“Hard times don’t discriminate and my beauty is the only thing I’ve got going for me right now. I’m married to an asshole and going through a divorce. The asshole isn’t supporting me. Girl’s gotta eat. So what’s it gonna be, big guy? Time’s money and right now I don’t have either.”
Being married and going through a divorce was just about the only reason he could think of for a gorgeous, classy woman like her to be out on the stroll. But he still felt a creeping sadness settle over him. “S-sure,” he stuttered again before swallowing hard and licking his lips with barely restrained hunger. She was classy, which made her seem impervious to the commonality of those other whores working the streets for drugs and money.
He wanted to experience her body under his before she became like all the others from years of selling themselves for money and drugs. Their blank stares, pasty skin, and rotted teeth sickened him. She, on the other hand, intrigued him with her beauty and story of life’s hard knocks. She deserved better.
Maybe he could save her. Maybe he could claim her body inside and out, then when he was done with her he’d take the breath from her body while she was in her prime, before she became like all the others. He was well aware he had the power to do so. And, boy, what a feeding frenzy the media would have with a story like this.
“Cat got your tongue, baby? Do I make you nervous or something?” she asked as she got into the car. As she settled into the seat, her skirt slid up her creamy thighs, almost revealing all her feminine mysteries.
“To be honest with you, ma’am, I think you do. What’s your name?”
“You can call me Rene.”
~~~
Turner listened as his partner and lover, FBI Agent Rene Murphy, talked her way into the john’s car. Turner and Rene were working a serial killer case and had resorted to hitting the streets undercover in an attempt to find the infamous killer known as ‘Mummy Man’. He rolled his eyes at the name the press had bestowed on this one. The press never failed to name serial killers, which only fed into their egos when they already thought they were too smart to get caught.
He followed the john’s car at a judicious distance. Turner’s car was set up more like a mobile office and the computer he’d installed ensured he was able to listen in as well as track his most prized possession: Rene. Every time this fucker told her how beautiful she was, his possessive instincts roared to life.
She was a beauty. When she’d dressed to go onto the stroll, Turner had wondered where the hell she was going to put her gun. In true Rene fashion, she’d slipped that bad boy into a holster on her upper thigh. Sexy as hell. It had been all he could do not to strip her down to nothing but her firearm and mark her in the most primitive, caveman way possible before they headed out. But there hadn’t been time. He’d be sure to make up for it later that night. His cock was completely on board with his plans.
Rene’s voice cut through his fantasies about what he was going to do to her when they got off work tonight. “Hey, stop up here at this gas station so I can get a pack of smokes.”
“You don’t smoke, Rene,” Turner chuckled under his breath. “What are you up to now?”
“Oh. Okay,” the john agreed, sounding a little flustered. “Sure, but I’ll have to help you get out. Um, that door handle doesn’t work.”
Okay, that sent up a red flag. Turner pulled up next to the other car as soon as they pulled into the convenience store parking lot. A passenger not being able to get out of a car just upped the ante. He wasn’t a gambling man, especially when it came to his woman.
Turner jumped out of his SUV, opening the passenger side door of the john’s car before the car had even come to a complete stop. Maybe he was overreacting but to hell with it.
“Hey, what’s going on?”
“You tell me,” Agent Turner said as he flipped his FBI credentials out so the man could see them. Rene joined her partner where he was now standing by the driver’s window. “Any reason why you’re picking up prostitutes in a car that doesn’t have a functional passenger door handle? Looks to me like maybe you’re planning on passengers staying awhile, whether they want to or not.”
“Yeah, I’m definitely curious about that one, too, being that there’s a serial killer on the loose,” Rene side-eyed her partner sarcastically.
“It’s a good thing you told my partner about that door. She’s unstable, man. If she’d tried to get out and that door didn’t open, she’d have shot your ass, no questions asked.”
“Listen, I’m harmless. I’m just looking for some action.”
