“Hi.” I smiled so widely he could probably see my wisdom teeth.
“Hey.” He grinned back. “Nice outfit.”
Bikini. Not too big, but not too small, either. “Thanks.” I blushed. “You too.”
He was wearing jeans and another T-shirt. It was green today, like his eyes, with white letters. Remember my name, you’ll be screaming it later.
I wanted to ask him whether that was intended to be a threat or a promise, or just an attempt to blend in with the college crowds, but before I could, he’d told me, “Go throw some clothes on. We’re going to lunch.”
“We are?”
He nodded. “Detective Fuentes and Carmen are waiting.”
I definitely didn’t want to miss that.
I got up from the lounge chair and gathered my stuff while Ty watched. Hopefully that was appreciation on his face, and not impatience. I turned to him. “D’you want to come upstairs while I change?”
He shook his head. “Better not. We don’t wanna be late.”
No, we didn’t. And I guess it was sort of encouraging that he thought watching me change might make us late. Sounded like maybe the T-shirt had been trying to tell me something, after all.
I left him in the lobby while I headed upstairs in the elevator, to throw on a dress and a pair of sandals. I fluffed my hair, put on some lip-stuff and a pair of earrings, and went back down.
Fuentes and Carmen were waiting at I Dream of Wienie, a hot dog and Polish place in Old Town. Fuentes looked me up and down as I slid into the booth across from him. “Everything OK?”
“Fine.” Maybe I should have been a basket case after last night, but the fact that Stan was safely behind bars had gone a long way toward making me sleep. I hadn’t even had nightmares. “Nothing happened,” I added.
“Plenty happened. It’d be understandable if you were a little shaken up.”
“I’m fine. Really. Just glad nobody else has to deal with him. He won’t be going anywhere, right?”
Fuentes shook his head, biting into his dog. Ketchup and mustard decorated the corner of his mouth until he licked it away. “We’ve got enough evidence to put him away for a long time.”
“He talked most of the night,” Ty added, stirring a cup of coffee, his eyes on the spoon. I guess maybe he hadn’t been to bed yet. Or if he had, not for long. “Times, places, details. Names we didn’t have.”
The bite of Polish curdled in my stomach and I put it down. “There were more girls? More than the ones we knew about?”
They both nodded, but it was Carmen who answered. “Including me.”
I turned to her. “You didn’t know...?” Hard to imagine someone being raped and not realizing it.
She shook her head. “It was a couple years ago. I was a lot wilder back then.”
She slid a look at her brother, who nodded.
Carmen continued, “Spring break was a time for me to party, too. Free flow of alcohol, new out-of-town boy every night. Most of the time I didn’t know who they were, and I often woke up alone. When I couldn’t remember what happened, it was a lot like any other night.”
“But instead of having too much to drink and sleeping with some out-of-town college boy, Stan drugged and raped you.”
She nodded. “It’s a good thing I’ve stopped drinking, or that woulda been a real wakeup call.”
I could imagine. “I’m sorry.”
For a second, something moved in her eyes, something a lot like pain, but then she shrugged. “I’d rather know.”
“And it helps that he’s behind bars,” her brother added, with a strong snap of teeth.
Carmen nodded.
“So how many others did he name? How long has it been going on?” Longer than since last year, obviously, if Stan had raped Carmen a couple years ago.
“First time was four years ago,” Fuentes said. “No name, and no police report at the time. No way of tracking the girl down now.”
Gah.
“It was just the one girl that year, a crime of opportunity. No drugs involved, but he said the girl was drunk enough that he figured she’d have no idea who he was.”
Double gah.
“The next year, he had figured out the drugs. It was three girls that year, including Carmen, but he lucked out and nobody reported being raped. He was probably pretty liberal with the doses, as he figured out what worked.”
Ty grimaced, but didn’t comment.
“And then last year, there were four. But only two realized what had happened and reported it. He couldn’t use Rohypnol as much because of the dyes that had been added, so he moved to Ketamine.”
