He took a breath to collect his patience. Or maybe it was his sanity. “I can’t prove that it’s not.” He’d tried—all freaking day in fact—to find just one scrap of truth that would get him somewhere on this case.
“Proof.” She made a noise that sounded suspiciously close to a snort. “Come on. Can’t you go with your gut, just this once?”
“That’s not how figuring out a case works.” Pulse tapping faster, Capelli pushed up from the couch, walking to the open space of his kitchen in order to give his frustration a logical outlet.
Shae followed him the handful of steps, her chin hiked in a way that meant nothing good was in his immediate future. “That’s exactly the problem, though. None of this works.”
“We can’t just chuck the rules, Shae.” Was she nuts?
“I’m not suggesting we start making shit up to suit our purposes here,” she said, nodding in a wordless please and thank you at the bottle of water he just as wordlessly offered her from the fridge. “But you said it yourself. It’s what we don’t know that’s dead-ending us. So what can it hurt to take a flyer and go with your gut here?”
“My gut won’t get us anywhere,” Capelli insisted, frustration swirling hotter in his chest. “You’re suggesting we try to tie an active murder investigation to a man who’s been dead for months.”
“Do you have any better ideas?” Shae said, and sweet baby Jesus, she was nuts.
“Intelligence did an extensive investigation on DuPree. He never did business on the pier, and there’s no connection between him and the Scarlett Reapers. All of his clients were high end.” Other than the sufentanil, there wasn’t even a hint of a suggestion that the cases could be related. “Yes, it’s a bit of an odd coincidence that Kellan was drugged with the same narcotic as Denton and the L-Man, but there’s no point pursuing it—DuPree is dead, and his entire operation went down with him. Right now we have a killer on the loose. We don’t have any time to chase highly unlikely what-ifs. We need to focus on the facts.”
Not that a tiny little thing like logic was going to stand in Shae’s path. “When I came to you with these arsons, they were both what-ifs too. I was going purely on my gut,” she said, her eyes glinting greenish-gold, and the sudden pop of adrenaline in Capelli’s veins warred with his diehard need for caution and order.
“You acted on your gut when you went back into that house after Slater, too, and look where that got you.”
The words tightened the tension in the air, but Shae met it head-on. “Why are you so afraid to just act on something you can’t measure?”
Something dark and dangerous swelled in his chest. He stepped toward her, reducing the space between them to mere inches, and there went more of his control. “I’m not afraid.”
And yet, his heart pounded hard enough to negate the claim. Her stare flashed with intensity, raw and hot and so fucking beautiful that it destroyed his ability to think.
“Yes, you are,” came Shae’s fierce reply. “God, Capelli, why can’t you just trust what you feel instead of what you can prove?”
“Because,” he growled.
And then he grabbed her by the shoulders and slammed his mouth over hers.
A thousand thoughts and feelings crashed into Shae from all directions. She wanted to yell at Capelli, to shake him and call out his completely rigid ways and scatter his tightly wound composure all over the floor like marbles. But one feeling surged ahead of all the others, and it was the only one she could focus on with any sort of clarity.
More.
Her lips parted in an effort to convey the message without resorting to messy extras like words. Capelli caught on quickly, answering the movement of her mouth with a hard, deep press of his own. He was so shockingly brash, the steadfast control that normally ruled everything about him nowhere in sight, that all Shae wanted was to keep unravelling him until they were naked and sweaty and screaming, right here in his kitchen.
Her sex clenched, a heady sigh climbing the back of her throat at the thought. The sound—or maybe it was the feel of it vibrating between them—made him even bolder, and he tightened his hands on her shoulders, claiming her mouth with his tongue.
Yes, yes, fucking yes. Shae was dimly aware of the clatter of the plastic water bottle in her hand tumbling to the floor as she dropped it to knot her arms around his shoulders. Capelli’s muscles flexed beneath her touch, the friction of cotton over the hard angles where his neck met his back making her nipples harden against the thin lace of her bra. Sliding her tongue out to meet his, she opened to his kiss even more, offering up the control he seemed to so desperately need.
