by Sable Hunter
“I’m sure she has lots of friends.”
“Yea, same with Mona’s apartment.” He shook his head. “The one thing we can verify through the fingerprints is there wasn’t a match between the two scenes.”
“No fingerprint on the clues, not even on the tape used to affix them to the surfaces where they were found?”
“No.” Saxon huffed out a harsh breath. “I think we can safely assume the killer wore gloves.”
“Anything under their fingernails?”
“Only their own skin where they clawed at whatever was choking them. The police are still analyzing fibers and hair, but that type of trace evidence was as plentiful as the fingerprints at the scene. While the police forensic departments comb through those, we’re going to have to go our own way with our own form of research. They’ll continue to make anything they zero in on available to us, and we’ll incorporate their findings as we go.”
“How about the murder weapon? I know they were strangled, were there finger impressions around their neck? Bruising?”
Saxon admired her thought process; she was methodical and thoughtful in her questioning, forcing him to think as they went along. “He didn’t use his hands. I have photos.” He reached for them, then hesitated. “They’re graphic. Do you want to see?”
“Yes, I need to.” Alivia steeled herself. When Saxon handed her a stack of 8x10 photos, she held her breath as she began to look. “Oh, these poor women.” She quickly leafed through, trying not to look at their faces, horrified at their expressions of fear, panic, and helplessness. After she’d made one pass, Alivia started over again, focusing on the injury itself. “I see the scratch marks.” She shuddered, imagining what dying like this must be like. “How odd. There are impressions, uneven impressions. What do you make of that?”
Saxon leaned closer. “The police think the killer might’ve used some type of a chain from behind them, like a garrote.”
“Hmmm.” Alivia stared at the details of the injury on the women. “Looks like bead marks to me.”
“Beads?”
“Yea, like a necklace.”
“Wouldn’t a necklace break with that much pressure?”
Alivia frowned. “Yea, unless it was strung on metal or wire, which is possible.”
“I don’t know. Beads would indicate a woman.” Saxon shook his head. “I don’t think a woman would be this strong. Women usually don’t get this up close and personal when they kill, they prefer using poison or a gun.”
“Let’s not rule out anything. Women can be strong, and they can be angry enough to do something like this.”
“Maybe.”
“Okay, there’s no need for us to jump to conclusions at this stage. I’d like to read the police reports, the coroners’ reports, and all the testimonies the local cops have collected.”
“Good idea.” Saxon handed everything to Alivia.
“Okay, I’ll wade through this stuff and make note of anything we can use. Would it be okay if I scanned them into my cloud?”
“Sure, whatever you can do to move the process forward will be appreciated,” Saxon agreed. “I can use all the help I can get.”
“Well, that’s kinda why Micah brought me on. Right?” She winked at him. “Because you need help.”
Saxon narrowed his eyes at Alivia. The sense of comradery was gone, and they were back to being opponents. “I’d suggest we make this into a challenge between us, but out of respect for the victims, I’ll refrain.”
Alivia got his message. “Cooperation is key.” Still, she figured he felt the same way she did. The gauntlet had been thrown down between them.
After a half hour of nothing but the noise of their fingers banging away at their keyboards echoing in the small office, Alivia pushed back from the desk. “I’d love a cup of coffee.”
“The kitchen’s downstairs. Feel free to make use of it,” she was told by her counterpart.
“I wasn’t asking you to make it for me, Saxon. Geez. You’re some crappy host. Do you know that?”
“Sorry, I’m not Violet. You’ll have to tend to your own wants while you’re here.”
“That’s not what you said earlier,” she teased him. “You told Micah you could fulfill all my needs.”
Saxon grimaced. “Yea, I was being polite.” He might not be willing to fetch her a cup of coffee, but Saxon knew of one need he’d be glad to tend to…and in the process, he could satisfy one of his own – a need that had been throbbing under his desk the entire time they’d been alone.
Alivia was behind him now. “How do you know about Violet?”