“Do you think he’s harmless, Rene?”
“Nah. Do you?”
“Nope. Anybody who tries to trap women in their car is anything but harmless. If he was harmless, he’d have told you that door was broken before you even got in.”
“But I did tell her,” the man whined. Of course he was lying but going to jail hadn’t been part of his plan when he picked up the beautiful redhead.
Agent Turner walked to the back of the car, pulled a small notebook from his pocket, and wrote down the man’s license plate details. He walked back to the front of the car. “License and registration,” he said curtly. He held his hand out, taking the items after the man nervously handed them over. “You’re acting awful nervous, Mr. Reed. Brian Reed,” he said as he wrote the name down in his notebook.
“You guys are FBI. It isn’t like being pulled over by the cops.”
“You mind if I take a look in your trunk?”
The man’s attitude immediately changed. “Yes, I do mind,” he said defensively. “I keep my roadside emergency kit perfectly organized and I won’t have you messing it up.”
“So your trunk is perfectly organized but your door won’t open from the inside. Interesting.”
“That’s a matter of money. I can’t afford the repair at the moment. Now if that’s all, I’d like to go home now. So unless you have some reason to hold me, I’ll be on my way. I’m not in the mood for a date anymore.”
“You do that, Mr. Reed, and get that door fixed,” Turner said as he returned the man’s license and registration.
The agents watched as the car backed out of the parking space and pulled out into traffic. They’d be keeping a close eye on Mr. Brian Reed.
~~~
Brian’s heart was thundering against his ribs and thudding in his eardrums. He felt lightheaded as he white-knuckled the steering wheel. That had been a close call. Had they looked into his trunk they would have found a supply of plastic wrap and a supply of gauze along with a black suitcase known as a killing kit.
After a brush with law enforcement, and with the redhead out of the equation, playtime was over. It was time to make his move on Teegan. He just needed to pick a time when she wasn’t at her new boyfriend’s house.
He pulled into her neighborhood after ensuring he hadn’t been followed. It was a perfect night with a crescent moon so darkness was assured as the crickets sang in the background. Neighbors were busy with their nighttime rituals of watching their favorite sitcoms or bathing their kids after dinner.
He pulled around to the back of the house. With no security system it would be easy to break one of the small panes of glass. He reached under his seat for a hand towel, wrapping it around his fist as he walked to the mudroom door. One punch through the glass and he was reaching in turning the deadbolt.
It always amazed him how people could live blissfully behind their false facades of security with nothing but a pane of glass separating them from the evils that lurked in the shadows of the night.
His steps were slow as he walked into the living room. Everything was so perfect, so clean. It infuriated him. He grabbed a picture off the wall, breaking it over his knee. It was easy after that to destroy her possessions. Room by room, he broke anything he could get his hands on. He reached in his jacket pocket for the can of spray paint he’d brought with him.
Despite his frustration with her prolonged stay in the gated community, he’d still convin
ced himself that she’d be home by now. But, no, she wasn’t here like he’d thought she would be. Might as well wreck her world the way she was wrecking his with her slutty behavior. Even better, he needed a trophy; a memento he could take with him.
He jogged up the steps to her master bedroom. He stepped toward the chest of drawers but then thought better of it and changed course. The laundry hamper in the corner of the room called out to him, promising clothing that had touched her most intimate parts. As he opened the top of the hamper, he inhaled harshly when he saw the lacey intimates scattered within. He pressed a pair of pink panties to his nose and inhaled. He hardened as her delicious, musky scent filled his nostrils. He began to stuff them in his pocket, then changed his mind and slid them down the front of his pants, beneath his underwear so they were in direct contact with his dick. He smiled as he imagined driving home with her pussy juice clinging to his dick.
He went over to the bed and lifted the pillow, knowing that women often kept nightgowns there. Sure enough, she had tucked a nightie beneath her pillow, so he took it. It was her favorite, too; the one thing she would surely notice if it were missing. It was the first step in his plan to intrude on her life, her stability, and her sense of security. He decided that old saying was true: you really do only get one chance to make a first impression.
