Victor heard her plea and wanted to bury himself in her more than anything. Well, almost anything, he acknowledged with what was left of his rational thought. He wanted to please her, wanted her to experience the kind of mindlessness he had only touched upon the other night.
“I know what you want. But first,” he replied as he buried his face against her stomach, kissed the flat plain below her navel, and edged down the strip of garter belt and panties with his hands.
As he moved down her body to remove her clothes, the heat of her, her musky smell told him of her want and nearly undid his resolve. He bit his lip, took a fortifying breath, and kissed his way back up her legs. When he would have moved between her thighs to give her the most intimate of kisses, she closed to him.
Connie moaned a half-protest, shifting her legs together, unsure of what he proposed. “Victor?” she asked shakily.
“Let me taste you, Connie” he urged and kissed a spot above her bikini line.
Connie rose up on her elbows as he trailed his mouth over the sensitive skin on her inner thigh. He nuzzled her and slipped his hand between her thighs to find the nub hidden beneath her curls. With his thumb, he rubbed it gently. Warmth blossomed across her breasts. Her nipples tightened and her breasts felt suddenly full.
Victor smiled tightly and brushed a fleeting kiss on her thigh before he replaced his thumb with his mouth. He kissed the nub with his lips and slipped his thumb downward, entering her.
Connie groaned and closed her eyes.
He raised his free hand, gently pressed her down against the back of the sofa. He cupped her breast, stroking his thumb against the hard bud of her nipple while he brought her to the edge with his mouth and fingers. Licking and pressing against her until she gasped and light tremors traveled over her body, warning him that she was on the edge.
Victor wasted no time then. He sheathed himself in a condom and entered her tight, trembling body.
Connie gripped his shoulders and wrapped her legs around his waist as he drove into her, pushing her down into the cushions of the sofa with the force of his thrusts. Drawing ever higher as pleasure suffused her from the motion of his hips and his kisses against her mouth and the hard tips of her breasts. Inside, her body tightened and she arched her back, urging him on with soft cries and the press of her hands against his back.
As he bent his head and suckled at her breasts, each sharp pull of his mouth tugged her ever higher until with one strong thrust, a wave of pleasure swept over her body. She called out his name and dug her fingers into the hard muscles of his shoulders to keep him near.
With a few more strokes, he joined her with his own hoarse shout of completion, and collapsed on her.
Connie held him tight, cradling his body to hers until his breathing slowed and he shifted, brought them to lie along the length of the couch. Slowly her heartbeat returned to normal and her own breath calmed.
“I could get used to this,” she admitted, wanting him to know she had no regrets.
Victor raised himself on one elbow and looked down at her. “Maybe this wrist of yours needs a follow-up visit next week,” he said and gave her now castless limb a gentle shake.
She smiled and dropped a quick kiss on his chest. “Whatever the doctor orders.”
#
He had a small full bath at the end of the hallway opposite his office.
Connie put her hair up and took a quick shower. Afterward she dressed again and reapplied her makeup. When she left the bathroom, Victor was sitting in his waiting room. He had slipped his suit back on and substituted a white T-shirt, which still bore the fold lines from the packaging, for the dress shirt they had ruined earlier.
“I guess I have to let you go,” he said, a sad smile on his face.
Connie checked her watch. She had tarried too long. It had been close to three hours since she had arrived. “I do have to go. I’m sorry.”
He nodded, rose, and gave her a quick, almost chaste kiss on the cheek and at her questioning glance, he said, “I’d be too tempted to keep you otherwise.”
Grinning at his admission, she said, “I’ll call you to schedule the follow-up. I’ll miss you until then.”
But just to make sure he knew, she rose on her tiptoes and kissed him hungrily, leaving him no doubt. Leaving herself no doubt about what she did to him.
Chapter 17
The alarm went off with a shrill beep. Connie slammed it off and buried her head back under her pillow, wanting just five more minutes of sleep. She closed her eyes, thinking about the last three frustrating weeks.
She had spent yet another night last night at Liquid, a trendy Euro-style dance club on Washington Avenue. Two of the victims had been regulars there, but Connie had yet to run into any of the EUSA people at the club.
Which could mean only one of two things. If the killer was a regular at the dance club and not the pharmaceutical company, her entire profile was wrong. If the killer was at EUSA, he likely had no connection to the club and was picking his victims at some other location.
Connie preferred the latter option and not just because it kept her profile of the killer intact. She hated the noise and smoke of the clubs, the high heels that killed her feet, and the endless lame come-ons from the lounge lizards trolling for a one nighter.
She had discussed the issue with her team and thankfully, last night had been her final assignment at the club. While both Jeff and Sanchez were uncertain about ending that part of the surveillance, she had gotten surprising support from Stone. He had agreed with Connie, especially since their investigations had failed to turn up anyone at the club who had seen either of the women on the nights they had been killed. In fact, two bartenders had said the women had skipped the bar on those nights.
That put them back at the pharmaceutical house, and Stone, like Connie, had Trevor Gordon up on the list of suspects, although they had yet to connect him to either the ad agency or television station victims. Without more probable cause, they had reached a dead end in their investigation unless they did something to force a confrontation.