Shit! Busted. “Uh…it’s common knowledge.” He turned around in his chair to face her. “I did some research on you.”
A tiny smile creased Alivia’s lips despite her trying to keep it at bay. “Did you?”
That little smirk nearly made Saxon pop out of his jeans, and he wheeled back around quickly to his monitor. “Don’t flatter yourself. When Micah said you’d be helping us out, I looked you up. Always good to have some sort of intel on the people you work with.”
Alivia wasn’t totally buying what he was selling, but she let it slide. The idea of Saxon cyberstalking her didn’t bother her as much as it normally might have. After all, she’d probably stalked him just as much or more.
“Would you like a cup?” she asked in a bid to break the hostility.
“Yes, please. Two sugars, one cream.”
“All right.” It was the first time Alivia had smiled since she’d entered the room. “Be back in a bit.”
When she returned, he accepted her peace offering, but the shared beverage only broke the tension for a short amount of time. In spite of any work progress, they did nothing but get on each other’s nerves.
“I need that,” Saxon said when they had both reached for a pen on the desk beside them at the same time.
“So, do I,” Alivia responded.
“Well, it’s the only one I have.”
She let him have it. “What kind of person doesn’t stock their office with pens?”
“What kind of person doesn’t bring a pen with them to work?”
The man was infuriating. He argued with her at every point. “I may have some questions after I’ve perused these reports. What do you think about setting up some facetime with the local detectives online?”
“Not a good idea,” Saxon scoffed. “I think you’d want to talk to those people in person.”
“Why?” Alivia demanded to know, sensing Saxon was just arguing for argument’s sake.
“Because nuances are lost online; you can’t read their body language as well.”
“These are policemen, not the criminal. Why would they be hiding something from us?”
“I didn’t say they would be.” He knew he wasn’t making any sense. Rising from his desk, he paced the room like a caged tiger. “Listen, I don’t think you being here is the best idea. I don’t think we can work together.”
Even though this wasn’t too far from her reasoning, she wasn’t about to agree with him. Besides, Micah was right. They were both outstanding in their field. Separate, they were both imminently qualified. Together – they should be mind-blowing. She swiped a hand over her forehead as her own thought process left her hot and bothered. “Look, I know we are both aware of our abilities and our limitations – which, considering we’re both damn good at what we do, are few.” Somehow, she felt like he didn’t respect her abilities and Alivia’s hackles were raised. “What have you got against me anyway?”
“Oh, let’s see,” Saxon mused. “You hacked my game. You broke into my private computer. You’ve treated me like shit in public.” His voice dropped. “You thought the worst about me, even after…” Saxon cleared his throat. “Essentially, you called me a liar after I told you I left you a message. I never intended to walk away from you.” He didn’t give her a chance to respond. “Forget it. Let’s get back to work.”
How could he tell her that the sight of her creamy shoul
ders in that damn sundress was driving him insane with need?
How could he tell her that her smell drove him up the wall?
That just being this close to her was enough to make him lose focus?
Goddammit! He’d read Mindy Nixon’s Twitter posts for the month of August seven times because he couldn’t concentrate with Alivia here.
Alivia was shaken. His tirade had hit home. “I’m sorry.”
He looked at her, and she looked at him. The heat between them became a tangible reality. “You are?”
“Yea, I…”
Their conversation abruptly came to a halt when Micah plowed through the door. “We have another one.”
“Another what?” Saxon asked, his eyes still on Alivia.
“Another murder.”
“God, no,” Alivia whispered. “Where? Who?”
Micah sat down, slapping a paper between them. “Amarillo. Her name was Amanda Syrian, and she was found in a mall dressing room. Strangled.”
“Another beauty queen.” Saxon didn’t even phrase the comment like a question.
“Miss Panhandle.”
“Did they find the parchment paper clue?” Saxon asked, transfixed.
“Yea,” Micah picked up the pen that Alivia and Saxon had fought over. “It was taped behind the mirror. These are the letters.” He wrote them on the paper as Alivia read them.
