He got caught up in the vast amount of work that he’d been putting off for too long, and before he knew it, the day was drawing to a close. He heard Abi leave, although she didn’t come to say goodbye, probably because she sensed his mood. He’d make sure to apologise the next time he saw her.
Five minutes later, a loud knock at the door had his heart thumping. Maybe Jayne had decided to call by. He swung open the heavy door. Outside, two suits held police identity cards in his face. Not again.
“Mr Fox-Whittingham. I’m Detective Chief Inspector Bailey. This is Detective Inspector Andrews. May we come in, please?”
“Come to charge me with another murder?” Rupe stood back to let the officers inside. “This one must be serious if I get the big brass. What happened to the delightful Detective Fisher?”
Both detectives ignored him, although the younger one, Andrews, smirked, and then straightened his face when Bailey glared at him. Rupe invited them to sit in the living room.
“So, gents, to what do I owe the pleasure?”
DCI Bailey cleared his throat. “Mr Fox-Whittingham, I’m here to let you know that all charges against you in relation to the death of Mrs Vanessa Reynolds have been dropped, although I would like to point out that this does not mean that you couldn’t be charged again in the future.”
Rupe’s mouth fell open. Jayne’s friend must have come through. If that was true, where the hell was Jayne? He’d have thought she’d have come to see him the minute she heard. It seemed he wasn’t as important to her as he’d hoped. Somehow, that thought took the edge off his delight at the news.
“Why?” Rupe said.
Bailey recoiled in surprise. “Why?”
“Yeah. You guys were so sure I did it. What’s changed?” he said, deciding that as these fuckers had wasted his time and given him several sleepless nights, he was going to make them feel a little uncomfortable.
A flush crept across Andrews’s cheeks, and he swallowed hard as he fidgeted in his seat. Bailey was more successful at hiding his discomfort, although he did clear his throat once more, a sure sign that both he and Andrews had drawn the short straw in coming to give Rupe the news.
“We discovered that the eye witness wasn’t reliable,” Bailey said.
Rupe frowned. “What do you mean?” he said, stretching out their discomfort.
“Erm, well it seems that, erm, he’d been coerced into giving a false statement.”
Rupe leaned forward in his chair, his forearms resting on his knees. “Is that so? This doesn’t have anything to do with Detective Fisher, by any chance?”
Bailey paled. “I’m afraid we can’t discuss internal police business, Mr Fox-Whittingham.”
Rupe gave a sharp laugh. “Sure you can’t. But you can charge an innocent man with murder. Throw him in the police cells for a night, drag him into court. In fact, if it hadn’t have been for my brilliant lawyer and a sympathetic magistrate, I’d have spent the last two weeks at Her Majesty’s pleasure.”
Bailey’s spine stiffened. “Please remember, Mr Fox-Whittingham, that a young woman has died. We owe it to her and her family to find out who was responsible, and if that means treading on a few toes, then so be it.”
“And I’d appreciate it if you remember that I knew Mrs Reynolds. No one is sorrier than me that she is no longer here. But know this: if I find out that Fisher was behind some sort of vendetta because he blames me for the death of his sister, then I won’t rest until that man pays. Do I make myself clear?”
Bailey’s shoulders sagged as he realised that Rupe knew more than they had thought. He got stiffly to his feet, followed by Andrews. “Well, thank you for your time, Mr Fox-Whittingham. The CPS will be in touch with a formal notification regarding the charges being dropped.”
“Thanks,” Rupe muttered ungratefully. He opened the front door and watched as the officers drove away. He was about to close it when a taxi pulled up, and Jayne climbed out. Her face was flushed, her soft russet eyes shining in triumph. He gave her a hard stare, and she stopped in her tracks.
“Was that the police leaving?”
“Yes,” Rupe said, his tone sharp.
“They told you, right?” she said, a frown marring her perfect features as she laid eyes on his deep scowl. “The charges are being dropped?”
“Yes, they told me,” Rupe turned around and went back inside the house. Jayne must have followed because he heard the front door click shut. He wandered into the kitchen and picked up a bottle of whiskey.
