by Debra Kayn
She ducked her chin, disagreeing with him. He had been a boy, barely a man. He fought with Rich because he cared and had no other way to show him how much he loved his friend.
"Wayne's supposed to call us later. The sheriff's office is going to send over a picture of the John Doe...what's recognizable. I'll know soon." He pushed to his feet and lifted her up. "Let's go inside."
She wrapped her arm around his back and walked with him. "Is there anything I can do?"
"You're doing it." He leaned over and kissed the top of her head. "You're here."
She swallowed hard. It hadn't been her who knew what was going on with him. Gracie was the one who had the knowledge and history of what Chuck was going through. She had also known what Chuck needed.
Chapter 24
Chuck walked into the bedroom naked. Erikka leaned against the headboard and pulled her knees up to her chest, flipping her wet hair off her shoulders. "Did I leave you enough hot water?"
"Yeah." He stopped at the bed and kissed her. "You taste like toothpaste.
"That's you who is all minty fresh." She ran her tongue over her teeth. "It's been a good twenty minutes since I brushed. You took a long shower."
"I needed to shave my head." He rubbed his hand over his scalp.
She planted her chin on her knee. Never before could she have imagined loving a shaved head on a man, but she couldn't imagine him any other way.
"Is your hair blond?" she asked, curious.
He frowned. "Do you want to see a picture of me with hair?"
She raised her head and nodded. He went over to the dresser, opened the bottom drawer, and returned to the bed. She reached out and took the picture. Her chest warmed, and she smiled, not believing her eyes but loving it.
"You've got curls." She tilted the picture to see it better. "And, dimples. How old were you here?"
"Sixteen." He took the picture from her and tossed it to the nightstand. "That's the last time I had hair. I've been shaving ever since."
"Why? You have beautiful hair."
"Don't want beautiful." He slapped his bare chest, making her laugh.
"Ah, you like to scare people, so you go for the tough guy look." She grabbed for him. "Come here, you-bad-biker-dude."
He plopped down on the bed, rolled, and put his head in her lap. She gripped behind his neck and dug her thumb in a tight circle. His muscles still tense from earlier after hearing the news about the John Doe.
"Fuck, love. That feels good." He bent his neck giving her more access.
She raised her hands. "Roll off and lay on your stomach. I'll give you a back rub."
He rolled and put his arms down by his sides and turned his head toward her. "Are you any good at this." His words came out muffled against the comforter.
"An expert. I've been trained in Swedish massage, German torture. Russian manipulation. Canadian pressure. Disneyland thrills..." She pulled her legs out from under the blanket and moved over, sitting on his bare ass. She squirmed against him, letting him feel her nakedness. "Close your eyes and enjoy the many hands of the world."
"You're so full of shit," he mumbled.
She smiled. "Just go with it..."
She warmed up his skin rubbing her hands in a circle, making sure she touched every inch of his broad back. Then, she used the heel of her palms and pushed harder up and down, spreading out over his ribs and up his sides.
Chuck groaned. She smiled because his muscles were slowly relaxing.
Slowing her movements, she changed to massaging deeper with the pads of her fingers. Squeezing the bulk of his body, she had his skin turning a nice flush. When her fingers grew tired, she softened her touch and skimmed her nails over his skin.
He exhaled in a rush. She leaned over his back and whispered in his ear, "Too much?"
"Fuck, no," he whispered.
Curling all her fingers, she scratched harder, leaving red lines on his back. His shoulder came off the bed, and she quickly rubbed the sting away with the flat of her hands, eliciting a moan from him.
Her nipples peaked. Chuck had a body that had her wanting to discover everything he liked. She never would've guessed that he was a man who'd enjoy a back rub or lay still long enough. He was always so dominating, outside the bedroom and in. She usually waited to see what he wanted to do because he always made it such a turn on for her when he took control.