“S. O. J. E. I.” Alivia looked at Saxon. “Josie. I think the letters are scrambled names.”
“Maybe.” Saxon pulled on the string of his hoodie. “But whose names? Not the victims.”
“I don’t know,” Alivia mused.
“Well, you have even more data to insert now. So, why don’t you two break for lunch, them come back to it, hot and heavy.”
Hot and heavy.
Once they were alone, the tension between them only seemed to grow. “We could order in,” she said, wetting her lips with her tongue. “Are you hungry?”
“Ravenous.” His piercing eyes made her feel as if he were staring into her very soul. Saxon had the look of an underfed animal who hadn’t eaten in a month, and Alivia was a juicy steak.
“All right, how about pizza? Conan’s is good. Or a donut from Gourdough’s?” She dug in her purse for her cell. “I have contact information and menus right here. Which one sounds most appetizing?” She looked up for his opinion. His intense gaze stole some of her breath, leaving her knees shaky. “What are you hungry for, Saxon?”
For what seemed like endless nights, he’d fantasized and plotted what he’d do if he ever found himself alone with her again. He should’ve gone to her and kissed her the second Micah left them alone, but she’d been so cold to him, and he hadn’t acted. As he stared at her now, all those plans and thoughts came flooding back. He looked away from her eyes and down to her lips. “You.”
His eyes on her mouth and his fantastical one-word answer shot her temperature up a thousand degrees. “You want me?” she asked breathlessly. “Even…after…everything?”
Alivia nibbled on her bottom lip, sending chills down Saxon’s back. His cock surged in his pants, and his palms itched to touch her again. His only response was a low growl and a slow head nod.
God, it filled her with nervous energy to be looked at like this. Having those eyes on her was a heady enough prospect, but she could practically see him vibrate with need.
Need for her!
“We aren’t going to be able to work unless we get this out of our systems, are we?”
Saxon moved his head from side to side, never breaking the gaze from her lips.
“But is it wise? I mean, we should strive for professionalism. Nothing can come of this anyway; we’re too much alike. I have my hang-ups. I’m sure you have yours. Maybe, we should just ignore this…”
“Hush, Alivia.” He locked his office door, then walk to her and yanked her close, grinding his forehead against hers. “Just shut that beautiful, ripe, little mouth long enough for me to kiss you.”
Saxon fell on her like a starving man. Savagely kissing her, his tongue exploring her honey-glazed mouth. A moan tried to escape her lips, but Saxon swallowed it up, gripping her hips and pressing her back against the closed office door. As if unsure of his welcome, he kept his hands in safe places, one bracing against the wall, the other wrapped in her hair, tugging on that strand of electric blue.
They’d been sparring for the last few hours, dancing around each other in a maddening bout of foreplay that bordered perilously close to hostility. From one moment to the next, she didn’t know if they were sworn blood enemies or soulmates.
Neither – she was going for neither.
They were associates with an itch that needed to be scratched. Anything else was too painful and confusing to contemplate. Removing his hand from her hair, she guided it to the needy spot between her legs. He stopped kissing her long enough to find her gaze, and she watched his nostrils flare, his eyes grow heated as they both tugged at her skirt. In the next breath, she urged his hand to cup her where she needed him the most. “Touch me, Abbott.”
Standing on tiptoe, she fused her lips to his, grinding against his hand and encouraging him to move his fingers. His mouth was hard, his cheeks rough, and he tasted of candy. Feverishly, she allowed her hands to explore his chest, still exposed by the unzipped hoodie. When their tongues met, he groaned, feasting at her mouth while he massaged her aching center.
“Damn, what you to do me,” he murmured as he pressed the heel of his palm on her clit, forcing Alivia to push against him, riding his hand. Knuckling her panties to one side, he pushed his index finger deep into her heat, his mouth skating down to nuzzle her breasts through the thin material of her dress. “Feel good?” He nipped at her mouth as he pumped the thick digit in and out. In and out.