And oh, he took it. Gripping her shoulders, Capelli swung her around, walking her back just a few swift steps until her body met the flat surface of the refrigerator behind her with a firm thump.
“Ah.” She moaned into his mouth. His lips twisted into a wicked smile that she felt rather than saw, and the gesture grew even darker when she arched up to fit her frame against his from chest to hips. Heat speared between her legs at the contact, the unmistakable press of his cock at the seam of her body making her clit throb in a demand for more.
“You drive me crazy, you know that?” He broke from her lips to trail a line of rough kisses over her jaw that were no less intense than the way he’d taken command of her mouth. “You make me want to lose my fucking mind.”
“Mutual,” Shae said, forcing the word past the greedy need building low in her hips. She turned her head to one side against the cool, stainless steel surface of the refrigerator to give him better access to her neck, and he took it with a low curse. Flattening one palm over her shoulder and lowering the other to her hip, Capelli held her close, working the sensitive skin of her earlobe with his lips and tongue. He explored without pause, tasting every inch of her jaw and neck as if he was memorizing her with his mouth, and her breath squeezed in her lungs as her sex went slick with want.
Want that became entirely more primal when he closed his teeth over the spot where her neck joined her shoulder and applied just enough pressure to make her cry out in pleasure.
“Ah. There it is,” he murmured in satisfaction, and God, the gravelly, need-soaked sound of his voice alone was enough to make her want to fly apart. “Christ, you are so hot right now. I can’t wait to find every single place that makes you scream.”
Shae’s heart thundered even as her frustration welled. As sexy as it was to think of Capelli taking the scenic route over her erogenous zones, the need in her belly had pushed far past an insistent demand. They could take their time on round two, or maybe three.
But right now, she wanted him.
Hard. Fast. And buried between her legs.
Reaching down, she freed the button on her jeans, her zipper releasing a soft hiss as it followed suit. “I can show you a good place to start.”
Capelli’s body went bowstring tight against hers, but thankfully, he didn’t argue. Shae slid her jeans lower over her hips, exposing her teal satin panties, and his stare grew nearly black in the diffused light filtering in from the adjacent living room. Not waiting for her to get her jeans past mid-thigh, he anchored one hand at her waist, cupping the other against her pussy in a hard press that left no guesswork to his intentions.
“Christ, Shae.” He grated the words at her ear. “You’re so wet.”
The easy slide of his fingers over the fabric between her legs was proof, the movement making her clit pulse with hot, provocative want.
“Capelli.” His name collapsed past her lips, part moan and part whisper. Shae tilted her hips to maximize the contact, and ah, he didn’t waste any time following her lead. Shifting slightly to one side, Capelli angled his stare downward, his eyes locked on his fingers as he tugged her panties aside to reveal her bare, need-slicked sex. A sound rumbled from his throat, both dirty and reverent, and she pushed forward to meet his fingers at the same time he pressed inside her.
“Oh God.” For a second, she couldn’t do anything, couldn’t think
or speak or breathe. Then he started to move, and forget not being able to do anything.
Shae wanted everything.
Capelli filled her in slow, firm strokes, one finger thrusting deep while his thumb slid up to find her clit. There was nothing sweet or tender about the way he touched her, but that just made her want him all the more. Shae chased each forward movement with her hips, daring him faster and deeper until she was certain the desire pulsing through her blood would either break her in half or swallow her whole.
“I can feel how close you are,” he said, a second finger joining the first. “How bad you want it.”
The added pressure stretched her, daring her closer. “Please,” she moaned. “Please make me come.”
Something dark and wholly forbidden hardened his face, his stare glittering in the shadows. Hooking one finger around the other, Capelli pressed both into her pussy, finding some spot deep inside of her that sent sparks through her vision. Shae reached forward blindly, the blunt edges of her fingernails digging into his forearm and holding him close as he fucked her with his fingers.