Connie’s profile of the killer suggested he liked powerful women, but had hidden problems with them either using that power to control him and/or with a rejection of him.
Gordon’s persona clearly fit that profile. Brenda’s comments had hinted at his inclinations toward women in charge and Connie’s legwork around EUSA confirmed that he preferred to date management-type women. The problem was some of his old flames were still around.
A background check on Gordon revealed his parents had been divorced when he was twelve. His father had kept custody, which was unusual. His mother had apparently left the family to take a position at an Ivy League college as a professor. The plan had been for Gordon and his father to join her, but somehow that hadn’t happened. No other negative occurrences had turned up on Gordon and the parents’ divorce alone wasn’t enough to suggest the kind of behavior that had resulted in the murders. There didn’t seem to be enough in his background to indicate why Gordon would slip over the edge or whether he had psychopathic tendencies, although anything was possible. Of course, possible was a long way from probable.
Still, the strong, absent mother figure and her rejection might be the correlation with his current behavior. A woman in power rejecting Trevor Gordon might be the trigger for violent behavior if he was still angry at his mother and unable to express it.
She had to find a way to press him and make him break since he was their prime suspect and she had spent a good deal of time with him. She and Trevor had seen each other regularly at the health club and work. They ate lunch together often and had gone out to dinner on two occasions. Trevor clearly believed their relationship was going somewhere and that worked to her advantage. She was certain that if she dumped Gordon or challenged his authority in some fashion, it would motivate him to act.
Jeff and Sanchez had not wanted to risk subjecting her to a possible attack. Again, Stone had surprised her by agreeing that he did not
believe Gordon would act unless Connie took some kind of action to anger him.
She wanted a break in the case already since she hated the dead ends they had encountered.
She was also growing frustrated personally, much like she and Victor had discussed three weeks earlier. She hated not being able to be with Victor or her family. The “follow-up” visit they had planned had never happened. Neither could find the free time to fit the other’s schedule.
Victor had called her as promised however, almost every day. They had talked, one night for close to an hour. With every call, she had come to know him better and realize how much he meant to her. How much she needed him in her life.
She wanted to solve the case, but not only for herself and a return to a more normal life. She needed to do it to protect some other woman from ending up dead.
The serial killer had not struck again, but time was growing short. If he continued with the pattern from the earlier killings, he would make a move again any day. Because of that, she intended to force the issue with Trevor Gordon.
Later that day, Trevor was supposed to meet with her and his boss, the Director of Marketing, to discuss the ongoing problems with the other drug company. She suspected Trevor thought their new friendship and dates would either sway her to change her opinion or at least cover his tail and provide him an out by blaming Jessica Wheeler.
Trevor was in for a big surprise.
From beneath the pillow she still had covering her face, she heard the beep of her cell phone. She tossed aside the pillow, snared her phone, and as she saw that it was Victor, answered.
“Hello, Victor,” she said, her voice husky from sleep.
“Do you know how sexy you sound?” Victor asked, his own tones low and intimate.
She chuckled and said, “I’m glad you called. I was just thinking about you.”
He sighed and it was filled with longing. “Good things, I hope. I wish I was there with you right now, waking up beside you. Holding you.”
She melted inside, remembering how they had awoken together that one morning which now seemed so long ago. “I can’t wait for this to be over so we can be together,” she replied and let him know they were pressing, hoping to have a break in the case within the next few days.
“I’m glad, but please don’t take any unnecessary chances. I want you in one piece the next time I see you.”
“Don’t worry. Rumor has it we know what we’re doing and I have plenty of backup. I’ll be okay.” Although Connie reassured him, it was almost as if to reassure herself as well. She had been feeling uneasy about the plan of action they had agreed upon, even though she was certain it was the only way to draw out the killer.
Victor murmured a hesitant, “I hope so. I’ll call you tomorrow. Take care of yourself.”
Connie returned his goodbye and shut off the phone. She lay in bed for a few more minutes and ran through a host of possible scenarios in her mind until she felt comfortable she had all the bases covered. She had to be prepared for any contingency. It was the only way to guarantee her safety and that of her team.
#
Connie’s assistant announced that Trevor and his boss, the Director of Marketing, had arrived for their meeting.
“Please send them in, Brenda,” Connie advised and as the two men entered, she greeted them and motioned for them to take a seat before her desk. When she returned to her desk, she took command of the meeting, aware that Trevor might not like that very much.
“I’m glad you were able to meet with me to discuss this trade dress issue.”
Garrett Cummings, the Director of Marketing, shot an uneasy glance at Trevor before speaking. “It’s not like we had much choice considering the cease and desist letter we received. I understand that there may be some way to deal with this that doesn’t involve changing our shape and colors?”
She looked at Trevor for only the barest second before answering. “I don’t know where you got that impression, Mr. Cummings. I’ve reviewed this matter as has outside legal counsel. We both feel that we have little choice but to make the changes.”