Chapter Seventeen
“You’re staring.”
“Are you complaining?” Rene asked.
“No. I’m definitely not complaining.”
“Good. Because I like looking at you.”
“You do, do you?”
“Mm-hmm.” Rene turned her head and looked out the car window, her eyes narrowing as she watched Brian Reed drive away. “Do you think he’s the Mummy Man?” She said the words in a ghostly voice in an attempt to make him smile.
Turner still looked troubled, though, as if he carried the weight of the whole city on his shoulders, and perhaps he did. “What was your take on this guy, Rene?” He turned troubled eyes her way, hoping like hell she could give him some answers. More than once she’d given him reason to be optimistic when a case seemed impossible. They worked well together.
“Anytime somebody doesn’t want us looking in their trunk it raises red flags, but we need to not make assumptions. It could be that he just doesn’t want his privacy intruded upon. You know how quick people are to start shouting about their Constitutional rights when law enforcement gets involved. Personally, I just don’t see him as smart enough to pull off something like this. He struck me as an overly emotional, spoiled brat.”
“It would be one hell of a lucky break if we were just face to face with the man responsible for killing these women. Damn! Talk about fate working in our favor.” Usually they had to scratch and claw for every new lead they got in a case.
“Right now we can’t be picky. We’ve got to follow whatever leads we get. If he’s the killer, then I can promise you Black Rose will be following him too. We’ll do surveillance on both and if he’s our man we’ll find out. Speaking of Black Rose, how do you plan on handling him?”
Turner snorted as he tapped impatient fingers on the steering wheel, then abruptly put the car in gear and pulled out of the parking lot. “That’s a good question. I’ve spent years doing the right thing and where has it gotten me? There’s no loyalty in the Bureau anymore. It’s a sad state of affairs that in the course of my law enforcement career, I’ve bonded with a serial killer more than the people in my own department. So I don’t know how to answer that question, Rene.”
“Well, as they say, we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. Sometimes the most unlikely people work their way into our lives and before we know it they become an unintended but important part of the work we do. Strange.”
“I don’t understand it either,” Turner muttered. “All I know is that Black Rose is good at taking out the trash and shares my disdain for rehabilitation. You can’t rehabilitate evil—you can, however, kill it. I don’t want this guy loose on the streets. If we kill him, then we’re on Internal Affairs’ radar. If Black Rose kills him, then it’s just one less serial killer we have to worry about. I have no problem with that. You know the statistics. Serial killers don’t stop killing. They can’t. You know what? I hope Black Rose does get his hands on him, because if he does I’ll carry the secret to my grave. We both know guilt’s overrated.”
“Then I guess you have your answer. If Black Rose eliminates Mummy Man, we’ll both take it to our grave.”
Turner nodded but was quiet as he drove with a faraway, almost wistful, look in his eyes. “There’s something we’re missing. It’s like it’s right there in front of me but I can’t quite grasp it.”
“It’ll come to you. It always does.”
“You still believe in me.”
“I’m just stating what God loves.”
Turner turned weary eyes to his partner, giving her a small smile as they said it in unison: “The truth.”
They rode along in silence until Rene asked quietly, “Where are we headed? I thought we’d be heading back to the office.”
“Back to our place.”
“Oh. Do you need to get something?”
“Yep.”
Rene frowned and tried to think of anything he might need and couldn’t come up with anything. “But why”—
“We’re going home, Rene. And when we get there, I’m going to fuck you. I told you I didn’t like you putting yourself at risk this way, but you insisted on trying to connect with Louisville’s criminal element directly. I don’t like it. I have no doubt about your ability to defend yourself, but that was too close for comfort.” He snorted quietly. “Fucking door wouldn’t open from the inside. Shit. So when we walk in the door, you are going to strip out of your clothes and go to our bedroom and wait for me. Then you’re going to show me what’s mine. You’re going to suck me off and swallow me down so I’ll go to sleep tonight knowing that you’re lying next to me with my cum still in your belly. But before we go to sleep, I’m going to eat your pussy until you scream like a banshee. Then I’m going to pound you into the next room.”