“Want one?” he said as Jayne appeared at the kitchen door, her frown deeper, confusion and hurt warring for equal face time.
“I think I’d better. I thought you’d be thrilled.”
“I am,” he said, pouring two large measures. He pushed one across the kitchen island towards her. “But I’d rather have heard it from you before Laurel and fucking Hardy turned up here.”
Jayne rested her hands low on her hips. “I only found out a short time ago. Mike said the CPS was preparing the paperwork. I didn’t expect the police to get here so quickly.”
“You could have called,” he said, knowing he was being childish but unable to stop himself.
“I wanted to see your face, but now that I have, I wish I hadn’t bothered.” When he didn’t reply, she let out a deep sigh. “Congratulations, Rupert. You’re in the clear. Enjoy your freedom.”
When she disappeared into the hallway, Rupe muttered, “You dickhead, Witters,” under his breath. He ran after her and wrapped an arm around her waist as she reached for the front door. He pulled her flush against him. “I’m sorry,” he murmured in her ear.
“Get off me,” she gritted out.
“No.” He brushed her hair over her shoulder, leaving part of her neck bare. He pressed his lips against her warm skin, and she shuddered.
“I’m warning you, Rupert,” she said, pushing back against him. He hardened at the feel of her soft body and the way her backside pressed into his crotch.
“I told you, Jayne, I like it rough.” His tongue traced a path from her shoulder up to her ear, and he gently sucked on her earlobe.
Jayne groaned and tilted her head farther to the side.
“I’m a free man, Jayne. There’s nothing standing in the way of us being together—apart from you. What’s your next excuse going to be?”
“I hate you,” she said.
“Lying to yourself again, Jayne?”
He spun her around in his arms, his eyes searching hers. She broke from his gaze.
“Trust me,” he said softly.
Jayne slowly lifted her chin, and for the first time, he saw raw vulnerability. And then she looked past him, over his shoulder.
“Don’t hurt me,” she said, her voice so low that he had to strain to hear her, even at such a close distance.
He curved his hands around her face, leaned in and kissed her, slow and languorous. His pulse kicked up a notch when she kissed him back.
“You’re safe with me.” He took her hand and led her upstairs.
21
Jayne’s heart thundered, loud and fast, as Rupe guided her upstairs. It had taken a lot for her to give in, despite the rather cocky promises that she’d made to herself after she’d had that wet dream. Her cheeks reddened at the memory.
As Rupe pushed open the door to what she assumed was his bedroom, he frowned. “Why are you blushing?” When Jayne simply shook her head, he chuckled. “Don’t tell me—you’re a virgin.”
“Very funny.”
He trailed a fingertip down her burning cheek. “So why the flushed face?”
“Nothing,” Jayne said, desperate to get him off the subject. “It’s been a while, that’s all.”
Rupe’s expression switched from teasing to serious. “If it’s too soon—”
She cut him off by placing two fingers over his mouth. “Stop giving me a way out. I want this. I need this.”
Rupe nodded as he slowly removed the pins from her hair. When it fell around her shoulders,
he threaded his hands through it, feathering the strands. “You should wear your hair down more often.”
“So you’ve said. It’s too impractical.”
He twisted a lock around his finger. “But very sexy.”
Jayne’s breath hitched in her chest. She was being seduced by a master craftsman. Rupe was unhurried in his approach as he slipped her jacket from her shoulders. He laid it over the arm of a nearby chair, which surprised her. She’d expected him to toss it on the floor and move on to the next item of clothing. Instead, he froze in place, his eyes searching her face as though looking for a sign. When she nodded almost imperceptibly, he gave a broad white-toothed smile that made her knees shake and her stomach do the most delicious backflips.
He unfastened the buttons on her blouse, taking his time with each and every one. His fingers brushed her skin, lighting her on fire, and she shivered with delight. He pushed aside the two separate parts of her blouse to reveal a dusky pink bra that was her favourite but which she never wore to work. Perhaps she’d envisaged her day ending up like this—with her standing, nearly naked, in Rupe’s bedroom.