Cummings tapped his hands on the arms of her chair and with a quick condemning look at Trevor, he said, “I thought you said we were safe to proceed, Gordon.”
“I thought we were, Garrett. Jessica Wheeler and I had discussed the issue,” Trevor replied with forced calm, although color rode high on his cheeks and he took a moment to glare at her, as if hoping for her support.
“Did she put that opinion in writing, Gordon?” the director pressed.
“She said she would, but you know what happened and we can’t find a written opinion,” Trevor stammered, but his superior didn’t appear to be moved by the unusual circumstances.
Cummings eyeballed her intently. “Are we sure we have no other choice?”
“None and I can find no record of Ms. Wheeler offering a different opinion.”
The color rode high on Trevor’s face, now nearly crimson. His hands gripped the arms of the chair so tightly, his knuckles were white from the pressure. All three of them recognized that the change of the color and shape of their new drug and the related problems it would present with manufacturing and advertising would be costly. But so would a lawsuit if the other company pressed the issue.
The director rose and said, “I’m going to have to check with the rest of the team to see how long it will take for us to deal with any changes. Do you think we’ll be able to hold them off for a little bit?”
“I can draft a detailed response and buy us a little time. Maybe even work out a sell-off of current inventory while you make whatever changes were recommended in my opinion.”
“Good. Make that happen,” he said and then stared hard at Trevor, his displeasure evident. “I will speak to you later about this.”
When Cummings left the room, Trevor stood, his fists clenched. His body trembled with the force of his anger as he said, “Why didn’t you help me out?”
“What did you want me to do? Hang it on Wheeler? Are you such a coward that you’d blame a dead woman?” Connie goaded, wanting to push him beyond his limit.
Trevor cursed under his breath, but then leaned forward over the narrow space of the desk until they were almost nose-to-nose. “Bitch. I thought we had something,” he hissed, reminding her about the time they had spent together.
“That was personal,” Connie replied, making it clear that whatever they had had was now over. “This is business.”
Trevor slammed his palms on her desktop and for a moment, she thought he’d reach over right then and make it physical. At the last moment, he seemed to gather himself, but he was visibly shaking as he stormed out of her office.
In her earpiece, Connie heard Jeff say, “Good work, Connie. You cut him down to size.”
“Let’s just hope that makes him mad enough to make a mistake.”
#
Trevor didn’t approach her again at the office, but she saw him at the gym later that night.
He didn’t say anything or make a move to approach her. He only glared at her as he worked his way around the stations in the weight room.
Connie did the only thing possible to goad him even more.
She walked over to Stone and in full view of the entire gym, she came on to him. Seemingly in synch with her thoughts, Stone responded, wrapping his arms around her waist and staying plastered to her side as they worked out at the next few stations.
Connie played it up, sexily smiling and laughing with him. Even offering up some public display of affection which Stone lapped up convincingly.
Trevor watched the spectacle for only a few minutes and then stormed out of the room, his face crimson with anger.
Both she and Stone stayed to finish their workout and in whispered tones, discussed what Gordon might do next. As a precaution, Connie called Jeff and Dave in the van to alert them to the situation, but their surveillance failed to reveal any sign of Gordon on her drive home or during the night.
Two d
ays went by without any further contact from Gordon.
Connie was beginning to worry that the confrontation in her office and the spectacle in the gym had been wasted efforts. But if Trevor Gordon was not the killer, that meant another woman was in jeopardy and she hated the thought of that.
It weighed heavily on her mind as she headed out that night, intending to go home and review her profile to see if she had made a major mistake and a serial killer would soon be striking again.
As she neared her car, a blur of movement several cars down caught her attention.
Gordon was getting into a black Miata not far from where her car was parked. He didn’t start it right away. If anything, he seemed to be delaying as she took her time getting into her car and lowering the top on her convertible. While she was doing that, she spoke in soft tones in the hopes her team would hear her over the earpiece.
“Do you copy Gordon’s position?” she said, making believe that she was checking something in her purse while keeping an eye on Gordon. He had yet to pull out of his spot, making her wonder if he was waiting to follow her.
“Yes, we copy. Stone’s on it,” Jeff said, although the words were slightly garbled as he broke in and out over the earpiece. The communication in the parking lots was hampered by all the cement and metal of the structures.
Satisfied that her team was in place, she drove out of the parking lot and worked her way along Brickell Avenue and battled the tail end of rush hour traffic to reach the streets leading to the causeway. She kept a close eye on Gordon, who was several cars behind her, as well as Stone, who had slipped into place behind their suspect.
The early evening sun beat down relentlessly and Connie was tempted to close up the convertible. But the view with the top down was infinitely better than with it up. The small rear window left little room to see and she wanted to be able to confirm that both Gordon and Stone were still behind her in the snarl of traffic clogging the causeway to South Beach.
As the light before her went to green, she cautiously moved ahead because she feared that with the traffic, neither man would make it through the short light. At her delay, another car suddenly surged forward and smacked right into a vehicle that had been trying to make a right. The accident trapped her in the intersection for a second while other cars maneuvered around her.
Now and Always Page 15