“Special K?” I ventured.
Both Ty and Fuentes nodded. “Ketamine’s what was in the water bottle last night,” Fuentes said. “Very fast acting, but doesn’t make you quite as unaware of what’s going on. You’re still mostly conscious, but you can’t move.”
“While roofies—Rohypnol, Roach—makes you forget everything,” Ty added.
I looked from one to the other of them. “So what did he plan to do with me after he raped me? Since I would know who he was and could identify him?”
They exchanged a look, and for a second or two it looked like neither one of them wanted to answer.
“He didn’t say,” Ty said eventually, “but we figure he’d have ended up killing you. Like you said, you’d be able to identify him. He would want to prevent that.”
“He planned to dump me on your doorstep, you know,” I said, focused on keeping my voice steady. Not just rape, but murder? Looked like I’d gotten away even luckier than I’d originally thought. “You really pissed him off, coming here. Especially when you stood up and told everyone he couldn’t get a date.”
“He couldn’t get a date,” Carmen said. “I grew up with him, and he never had a girlfriend. Not sure whether that’s because he was always a little odd, or whether he turned a little odd because he never could get a date.”
Could go either way, I guessed.
I’d never had a boyfriend. Did that mean I was in danger of turning odd?
I glanced at Ty. The corner of his mouth tilted up. “Ready to go?” he asked me.
I nodded. “If you are.”
“I’ll walk you back to the hotel.” He scooted out of the booth. I did the same. Ty and Detective Fuentes shook hands. Carmen gave me a hug and wished me well. I did the same for her. And then we walked out into the Key West sunshine.
“So you’re leaving tomorrow,” Ty said as we headed down the sidewalk hand in hand.
I nodded. “The flight’s at eleven. I guess I have to be at the airport by ten. I’m meeting the others in the lobby at nine.”
“Anything you wanted to do in Key West that you haven’t had a chance to do? Snorkeling? Scuba diving?”
“I was hoping to have sex,” I said.
He shot me a look. “You sure you still wanna do that? After last night?”
“I don’t want to have sex with Stan.” I want to have sex with you.
We walked in silence a few steps. His hand was warm and hard around mine.
“I think it would help,” I added. “Until now, my only experience with sex has been this creepy guy planning to rape me. And if I leave Key West like this, that’ll be what I’ll take home with me.”
He smiled crookedly. “So I’d be doing you a favor by taking you to bed? Improving your mental health?”
I flushed. “Something like that, I guess.”
We walked another few feet.
“It isn’t that I don’t want to,” Ty said.
“But?” There was definitely a ‘but’ at the end of that sentence, even if he hadn’t said it. And this time it wasn’t that he was working and I was part of his investigation.
“I wanna make sure it’s really what you want. That I’m not taking advantage of you.”
“You wouldn’t be taking advantage of me. It’s what I want.” After last night, especially. “I want my first time to be with someone I choose, not someo
ne who decides to rape me because he can.”
Another half block passed before he spoke again. “Are you sure? About me?”
Very.
But before I had the chance to say so, he’d added, “You only get one chance at this, you know. Are you sure you want your first time to be with me?”
I slanted him a look. “Are you telling me I shouldn’t?”
He smiled, but shook his head. “I don’t want you to regret it. Giving your virginity to some guy you met on vacation, that you may not ever see again...”
I didn’t want to think about that. “I’m sure,” I said. “I’d like it to be you. If you wouldn’t mind.”
“No,” Ty said, “I wouldn’t mind at all.”
We walked the rest of the way in silence, until we were outside the doors to the hotel. I hesitated, and so did he. I guess neither of us wanted to assume anything.
I glanced at him. “Um...”
“Yeah?”
“It’s OK if you’ve changed your mind.”
“Have you changed your mind?”
I shook my head.
“Me neither.”
“So you want to come upstairs?”
“If you want me to.”
“I want you to,” I said and pulled him through the doors.
