Lauren shivered when he heard his voice. It was music to her ears.
“I missed you too,” she murmured.
“Should we eat at your apartment? I’ll bring food,” David suggested.
“Yeah, that would be great,” she approved happily.
David brought sushi, which they consumed voraciously.
“Can I stay for the night?” David asked, embracing Lauren warmly.
“Umm.” She hesitated. What if David was a murderer?
An idea sprouted in her mind. Remembering the mole on the killer’s forearm, she resolved to find out. What a dumbass she was! Why hadn’t she thought of that sooner? But she had to be cautious. She must be unobtrusive. If he was the real killer, it would be dangerous.
Before Lauren could say any more, David pinned her to the wall, kissing her face, her neck, her cleavage, and inserted his fingers inside her panties, touching her eager pussy. She was already wet. Closing her eyes, she mumbled as his fingers traced small circles on her breasts. “Oh, yes . . .”. She was horny as hell. When their lips met, she traced his lips with her own and licked them. They were delectable. Sucking his tongue juicily,she nuzzled his nose.
Just then, the doorbell rang.
They ignored it, hungrily stroking, caressing and massaging each other’s bodies, but the doorbell kept ringing. Lauren’s cell phone was ringing too.
“Answer it. It might be an emergency,” David stopped and prodded Lauren.
“Hello,” she was gasping for air.
“Bryan here, are you okay?”
“Yes.”
“I’m outside your apartment. Please open the door.”
David and Lauren looked at each other in frustration.
“I guess you will have to let him in. There’s always a next time,” he said softly.
Bryan had a box of beer with him, “I presumed you were alone.” He eyed David glumly.
Sitting in Lauren’s sparsely decorated living room, they had a beer and talked about the goings-on at the hospital.
“What do you think is happening at the research cancer ward?” Bryan asked David.
“We don’t know yet, and it’s so hard knowing it must be one of the staff. I hate to speculate because of that. It just wouldn’t be fair.”
“You’re right, but this is destroying the morale of the staff. They should nail that sonofabitch quickly,” Bryan stated disgustedly. “It sucks to be waiting for the shit to hit the fan.”
Lauren looked from one to the other, wondering if one was a killer. But neither could be! What was she thinking? They were both so respectable and dedicated. Perhaps, the killer was one of the male nursing aides?
Chapter 7
On Lauren’s evening shift, she was assigned to the research cancer ward as she and Roy had agreed. During her duty, she acted as guard, nurse and overseer by double checking and monitoring everyone who entered the ward. She recalled that the three remaining ‘suspects’ would be interrogated that day. The hospital had been tight-lipped about their identity because no formal charges had been laid.
After Lauren’s shift, Dr. Roy Barnes called for a staff meeting. He was visibly irked. “The police are still investigating but we have to continue with our clinical trials. I have already explained to the rest of the research subjects that the cause of death wasn’t due to the drug but, understandably, they are upset.” Roy paused and looked directly at Lauren. “The incident is causing concern with the patients, and some of them would like to withdraw. The significant improvement in their prognosis, however, has made them stay. But if this doesn’t end I can’t blame them for quitting. Let’s be more vigilant.”
According to Roy, the growth of cancer cells in the test patients had been contained. It was a “miracle” that everyone was ecstatic about – except the killer, presumably. What could his motive be? They all wondered. Sadly, even the police were unable to establish a clear motive for the crimes.
Lauren was physically and mentally drained after the meeting with Roy. He was right, she mused. She was the vital key to catching the killer. If only she could remember more. She lumbered sluggishly towards the car park.
“What’s wrong? You look haggard,” David stood in her path.
“Huh?” Lauren looked up, startled.
David clasped her hand, “Let’s go to my place, honey.” He didn’t let go of her until they had reached his car. “Let’s leave your car here.”
Lauren was too tired to protest. David’s house was thirty minutes away from the medical center. It was a spacious, stylish, flat-roofed Spanish bungalow that housed his own mini lab, music room and swimming pool. There was a nicely decorated patio attached, ideal for star gazing at night.
“Welcome to my home,” he led her inside. “Make yourself comfortable.”
Lauren flopped onto the cozy, velvety couch.
“Shall we order food?” David asked Lauren. “Any preferences?”
“I’m fine with sandwiches. I’m too sleepy to eat.” She felt at home with him – and secure. After all the intimate encounters that they’d had, Lauren sensed a vital bond.
“I’ll make them. You go ahead and wash.” David instructed her. “That way is the bedroom. You can use any of my t-shirts,” he indicated the direction. “And that way is the bathroom. Your sandwich will be ready when you’re done.” He winked at her. “Will a tuna sandwich be okay?”
“I love tuna sandwiches,” she mumbled, and walked toward his room.
Lauren entered David’s bedroom feeling her eyelids droop. She entered the walk-in closet, and was surprised to find David’s clothing so well organized. White polo shirts were all in one area, while his watches, ties and cuff links were in separate parts of a cabinet. His brand-name t-shirts were all neatly folded in another area, with some hanging tidily in the upper portion of the closet.