But right now, he was putty in her hands. She trailed her finger down his spine, leaned back, and continued down to the crack of his butt. His hand flashed behind his back, and he caught her wrist. She laughed, falling forward until she lay on top of him. Not ready to stop, she reached under his arms and tickled his pits. He never moved a muscle. Determined to find another sensitive spot, she trailed her nails down his sides and almost gave up when he remained still, but as she hit the side of his hip, he bucked her off.
She landed on her side laughing. "Now that I found your ticklish spot, you'll be at my mercy."
He pinned her to the bed and crawled on top of her, straddling her hips. Intent on finding her spot, he began to touch her lightly.
She stretched her arms above her head. "Go ahead, do your damage."
He tickled her pits, her ribs, her stomach, under her breasts. She fake yawned. He was never going to find out where she hated being touched. Not when he was doing the touching, and she loved how it felt having him explore her skin. Reaching behind him, he ran his fingers lightly over her inner thighs. She accommodated him by spreading her legs apart.
Her body warmed. The only thing on her mind was where he would place his fingers next and where on a scale of wonderful to perfect would he land?
Chuck's lips parted. She squirmed under his heated gaze. She had no idea when he stopped trying to tickle her and started rubbing. Lowering her arms, she rested her hands on his thighs. Her lower stomach coiled in pleasure and she dug her nails into his legs. His eyelids lowered, and she gazed down between his legs. His hard cock pulsed for attention.
No matter how passionate she got with her nails, her teeth, her grip, he seemed to feed off her desire to let go and enjoy sex. There was no holding back. When she thought she'd gone too far, his reaction proved her wrong. He loved the scratches on his back she made with her nails as she orgasmed. Even the hickeys she'd placed on his neck.
An incessant beeping broke through her arousal. Chuck removed himself from her and sat on the edge of the bed. She looked around, unable to connect the noise with him leaving her when she heard him.
"Yeah?" he said into his phone.
His muscles tensed. She rolled to a sitting position and hugged his naked back. There was no getting through the barrier he'd erected to take the impact of the expected news that was being delivered, but she could hold him.
"You sure?" He held his breath.
The captive air rushed out of him. "Okay."
She pressed her cheek against his back. His heart raced, thundering in her ear.
"Do the others know?" asked Chuck. After a pause, he continued. "Okay."
His skin warmed. She pulled her head off him.
"Thanks, bro," he murmured, right before his chin hit his chest and his shoulders rounded.
She quietly moved from behind him and sat down on the edge of the mattress beside him, leaning her upper body against his arm. Afraid to ask, she simply waited.
A shudder rocked his body, and he sucked in air, drawing in a deep breath. "It wasn't Rich. The autopsy came back as a man who was five feet eight inches. Rich was six-three. Wayne validated it with viewing the picture. Th-the tat on Rich's leg would've been visible despite the burning, and it wasn't there. The odds are against him ever having it removed." Chuck tapped his upper chest. "The tattoo matched this one. We all have it. It was our first."
"Thank God," she whispered, rubbing her hand down his face. "Why don't I get you a coffee, and we can just chill and decompress after that news."
She moved to go ahead and get them both a coffee when he hooked her thigh, stoppi
ng her. "Do you need something else?"
He straightened and looked up at her from the bed. "I need you. Hard and fast to beat out the fucking head-trip I've been on today."
She stepped backward and nodded. When he continued sitting on the edge of the bed, she turned around and placed her hands high on the wall and slowly widened her stance. She trembled in anticipation.
Because he was barefooted, she couldn't hear his approach. Faced away from him, she couldn't see him walking toward her. It was his warm hand that slid tantalizing over the slope of her hip that let her know he'd followed her across the room.
He hooked his arm around her waist and pushed down on her upper back with his other hand. She bent over, balancing against the wall. The vulnerable position put her at a disadvantage.
"Stay that way." His hands left her.
She started to straighten and look over her shoulder, and he said, "Don't, love."
Her legs shook as every instinct to not listen to Chuck fled her body. She wanted to please him. Fast and hard was for him, and she would do whatever he requested.