Even so, it was a little awkward walking into the hotel room. The sun was pouring through the French doors to the little balcony, and the ocean stretched to infinity beyond. It was very private, we were up high, nobody could see in... but there was a lot of light. A whole lot of light.
When I’d envisioned this scene, it had always been dark. And I’d imagined a bit more... passion. Being swept off my feet. Having a lot less time to think.
“It’s OK,” Ty said. He put his hands on my shoulders and pulled me back against him. I could feel the warmth of his chest and stomach through his T-shirt and my dress.
He slipped his hands down my arms, leaving goosebumps, and then wrapped his arms around me. His voice was warm against my ear. “Just relax. And if you change your mind and want me to stop, just tell me.”
I nodded. And cleared my throat. “I like your T-shirt.”
He laughed. “I like your dress.”
It was a simple jersey tube with cap sleeves: basically an overly long T-shirt. It slipped over my head... and came off just as easily.
I still had my bikini on underneath—I hadn’t taken the time to change out of it in the hurry earlier, and besides, there hadn’t seemed to be much point when I didn’t know whether I’d be going back to the pool again later.
Now I could console myself with the fact that at least I wasn’t standing here in my underwear. I was wearing as much as I’d worn outside in public earlier.
“I like this, too,” Ty murmured and fingered the ruffles at my hips.
I swallowed. Hard. “Thank you.”
“Pink is definitely your color.” There was a smile in his voice, and I wasn’t sure whether he was talking about the bikini or the color in my cheeks. His hand skimming across my stomach was warm, the palm a little rough. I caught my breath fast when he flicked the ruffles on my bra with a fingertip, too.
“You still OK?” he whispered in my ear.
My voice hiccuped. “I think.”
“Let me know if you’re not. If you need me to slow down.” He brushed the hair away and kissed my shoulder. And then the side of my neck.
I turned in his arms, tilting my face up, and then he kissed my mouth. And just like last time, my stomach turned to liquid and so did my knees. I didn’t even notice that he walked us backward toward the bed. Not until the backs of my knees hit the mattress and I fell over, with him on top of me.
For a second, it was déjà vu all over again, and I froze. Until I heard his voice, warm in my ear. “It’s me, Cassie.”
I nodded. “Ty.” I was safe. I was in my own room, and it was Ty.
I wrapped my arms around his neck and then he was kissing me again.
Somewhere along the way, his shirt came off. I’m not sure whether he did it, or I did, but I felt soft, warm skin under my hands, and hard muscles flexing and sliding against me.
And somewhere along the way, my bikini top came off, as well. I’m pretty sure that was him, because I was too busy touching him to worry about it. His naked chest against my naked breasts—for the first time ever!—was shocking and thrilling at the same time.
“You’re beautiful, Cassie.” He kept talking to me, soft words in my ear, little sounds of encouragement and enjoyment when I touched him. Telling me, without telling me, that I was doing it right, and that he liked me, and liked being with me.
When he hooked his fingers in the ruffles of my bikini bottoms and tugged them down my legs, my heart began to thud against my ribs. This was it. I was losing my virginity.
Finally.
Except I didn’t. Not then. Instead he moved back up my body and kissed me some more, his hands exploring.
“Before, behind, between, above, below...” I murmured.
He lifted his head. “What?”
“It’s a poem by John Donne. License my roving hands and let them go. Before, behind, between, above, below.”
His lips curled. “My experience with poetry stops at, There once was a girl from Chicago...”
I laughed, and then thought that I hadn’t realized people laughed while they made love.
Probably being able to laugh while you were making love was a good thing.
And then he touched me a certain way, and the laughter turned to a moan. “Oh, God! Ty...”
“Shhh. Almost there.”
He left me to shuck out of jeans and—I assume—what he had on underneath. “Oops.” He dove back onto the floor and came up triumphant, clutching a small packet.
“Thank you,” I said, since I certainly hadn’t thought to make sure we had a condom.