She selected a navy blue Gucci shirt. As she grabbed the hanger, a folder fell from the top shelf to the floor. She stooped to retrieve it when the label of the folder caught her eye. It read: ‘Research Cancer Victims’. Automatically, she scanned the contents of the folder with trembling fingers. The next pages contained, ‘Names of Victims,’ ‘Established Causes of Death’, ‘Amount of Potassium Chloride in Blood’, ‘Staff on Duty’ and ‘Progress of Investigation’.
The sound of David’s approaching footsteps alerted Lauren and she swiftly put the folder back.
“Did you find something to wear?” David asked.
Lauren didn’t trust her voice to speak, so she simply nodded.
David pushed her towards the bathroom, “Go ahead and shower if you like. Then we’ll eat.”
Lauren, her knees weak, locked the door of the bathroom and slumped to the floor. What was the folder doing in David’s closet? Why was he so interested in the case? She was aware he had one research patient, but the content didn’t contain his patient’s record. Was he the murderer? She was shivering in fear, afraid to move. But the notion that another patient might be the next victim strengthened her resolve to discover the truth. She had to know today.
“Hey, Lauren, is everything okay?” David knocked at the door.
“Yeah, I’ll be out in a moment,” she controlled the tremor in her voice.
She showered quickly, took a few deep breaths, and then emerged from the bath with a bright smile on her face.
“Wow, you’re a lovely nymph.” He took five long strides and enclosed her in an ardent embrace, smelling her freshly shampooed hair, “Mmmmm, smells like a baby.”
He started kissing her, but she turned away. “Let’s eat first, I’m starving.” Her composure was back and her hands became steady.
When they were finished eating, they sat out on the patio drinking coffee. Lauren’s heart was torn in two. She wanted to ask outright if he was the criminal, but she was afraid to. Her heart told her he was innocent, but her mind rejected the idea.
“What’s wrong?” David watched her with concern. “You seem preoccupied.”
“I was ju
st thinking about the awful deaths at the research cancer ward.”
“Yes, it’s horrifying, but can we forget it for a while?” He went to her and held her hands. “I want to spend this time with you – alone. I’ve missed you.”
Lauren’s longing for him surfaced, and she wanted to kiss him and relish his lips.
“But I’ll take a shower first,” David touched her cheek. “See you in the bedroom?”
She panicked inwardly. Was she about to sleep with a killer? She had to find a way to determine if he had a mole on his forearm. Was it the left or the right arm? Why hadn’t she thought about this strategy the first time they made love? Perhaps, because she was in denial?
David came out of the bathroom wearing just a towel around his waist. Lauren felt her insides come to life; looking at his trimmed abs and muscular biceps. Her body clamored for him. She felt her vagina quiver and become moist.
David let the towel fall and took her into his arms. She was lost in the miasma of sensual delight. When their lips met, Lauren forgot everything else, except the burning pleasure that his lips granted her. Look at his arm, look at his arm, a voice inside her bellowed, but she was beyond salvation, her body craving fulfillment. David’s enormous erection pulsated between their pressed bodies. Lauren stood on her toes with her arms around David’s neck, as they kissed passionately. He massaged the lips of her slit as he kissed her, making her mad with desire.
Look at his arm, she reminded herself.
“Lie down on the bed, and let me love you.” Don’t be too obvious, she told herself.
David, his face suffused with passion, hurriedly did as told, his penis sticking out proudly as he lay naked on the bed.
Lauren wanted desperately to consummate the act; her body was hungry for him. But she was determined to learn the truth this time. Was he the killer or not? She straddled him, and kissed him on the lips, her body pliant under his spell, BUT she had to learn the truth. She showered his face with feathery kisses that went down to his right arm and forearm, her hands trembling in anxiety. What would she do if she found out that he was the murderer? David’s manhood was searching its way to her love tunnel, but she was still fully dressed.
Lauren tried to ignore her terror and discreetly examined his right arm. Much to her relief, she didn’t find a single mole. She shifted places and transferred her lips to his left arm, raining it with kisses, while searching for the dreaded mole. Her heart in her throat, she shrunk from going on, but was compelled to do so. She had to know the truth. Showering kisses halfway down his left arm she noticed something dark. Her heart froze, and her breathing stopped. She examined it more closely. She let out a long, drawn out sigh of relief when she saw that it was only a piece of lint. David had no mole on either of his arms!
The realization that David was not the murderer overcame Lauren with such intensity that she lay inert on his heaving and sweaty chest for a while. This fired David up. He gently pushed Lauren down toward his aching, throbbing schlong. “Will you suck it,” he begged her.
Lauren didn’t wait for a second request. She held his hard dong in her hand and gently massaged it with her fingers. Using her tongue, she explored its crown, running her tongue over and over around it, until he groaned wildly and had to grab her hair to direct her movements.
“Suck me,” he rasped.
And she did, with gentle, blowing motions. She used her fingers to massage the base of his manhood and to fondle his balls in her fingers. His organ was so enormous that at first, she couldn’t take it all in, but she began to acquire the skill as she went on, letting his shaft slide into her mouth. This provided more space for him. She sucked it gently as she slid her ‘toothless’ mouth in and out of him.