He made a sound of approval in his throat, his eyes glistening as they raked over her breasts, which peeked over the lace top of the balconette bra.
“Please tell me you’re wearing matching knickers,” he said, his voice low and husky.
Jayne felt her body loosen up. She’d always been a confident sexual partner, something Kyle had had trouble with. She sensed Rupe wouldn’t have the same issues.
“Why don’t you take my skirt off, and then you’ll find out.”
His eyes closed. When he reopened them, they held a hunger that took Jayne’s breath away. His hands snaked around her back, and he rolled down her zipper. The skirt dropped to the floor. Jayne was thrilled she’d chosen to wear stockings, because the look on Rupe’s face when his eyes fell on her matching suspender belt and thong was priceless.
“I’m not sure what I’ve done to deserve you, but I owe someone big time.”
Jayne tilted her head to the side. “I’m not sure you’ve done enough to say you deserve me yet.”
Rupe grinned, the lighthearted cad making a brief appearance before the serious lover returned. He took a step back, his eyes raking over her as she stood there in an outfit that was probably a fantasy for a lot of guys.
“Undress me, Jayne,” he said, his voice a guttural growl.
She swiftly pulled his T-shirt over his head and unfastened his belt. With nimble fingers, she unbuttoned his jeans, and as she peeled them down his legs, his erect cock sprang free. Jesus, he’s commando. And he’s enormous. He stepped out of his jeans and kicked them to one side, his face breaking into a grin as he correctly read Jayne’s surprised look.
“I prefer to let the air flow,” he said, drawing a much-needed laugh from her, which broke the tension.
“You’re an idiot.”
He reached for her, pulling her close to his body, and with his hands in her hair, he pressed his lips to hers once more. They were searing hot. He licked inside her mouth and wrapped his tongue around hers. At the same time, he slowly began to walk backwards, pulling her along with him until he fell on the bed and she landed on top of him. Like a pair of teenagers, they began to giggle until Rupe rolled over. As she lay beneath him, his eyes grew serious, his smile draining away. What replaced that smile was a longing and a hunger so deep that it made Jayne snatch a breath. If he was even half as good as her dream, she was in for a hell of a ride.
His mouth closed over hers but didn’t linger. His red-hot lips blazed a trail over her neck and across her collarbone, sinking farther south until he reached the swell of her breasts. He trailed one finger inside the lace cup of her bra, and as he brushed against her nipple, her stomach convulsed, and she hissed through her teeth.
He lowered his head, eased the cup of her bra down, and sucked her erect nipple into his warm, wet mouth. He wasn’t gentle, but she didn’t want gentle. She wanted hard and rough. She wanted to know, at the end of the night, that she’d been well and truly fucked.
She held his head firmly to her breast, and he picked up her cue, sucking on her nipple even harder. The sensation crossed over into pain when he bit, but dear God, it was oh, so good.
“Too much?” he murmured as he laved her nipple with his tongue.
Jayne shook her head. “Not enough.” She felt him grin against her flesh.
“Oh, Jayne, I think you may be my perfect woman.” He popped out her other boob so they were both sitting proud, supported by the underwire of her bra.
“Do you want to take it off?”
He shook his head. “I like the way they look, all bunched up like that.” His hands curved around her wrists, and he held her arms on either side of her head as he sucked hard on her breasts. Rupe hadn’t been joking when he said he liked it rough, but Jayne was discovering something new about herself: she liked it rough too.
He began to kiss farther down her body, but before he could delve between her legs and bring her dream to life, she put out a hand to stop him.
“Turn around,” she said. “If you’re going to suck me, I want to suck you.”
The groan that eased from his throat was the sexiest thing Jayne had ever heard, and a fresh gush of wetness pooled between her legs. He positioned his erection in line with her mouth and hooked her leg over his shoulder. As he swept his tongue over her folds, she clenched her hand around the base of his cock and pulled him inside her mouth. Because of his size, every time he thrust in, the head of his cock hit the back of her throat, but he withdrew before her gag reflex kicked in.