“Yes!” she whimpered, the sexy sound causing his balls to become so heavy they ached. Snagging her wrists, he raised them above her head and held them against the door. She arched her back, thrusting her breasts out to gain his attention. “Touch me, please.”
Using his teeth, he pulled on one of the spaghetti straps, grunting in satisfaction when the bodice of her dress fell to her waist, revealing a dainty, lacy bra that provided only a minimum challenge to his considerable talents. Bending lower, he caught the top edge of one cup in his teeth, tugging it down until a round, perfect globe popped out. “You are one beautiful woman, Alivia.” He repeated the process on the other side, smiling with lusty satisfaction when she was exposed for his pleasure. “Fuck, you’re sexy.” His throbbing dick strained against his zipper.
She took a deep breath, lifting her aroused, pointed tits toward his face. “I’ve been aching for you,” she whimpered as she moved her knee up and down the side of his thigh.
“You don’t have to ache. I’m here.” Leaning forward, he sucked one stiff peak into his mouth. When she groaned in relief, he snarled, sucking even harder, making her cry out his name.
“Saxon!” Her cry only urged him on, as he moved to the other nipple, covering it with his hot mouth, tonguing the swollen nub until she thought she’d climax from this alone. She grasped his head, twisting her fingers into his hair. “Kiss me. God, I want you so much, I don’t know where I need you most.”
“I wish I had two mouths, four pairs of hands.” He bit at her mouth, crushing their lips together, the kiss escalating from pleasurable to desperate. Her naked breasts rubbed against his chest as his tongue drove deep – long, hot slides against hers that only caused his cock to grow thicker. “Why did you have to be so sexy?” he groaned as he twisted his hand in her panties and ripped them in two. “Why can’t I get you out of my head?”
In addition to her craving Saxon like air, now she felt a twinge of hurt. She wasn’t the only one who would wish away this feeling if she could. Saxon didn’t want to want her any more than she wanted to want him.
Lord, that was a lot of want.
His kisses were sweet torture – bruising, heart-crushing – she reeled over the way he w
as making her feel. Possessed. Wanted. None of it real, yet all of it desirable. “Let’s try, shall we? Let’s satiate this need so we can get on with our lives.”
Her hands trembled as she unfastened the fly of his jeans, lowering the zipper. She salivated, unable to get her hands on his erection fast enough to satisfy her need. He moaned as she found his considerable length, and began to stroke. As she rubbed the thick, ruddy shaft, his hips jerked, and her sex tightened rhythmically, so empty and needy. Anytime her mind had wandered to Saxon, remembering how it had felt to be filled by him, the traitorous place between her thighs had reminded her what she was missing. Alivia luxuriated in the feel of him in her hand, pumping his flesh, tight and slow, getting off on the way his eyes closed and the way he bit his lower lip. Now, it was her turn to ask, “Feel good?”
“Oh, hell yes.”
“How about this?” She raised her leg and hooked it around his hip, guiding his hard cock between her legs and dragging the tip through her slit, coating it in her cream. With a harsh breath, Saxon picked up her other leg and drew it up around his hips as she fit his arousal to her eager opening.
“Oh, fuck, yea,” he whispered harshly as he pinned her with a forceful slam, jarring the wall of his office as he began an almost violent pounding of his throbbing cock into her already contracting pussy. “I haven’t been able to get you out of my head.”
Alivia tugged on his hair as she held his head to her jiggling breasts, her eyes closing in ecstasy as he suckled on her breasts savagely, his hips bucking faster and faster, impaling Alivia, one hand cupping her hip as he ground her on his erection. The perfection of his hardness in her body swamped Alivia with pure bliss, which rose into a crest to sweep over her, making her tremble and jerk as she moved herself up and down on the thick perch of his cock.
Brushing the collar of his hoodie aside, she sank her teeth into the thick muscle of his shoulder. “Fuck me, Saxon. Fuck me so hard we don’t think of one another anymore.” Trying to push them both over the precipice, she contracted the most intimate part of herself around him, over and over again, while he hammered into her with the full weight of his body.