“Imagine it’s your clit. Treat it as you want your clit treated,” he gave her some pointers.
She understood what he meant. Her clit loved gentle touches, and that was the way she did her first blow-job.
As she was giving him physical ecstasy, at the back of her mind, she was thinking of the killer. It wasn’t David, of course, she concluded. But what about David’s hair? It matched perfectly that of the killer! the voice inside her murmured yet again. Maybe she was mistaken about the presence of the mole. The investigators would further interrogate them the next day, and this would shed light on the truth, Lauren pacified herself. Forget it for now!
David returned the favor. Rolling Lauren below him, he lowered himself to pleasure her. Kissing her breasts, sucking her nipples, all the while caressing the contours of her body, he gradually kissed her stomach, her triangular mound, her legs, slowly bringing his mouth to the lips of her vagina. Licking and flicking his tongue, he explored the walls of her slit, creating a tingle that she could hardly stand. Moaning and arching her neck, Lauren begged, “ ooohhhh, please . .” Finally, his tongue stroked her clit, causing her to cry out blissfully. Trembling and jerking she came with such rapture stars flashed, over and over again. Smiling at her complete abandon, David slid his engorged cock into her, filling her with satisfaction. Their hips grinding in unison, they were lost in pleasure, both coming at once. “Oh my god, that was good,” she murmured. Their bodies, soaked with sweat and their juices, fused together.
Chapter 8
Bryan seemed unaware of the fact that he was one of the three persons to be questioned regarding the deaths. He was his usual jovial self when he came on duty that night. He greeted everyone with his easy smile, and jovial personality.
“How have you been?” He offered Lauren a wide grin.
“Good.”
It was break time. Lauren and Bryan were alone in the staff room. Bryan placed an arm on Lauren’s shoulders. She felt anxiety course though her spine and she stiffened. But he pinned her to the chair and kissed her half-opened lips, capturing her lower lip between his and lapping it tastily.
“No, don’t.” Lauren pushed him away.
As she did so, the sleeve of his lab gown slid up his forearm exposing a large, unmistakable mole!
Lauren gasped. She couldn’t forget that mole. Stark realization dawned on her and she stood up, rooted to the spot.
Bryan noticed her reaction. “What’s up?” he asked her.
“Nothing,” she countered. “I’m just tired.”
I must call David! Or the police, she thought. But what about Bryan’s hair? It wasn’t black or gelled. Maybe, she was wrong about the mole. Maybe, she had just imagined it. She gazed at Bryan’s auburn hair and chastised herself for allowing her imagination to run wild. Lots of people had big moles on their forearms. It was not conclusive evidence. How could she accuse Bryan with only that?
Bryan looked at her strangely. He gave her a quick peck, and ambled out of the room, whistling.
Lauren stared at him, still confused.
It was 3 a.m. when Lauren went to the research cancer ward for her assigned rotation. Deep in thought, she strode down the hallway. Suddenly she was jolted out of her reverie. Someone had bumped into her! Looking up, she saw the masked man. Grabbing her shoulders, he clamped her mouth forcibly with a handkerchief before she could scream, and dragged her into a nearby stockroom. With one strong arm he held her while he hogtied her, making use of clothing materials stocked in the room. Flinging her down, he dumped her unceremoniously into the farthest corner of the room. Lauren landed with a flump; the air knocked out of her for a moment. She felt so helpless! However, she was grateful she wasn’t blindfolded. This time she mustered ample effort to remain calm, so she could observe every feature of the masked man; his body structure, his complexion, his hair, his hands and everything that could help identify him later on. Why was she always encountering him? It was as if, he was deliberately waiting for her to appear.
The masked man observed her for a minute before sneaking out of the room. When he left, she repeatedly banged her head, hands and feet on the wall until a hospital staff discovered her. Bedlam ensued with the arrival of the police. She was asked to answer questions anew.
“I
t’s you,” the police officer stated sotto voce. “Was it the same man?”
“Yes,” Lauren said, her nervousness slowly abating. “I can remember more of his physical features.”
“Right, tell me.”
“He had the same gelled black hair. He’s about 6 feet, muscular, and he was wearing gloves and a doctor’s gown.”
“Anything else?”
“He was wearing Adidas shoes.”
“If you remember more, call us up.”
When they looked at the CCTV tapes the police saw the masked man hiding in a corridor trying to sneak in as the guards changed shift. However, he’d run away because three nurses had emerged from both ends of the hallway. That was when he crashed into Lauren. And there was no masked man in the videos taken in the lobby or the elevators. This confirmed the suspicion that it was an inside job.
The chief of the hospital, Dr. Eric Holmes, was raving mad, and demanded that the cops resolve the problem soon. They promised that the continuing interrogation the following day would bring more tangible results.
“What happened?” Bryan ran to Lauren’s side. “Was it you that saw him again?” he asked anxiously.
Annabelle's Angst: NEW ADULT CONTEMPORARY SUSPENSE ROMANCE Page 24