He smiled. “I’m gonna take care of you, Cassie. Every way.”
His eyes were hot and liquid, like melted emeralds. I watched, curious and a little embarrassed, as he rolled the condom on. But he didn’t seem to mind me looking, just grinned at me. “Just so you know, I was voted best endowed in my high school class.”
“Really?” That was a category my graduating class hadn’t awarded.
He laughed. “No. Just average.”
“You look good to me,” I said, my cheeks hot.
He smiled. “Thanks. You look good to me, too.”
The way his eyes heated when he looked at me, I couldn’t doubt he meant it.
“C’mere.” I opened my arms, and he crawled in, his hand tracing patterns on my stomach, and then up to circle my breasts before trailing back down again. It was hard to keep focused on the conversation.
“You’re absolutely sure about this, right? Because we’re pretty much at the point of no return. If you’re gonna tell me no, now’s the time to do it.”
“I’m positive,” I said. “I want you. Now. Please.”
“Then you can have me. Now. Please.” He moved so he was on top of me, and then so he was on his knees between my legs. I watched, my breath hitching, as he leaned forward. The tip of the condom nudged between my legs. “Relax,” Ty murmured. “I don’t wanna hurt you any more than I have to.”
“It probably won’t hurt at all.” I had to take a couple of breaths while he pushed his way inside. “I’ve been... oh, God, Ty...”
“Sorry. Sorry...”
“No.” I shook my head on the pillow. “No, it doesn’t hurt. Really. It’s just tight. Really, really...”
“Tight. Yeah.” He had drops of sweat on his forehead.
I laughed weakly. “Thanks for doing this.”
“It’s a dirty job,” Ty managed, his face contorted with something halfway between laughter and pain, “but someone’s gotta do it.”
And then he was all the way in, and we both held our breath for a moment while we adjusted.
He hadn’t looked enormous earlier, but he felt enormous now. My insides bu
rned and stretched, and I had a hard time catching my breath. Meanwhile, he seemed to be having problems of his own. The muscles in his arms were standing out—nice muscles, nice arms—and he had his eyes squeezed shut. “God, Cassie.” His voice was strained. “I gotta move. If I don’t move...”
“Then move,” I said.
He moved. And my eyes rolled back in my head. “Oh, God...”
He moved again.
“Oh, God. Ty...”
He laughed breathlessly. “Good?”
“The best. Again. Please.”
He did it again. And again. And then he slipped a hand between us and touched me. I gasped, my body clenching around him, and heard him groan. “Cassie. Shit...”
“What?”
“Can’t wait.”
Then don’t.
I wanted to say it, but I couldn’t. Everything was coming together. The way he was moving, the way his fingers slipped and slid between us, the feel of his muscles bunching and releasing against me. My insides tightened, spiraled.
“Oh!” I opened my eyes wide. “Oh, Ty...!”
And then everything exploded, and I gasped and shuddered, and Ty muttered something, something I didn’t catch because I was too busy blinking up at the colored confetti raining down, and just a couple seconds later he stiffened too, his rhythmic movements becoming jagged and uneven, his breath catching in his throat.
He collapsed on top of me, his face buried in my neck and his breath hard against my skin, his own skin slick with sweat. I wrapped my arms around him and smiled.
HE WAS gone when I woke up the next morning. Part of me had expected it. I guess he hadn’t looked forward to saying goodbye any more than I had, and this way we didn’t have to.
I had hoped for a note, though. Thanks. Or maybe even, Here’s my number, if you ever find yourself in D.C.
But there was no note and no number. So maybe he’d wanted a clean break. He probably didn’t feel the same about me that I felt about him. He’d probably had lots of one-night stands. A guy didn’t get that good without considerable practice.
I got up and showered, a little unhappy about washing the scent of him off me. It was all I had left to remind me. But while me walking into the lobby smelling like sex might make Mackenzie happy—I’d gotten laid during spring break; whoop!—I figured no one else would probably appreciate it.
Before You Page 13