The crinkle of a condom wrapper further tickled her senses. She closed her eyes. Her hand might as well be chained to the wall because she refused to move. She couldn't move. He'd need to make her move.
His hand landed on her lower back. She arched more and almost came up onto her toes at his touch.
"Are you wet?" His deep voice rolled over her.
She nodded, exhaling. "Yes."
"Ready?"
She inhaled deeply, not knowing when he was going to start. The anticipation aroused her. "Hard and fast," she said, agreeing to what she now recognized as something she needed, too.
"Hold on tight," he whispered.
A hint of pressure and he slammed his cock into her pussy, taking her to her toes. She sprawled her fingers on the wall at the same moment he withdrew. She caught herself as he thrust inside of her again. Three more plunges and his fingers wrapped around her hip bones, cushioning the hardness of impact. Though she felt his length clear up inside of her and the pressure...God, the pressure filled her.
Skin slapped skin. Moans answered grunts. The fast, sloppy, wet sounds of sex permeated the room.
Unable to keep her legs straight or hold her weight any longer, she gave herself up into his more than capable hands. Overheated, her palms slid along the sheetrock, and she curled her fingers, walking her upper body up the wall.
Chuck's heavy breathing fanned her upper back. Her aching nipples constricted painfully idyllic with each sway of her body as he rocked her core. She couldn't stop her body from responding. She couldn't last. She couldn't take more.
She gave.
She gave him everything.
Her orgasm depleted her and Chuck caught her around the waist and moved forward with her until she was pinned to the wall. Buried deep and still within her body, he came.
Together, they caught their breath, their bodies as close as could be. He sheltered her from the emotional storm involving her sister. She comforted him through his fear of losing a brother.
He rubbed his lips on her temple. "You good?"
"Wonderful." She blinked her eyes open. "Are you good?"
He kissed her. "Perfect."
Backing away from her, he slipped his cock out of her body, and held onto her hips, steadying her. She stumbled toward the bed and collapsed on the mattress. As soon as Rachel was found, she was going to sleep for a solid week.
Chapter 25
Chuck opened his eyes and stared into the dark. He strained to hear any odd noise that would've woke him. There was only silence. Too much silence.
He lowered his hand and felt for Erikka. The bed was empty. Rolling into a sitting position, he grabbed his jeans off the floor and shoved his feet in the legs. They'd only had a few hours' sleep. She should be in bed, getting her rest after the sex they'd had.
"Love?" He walked down the hallway to the bathroom. The door was open, and the room was dark.
Hurrying down the stairs, he gazed into the kitchen as his foot hit the bottom step. The light was off. "Erikka?"
No reply came.
He reached into his pocket. "Fuck," he muttered. He'd left his phone upstairs.
Checking the sliding glass door, he found it locked from the inside. His accelerated pulse brought him fully awake. He rushed out of the room, through the living room, and stopped at the front door. It was unlocked.
He stepped outside and found Erikka bundled in a blanket standing at the end of the porch. She turned and gave him a smile that never reached her eyes.
Slowing his panic, he walked over to her. "What are you doing?"
She exhaled loudly. "I thought maybe Stoddard or whoever took Rachel might drive by her house again, and if they did, they'd be going right past your house. I thought if I could see someone who looked suspicious, I could get their license plate number to give to Lieutenant Gomez."
His worry at finding her missing disappeared and he wrapped his arms around her from behind. "We've had proof that she flew to Cabo," he said, reminding her.
"I know, but we don't have proof that she could've flown back here." She laid her head back against his chest. "I just thought...I needed something to do. I'm living with you, happy with how we've grown close, and feeling like I'm failing Rachel. If it were me, I wouldn't want her starting a new relationship when she could be saving my life."
"You're being unfair to yourself." He stared over her head out into the street. Daylight was only beginning, and the street lights cast a depressing scene in front of him. "I speak from experience. You've done more than most people do when a loved one goes missing. Most people don't hire outside of letting the police know the details. Not because their desire to find someone is less, but because in their worry, they don't think about asking for extra help."