She couldn’t think of a word to call out that would do this any sort of justice. She’d never felt so turned on, so desperate for release, and sensation built between her legs, both pure and primal. Capelli’s breath sawed out in quick, hot bursts against her neck, his hand pumping harder and harder, and with one last thrust, she shattered with a keening cry.
The climax gripped Shae in waves that stunned her with their intensity. He worked her through each shudder, pulling back only after her body had gone lax against his.
But oh, how she’d only just gotten started with him.
A sassy smile tugged at the corners of her mouth, and she reached out for the hem of his Henley. “I’m game to stay in the kitchen if that’s your kink, but you’re going to have to lose some of these clothes if you want to catch up.”
But an unreadable expression had replaced the urgent passion that had been on his face only seconds before.
“Shae.”
Capelli caught her hand to stay her movement. His tone slid past the lusty haze in her mind, making her heart squeeze with something other than arousal, and wait… “What’s the matter?”
The slow, deep breath that lifted the front of his shirt served as an all-too stark reminder that he was fully dressed and fully in control. “This…I was…I mean, you’re…”
Too impulsive.
“Don’t say it,” she managed, although the look in his chocolate-colored eyes told her that her brain had filled in the blank with gut-punching accuracy. Cheeks burning, Shae quickly righted her clothes, then locked her shoulders around her spine. “I’m going to take a wild guess and assume you’d rather work on this case alone for the rest of the night, too.”
After a few seconds that lasted an eternity, Capelli said, “I think that would be the smartest plan,” and God, could she be any more thoroughly dismissed?
“Right. I’ll be on my way, then.”
“Wait.”
Her stupid, treasonous pulse tripped as he took a step toward her. Then he paused as if he’d thought far better of the proximity, his chin lifting as he fixed her with a serious, all-business stare. “The note. I need to walk you to your car.”
Shae’s protest burned brightly in her mouth. But she’d agreed to let him walk her safely out, and of course he’d get all uptight and argue if she pushed.
The fastest way out of here was to let him have his way, despite the fact that the chance for danger was frigging nil, so she did what any smart girl with shredded pride would do.
She took it.
“Fine. I’m ready if you are,” she said, and then she walked toward the door without looking back.
Chapter 11
Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me.
It was—despite his very best efforts to the contrary—the only thought Capelli had been able to squeeze from his clearly addled brain for almost an hour. One bold challenge, one flash of Shae’s wild green eyes, and his control had been destroyed. Every calm, rational thought he’d ever considered having had not only pulled a disappearing act, but had left him so completely, it was as if he’d never known composure in the first place.
And he’d loved every dark, reckless second of it.
“Stop.” Although Capelli hadn’t spoken loudly or with force, the word still echoed through his apartment. Yes, he’d been reckless, dangerously so, but he had to move past his momentary lapse of judgment. He needed his brainpower for other, safer things, and Shae was far from safe. She was impulsive, unpredictable. Hell, if anyone told her not to do something, she’d not only do it twice, but she’d probably take pictures on top of it all. He couldn’t—could not—dwell on the way Shae had felt under his hands and mouth. How she’d managed to sound both provocative and just the slightest bit sweet when he’d relentlessly made her come.
How much she’d made him want.
Inhaling deeply, he packed away his thoughts of her, once and for all. He’d walked Shae downstairs, triple-checking their surroundings and her Jeep from front to back before watching her get in and drive off without incident. She was safe. He was sane again. What he needed—now more than ever—was to keep his mind busy on this case.
Capelli fired up his laptop, placing the thing carefully over his kitchen table as he pulled up a chair. But before he could get comfortable, let alone wrap his brain back around the facts in front of him, his cell phone buzzed softly with an incoming call.