“Oh.” Rene’s voice was subdued but her eyes twinkled. As she watched Louisville pass by outside her car window, she silently mouthed, “Oh, goody.”
~~~
When the relationship had started between Turner and Rene she had been his Mistress…his Domme. Somehow the pain she inflicted had been what he’d needed. She had made him feel again. After years of wallowing in the death and decay of the criminal underworld, he’d been so consumed by his job that he had felt dead inside. Rene had helped him heal. He was a better detective and a better man because of her.
Over the years, the sexual aspect of their relationship and become more fluid, with them falling naturally into whatever balance of power would serve a particular need or just scratch an itch. Lately Turner had taken the lead, exerting his dominance effortlessly, much to Rene’s delight.
Tonight Turner was bristling with tightly leashed sexual energy and Rene could hardly wait. They slipped into their D/s dynamic the minute they entered the small, nondescript rental house that served as their home base when they were in Louisville.
He tossed his keys onto the console table by the door, then tilted his chin toward the stairs. “Strip. Leave everything at the bottom of the stairs. Lie across the bed. On your back, with your head toward the door. Pull your knees apart.”
Rene felt each stern command practically ripple across her skin. She made a meal of the act of undressing for her lover, taking every opportunity to sinuously arch and stretch to show off her curves to their best advantage. Nude, she reached up and gathered her auburn tresses over her left shoulder. She ascended the stairs slowly and cast a heated look over her right shoulder as she stepped across the landing and into the bedroom.
When Turner entered the room, he saw his lover laid out perfectly before him. Rene was on her back, her legs bent to her sides as she held her knees wide apart. Her shoulders rested on t
he edge of the mattress, her head leaning back as her glossy hair tumbled to the floor. Nostrils flaring, he unzipped his pants and approached the bed.
She couldn’t see the handcuffs he’d tucked into the back of his pants, but her nipples pebbled as she recognized the unmistakable metallic clink that accompanied every slow step he took. She barely suppressed a smile at the telltale sounds that brought a flush of heat to her core and thoughts of the wild West to her mind. Well, howdy, Sheriff…
He stood with his feet apart, close to the edge of the mattress and Rene’s waiting lips. He palmed his cock, breathed in deep, and waited.
Rene’s tongue was warm at the base of his shaft before she dipped lower to suck each ball into her mouth. When he pressed the head of his cock against her lips, she was ready for him. With her neck arched over the edge of the mattress, she could take him deep. As she worked him over, his hands roamed over her torso, leaving trails of fire along her silky skin. He worshipped her breasts, knowing exactly how to touch and knead her firm flesh. As her arousal grew, her efforts to milk his cock went into overdrive and she reached back with one hand to grip his thigh to pull him closer.
His hips didn’t break their steady rhythm as he tugged her hand off him and efficiently cuffed her wrist to her ankle. He followed suit with the other wrist and ankle. With her fully restrained, he picked up speed, pumping his cock into her eager mouth. When the orgasm took hold, he thrust forward and pressed hard against her mouth, his muscles clenching as he sent a load of cum straight down her throat.
He pulled out to let her catch her breath while he undressed. He wasn’t much of a talker during sex, preferring to let his actions speak for him. His hands slid over her skin, caressing her as her breathing calmed. He stroked her bare pussy, lazily sliding the length of his finger up and down over her clit as she bucked and writhed beneath his hand. He tugged her smooth pussy lips apart and sucked her clit into his mouth. Her back arched off the bed as she groaned.
Mommy's Dearest (Black Rose Book 3) Page 6