His teeth grazed her clit, and then he pushed his tongue inside her. He repeated the movement, and Jayne felt her insides building. The live version was so much better than her dream.
He pinched her clit between his fingers, sending her plunging into acute pleasure. Her body clenched around his tongue, which was still buried inside her. With a jerk, his cock twitched, and he came, pouring his semen into her mouth.
As he moved away, he’d barely softened, which was just fine by her, because as good as that had been, she wanted him inside her.
He twisted around and captured her face between his hands before kissing her hard. “Fuck, you give good head.”
“You’re pretty good yourself,” Jayne said with a smile.
“Give me five, and then I’m screwing you, so you’d better be prepared.”
Jayne chuckled. “Thanks for the warning.”
Rupe tilted his head to one side. “You know, Jayne, very few people surprise me, but you certainly have.”
“How so?”
He shrugged. “I expected you to be more withdrawn. I thought I’d have to coax you to let go. How wrong I was.”
Rupe leaned over to the cabinet beside his bed and removed a condom from an already open box. Jayne winced but clamped down on the feeling immediately. She had no right to go down that road. For God’s sake, she’d only met Rupe because he’d been in bed with a woman when she’d died. Did she think he was a monk? Regardless, she filed away the stab of jealousy for examination at a later date, because it couldn’t go unaddressed.
“Here,” he said, passing the square foil packet to her. “I hate condoms, but I like the idea of you rolling this onto me. One thing’s for sure, though—we’re getting checked out, and then I’m barebacking you.”
Jayne raised an eyebrow. “And what say do I get in this?”
Rupe kissed the tip of her nose. “None. Now, hurry up, because my cock is straining to be inside you.”
“You are such a charmer.” Jayne rolled the rubber down his erection. She expected him to assume a missionary position, but instead, he turned onto his back.
“I’ve fantasised for days about your hair falling all over my chest. Tonight, I’m fulfilling that dream. So, you—on top. And keep the thong on.”
With a grin, she straddled his thighs. After tugging her underwear to one side, she positioned his erection at
her entrance and slowly lowered herself down one inch at a time. Any faster, and her muscles wouldn’t be able to expand in time. The groan that escaped her when he was fully buried inside didn’t sound like her at all.
They began to move in unison, instantly finding a rhythm that usually took practice to arrive at—and even then didn’t always work out. It hadn’t with Kyle. They’d never quite got the tempo right, even after years of being together. But with Rupe, it was easy. He was the perfect key to her lock.
“Jesus, Jayne.” Rupe gripped her hips, his fingers digging into her flesh as he controlled the movement. “Talk about fantasies coming true.”
Lost in the moment, Jayne barely acknowledged that he’d spoken. A swell began to grow within her, and then, just when she thought it couldn’t peak any higher, her orgasm broke. The inner muscles of her core contracted furiously, and as she collapsed onto Rupe’s damp chest, she was vaguely aware of him groaning his own release.
She waited for her breathing to even out before slowly rising off his softening penis, but even with the reduced size, she winced as her body released him.
She flopped onto her back, her skin slick with sweat. A surge of emotion rose within her, and her eyes began to sting with unshed tears. What the hell? She wasn’t the teary type, but one masterful shag with a man who clearly knew what he was doing, and she was all of a dither. She squeezed her eyes tightly shut, but when Rupe closed his hand over hers, she couldn’t hold back, and a single tear ran down her cheek.
Rupe propped himself up on one elbow. “Jayne? What’s the matter? Did I hurt you?”
She shook her head. A maelstrom of emotions circled within her—pleasure beyond anything she’d ever experienced, an overwhelming sadness she didn’t understand, and the most frightening of all: regret. This had been a mistake. She was too broken, too emotionally inhibited to start up a new relationship right then. She’d wanted to fuck him out of her system, but that had been the wrong strategy. She was feeling things she shouldn’t with a guy she barely knew. Rupe was a cad, a playboy, a hedonist. If she let him, he’d take her precious, burgeoning self-confidence and stamp all over it.
Mismatch: A Winning Ace Novel (Book 4) (A Winning Ace Novel) Page 12