"One person left a message on our work phone after the police report came out in the newspaper," she said. "A psychic from Alabama or Arkansas wanted to help me find Rachel."
He scoffed. She turned in his arms. "I take it you're not a believer."
"No." He rubbed her blanket-covered arms. "Come in and warm up."
Her gaze dropped to his bare chest. "You didn't even get dressed."
"I expected you to be beside me and found you gone." He frowned. "Don't go outside again without telling me. I'll come out here anytime you want."
"You were sleeping hard and needed the rest." She raised up on her tiptoes and kissed him. "I didn't want to bother you, and with Mr. Markham in jail, I felt safe."
He grunted and guided her into the house. The world wasn't safe enough for Erikka. The thought of losing her to an accident or being at the wrong place at the wrong time had him wanting to lock her in the house.
Inside, he went to the kitchen and made coffee. Pushing the start button of the machine, he returned to the living room where Erikka had shed the blanket. She was fully dressed. Damn.
Normally, he would've woke up with any shift of the bed or footsteps across the room. She'd worn him out last night because he hadn't heard or felt a thing when she slipped out of bed.
"I put coffee on." He sat down on the couch and linked his hands behind his head and stretched out his legs.
"After you have a cup, can you walk me over to my house? I haven't picked up the mail for a week. I should get Rachel's, too. Her box is probably full." She stood by the window, and her shoulders rose and fell. "I used to always pick up her mail and take it to her house because she was always forgetting. I used to tease her that I should've been the older sister because I was more organized and had a schedule I liked to keep, while she was more laidback and carefree."
"Yeah, we can ride over and check each mailbox."
She made an airy sound that told him she was trying to pull herself out of the depression that hit her in the night. "Walking is good exercise."
"So is riding." He winked. "The Harley needs to be warmed up anyway."
"I'm going to run a comb through my h
air and brush my teeth. I'll be ready whenever you are." She picked the blanket off the chair and carried it with her upstairs.
He ran his hands over his head. Erikka could do with any kind of distraction to keep her occupied.
The coffee maker gurgled. He walked up the stairs, grabbed the rest of the clothes he'd need to finish dressing and his phone. In the kitchen, he drank his coffee while lacing up his boots. He'd finished the bottom of his cup when his phone rang.
Reading Galeeno's name on the screen, he connected the call. "Yeah?"
"She's not here, Chuck. We've turned over every rock, and the closest we got was one of the local men thinks he saw a pretty woman of Rachel's description."
"Damn. I was afraid of that." He lowered his voice. "I'll call you back after I talk to Erikka and see what she wants to do. Give me an hour."
He put the phone in his pocket and finished off his coffee, not tasting the richness. He'd worked with Galeeno many times over the years. The man was thorough and competent. If he said Rachel wasn't in Cabo, then she wasn't there.
Erikka walked into the room and wrinkled her nose. He moved to fill another mug, and she turned down the offer of coffee.
"You sure?" he asked.
She put her hand on her stomach. "I'll have a cup when we get back from picking up the mail. I don't think I'm ready for caffeine yet."
He'd need to make sure she ate some toast or something, too. Shrugging into his Notus vest, he strolled with her out to the driveway. At his motorcycle, he motioned for her to continue walking.
She matched him step for step, glancing at him. "I thought you wanted to ride."
"I need to talk with you." He hooked her neck, bringing her closer, and left his hand on her. "Galeeno called —"
"Did he find Rachel?"
The hope in her question made his gut ache. He leaned over and kissed her temple. "No, love. He's scoured the area, and there are no leads."
"Maybe he missed some places, a hotel, or a private home," she said.
He forced himself to slow down and let her have time to absorb the news. "It's your call on where you want to go from here. I can tell you from working with Galeeno in the past that he wouldn't make the declaration unless he's checked everywhere."