Huh. His brows lifted in surprise at the sight of the name and number on the caller ID, but the sentiment only lasted for a heartbeat. Isabella might have mellowed out some since she and Kellan had gotten serious, but she was still a detective in the most elite unit in the freaking city. Capelli should’ve known she wouldn’t be able to fully practice what she’d preached in the Don’t Forget to Breathe department.
“Hey, Moreno.” He considered making some wry comment about her work ethic being the size of a small nation, but the spring-loaded pause on the other end of the line put a swift end to any niceties. “What? What’s going on?”
“It’s Shae,” Moreno said, Capelli’s heart ricocheting in his chest when she added, “how quickly can you get to her apartment on Hanover?”
Somewhere in the dim back hallways of his mind, Capelli knew he should be methodically taking notice of the things around him. If there were video cameras in the parking area beside the neatly bricked five-story building. Potential security weaknesses at the front and side doors. Whether or not the management company had installed a key card entry system that could be tracked down to when every last resident had gone to walk her Pomeranian or grab the mail. But none of that was front and center in Capelli’s brain as he barged past the glass and steel doors of Shae’s apartment building with his heart wedged in his windpipe.
He knew the rules. For fuck’s sake, he swore by them. How could he have been so careless?
He didn’t even consider bothering with the bullshit of the elevator. Taking the stairs two at a time, Capelli cut a fast path up to the third floor, flashing his RPD ID badge at the uniformed officer standing just outside the wide-open door of an apartment halfway down the hall that had to be Shae’s.
She sat on a couch in the main living space with Hale on one side and Isabella on the other, a blanket over her shoulders and a serious frown on her face, and all the breath punched from his lungs in relief.
“What the hell happened?”
“I’m fine.”
Their words crashed together, both of them having spoken at once. Taking a deep inhale, Capelli dug for his composure, biting back the string of questions exploding through his mind so Shae could continue.
“I told Isabella she didn’t need to call you. Everything is totally fine.”
“If that were true, she wouldn’t be here, and neither would Hale or the officer at the door,” he pointed out. “So do you want to tell me what’s going on?”
Shae’s shoulders didn’t budge beneath
the red fleece of the blanket around them, but she let go of a soft sigh and conceded. “I got home a little while ago and decided to take a shower.”
Belatedly, Capelli noticed the way her damp hair was pinned to the crown of her head in a loose knot and the thick, bright pink socks peeking out from beneath the edges of the blanket. A stab of guilt spread out in his chest at the reason she’d likely felt compelled to shower, but he’d have to work through that later.
“Okay,” he said, and Shae continued.
“Nothing looked out of sorts. The door was locked just like always when I came in, and I turned the deadbolt again before I went into the bathroom. But then when I got out of the shower and came back out here to grab something to eat…” She paused, her face turning a shade paler as she flicked a glance at the nearby coffee table. “That was sitting there.”
Capelli took a step toward the table, his blood turning to ice in his veins at the same moment his adrenaline dumped his heart into his gut.
The single piece of paper read: I SEE YOU HERE TOO
“Oh hell,” he said, winging his gaze around her casually cluttered but seemingly otherwise undisturbed living room. “And you’re sure it wasn’t here when you walked in the door?” God, the thought of some miscreant near her, in her apartment while she showered, for fuck’s sake, turned his hands into fists at his sides.
“Pretty sure. I mean, not a hundred percent, but…”
Shae broke off, her mouth pressing into a thin, white line, but Isabella shook her head. “It’s okay. The fact that you don’t remember it being here at first is still helpful, and this is obviously a serious issue regardless. You were right to call me.”
“We should have called after we found the first note on your car,” Capelli said, looking at Shae. But before she could get the protest flashing in her eyes to her mouth for a reply, Isabella held up one hand.
“Why don’t you come talk to me about that over here while Hale finishes talking to Shae?” she asked. Capelli’s brain recognized the standard operating procedure. He knew it was important—hell, logic reminded him that the divide and conquer protocol was sometimes the most crucial part in catching the tiny details that could break a case wide open.
Deep Burn (Station Seventeen Book 2) Page 13
