“Why? You don’t want me to carry you?”
“I’m afraid you’re going to dunk me!”
“Why? Because you’ve been dunking me all week?” She screamed with laughter as I dropped her in the water, and was still laughing when she came up. The dress was plastered to her body. My stomach did a slow flip-flop, and the inside of my mouth felt dry all of a sudden.
“Are you okay? Not like I should care,” she giggled.
“Yeah. I’m okay.” I wasn’t laughing when I took her in my arms and kissed her again, and there was no room for doubt in my kiss as to just what was on my mind. Her tits strained against the top of the stress and her nipples stood out in hard peaks, just begging for me to lick the salt water from them before sucking until she screamed. She pressed her body against me, melting into me, running her hands all over my shoulders and back, then down below the water’s surface.
“Should we be doing this out here?” she whispered between kisses, then sighed as I tasted the saltiness of her throat.
“Who cares?”
“I care,” she whispered back. “There are people everywhere.”
“Not on the beach. Not right now. Besides, we’re covered.” I slid my hands over her waist, then down below the water and under the dress. She gasped, leaning against me, pressing her mouth to my shoulder to quiet her soft cries while my fingers explored her cleft and made contact with her clit. Her heart raced, her breathing grew ragged and uneven, her nails dug into my shoulders as I played with her.
“You’re so fucking sexy,” I whispered in her ear while she rocked her hips against my hand. “I wanna make you come so hard. Come for me, baby.”
“Oh, my God!” She stiffened, then shuddered, as her thighs tightened around my hand. I waited until she relaxed before planting a kiss against her forehead.
“Jesus,” she gasped. “That was new.”
“I can show you all kinds of new things up in your room, if you want.” I was hard as a rock and not going down any time soon. The gleam in her eyes told me she was a fan of the idea. A few minutes later, we were closing the door behind us and fumbling to strip down in between kisses.
“I need a shower after that dunking,” she giggled, leading me to the bathroom. We got dirty in the shower before cleaning off, then got dirty again in bed until we both passed out from exhaustion. I thought I was in shape, too, but she was proving me wrong. Well, it was the most enjoyable workout I’d ever had.
Chapter Ten – Pax
“I wish we didn’t have to go back. Is that bad?”
I shook my head with a smile, sitting beside her on the plane as we landed at JFK. It was a rueful smile, because I felt the same way. “It’s always like that at the end of a vacation.”
She shook her head. “When you first showed up on that beach, I was just thinking about how much I wanted to go home. Remember? I’m no good at relaxing.”
“Well, that explains it.” I ran a hand over her thigh. “You weren’t relaxing after I got there.”
She giggled, and her cheeks flushed. “No, that’s for sure. I think I need a vacation from my vacation now.”
“Same here. But I wouldn’t mind bringing the vacation home, if you know what I mean.” I couldn’t believe the words coming out of my mouth. I was like a teenager. Horny as hell, lighthearted, completely not myself. She brought out something in me that had been gone for such a long time. I could never repay her for that if I tried for a million years.
It was raining when we landed, always so much fun after coming back from paradise. And it was cold, too, another shock to the system. “Aw, remember when we were swimming in the ocean this morning before we left the resort?” Christa groaned as we stepped out of the airport to hail a taxi.
“Yeah. Remember sitting on the beach with our drinks and getting tan?”
“Please. Don’t remind me.” I lifted the bags into the trunk and opened the door so she could dash into the cab without getting too wet. Good thing we both had jackets with us, although coats might have been a better bet. It was mid-December, after all.
“What do you usually do for Christmas?” I asked, as we rode past dozens of displays in store windows.
“Oh, jeez. Christmas. I knew there was a reason I shouldn’t have taken a vacation at this time of year. I’m totally unprepared!”
“I don’t usually do my shopping until Christmas Eve anyway, so…” I shrugged.
“You do?” She sounded scandalized, like I had just admitted that I enjoyed eating dogs and cats. “Oh, no way. It’s an entire season. It’s something to savor.”
“So you savor it.”
“I look forward to it all year long. I have so much catching up to do now,” she fretted.
“I was only asking because I thought maybe you would like to have dinner with me—your mom, too,” I added. “I know it sounds crazy and maybe it’s too soon for us to talk about things like this, but I usually spend Christmas Eve with Lizzie, so that leaves me open Christmas night.”
She smiled shyly. “You want us to have Christmas dinner together? That’s…that’s huge.”
“So you accept?”
“Of course. I was just going to cook something for Mom and me at her house, but I could easily expand the menu for a third person.” She took my hand, and we held hands like that the rest of the way to the office. I needed to stop off and check on things—it was like a compulsion. She wanted to check her mail, too, since all our agents had it delivered to the office.
It was empty except for the surveillance team in the basement. I held my finger to my lips as we walked through, and she barely managed to stifle a giggle. “You realize they can see the cameras out here, right?”
“Shh. Don’t ruin it for me.”
“Ruin what?”
I had already forgotten all about the mail. “I never got the chance to sneak into the house and be naughty when I was a teenager. What about you?”
“Are you freaking kidding me? I lived with a cop. Even if I had the nerve to try it, all the boys I knew were too afraid of Dad to step foot inside the house.” We were both laughing as I led her to my office. There was a ton of stuff on the desk—files, envelopes, the whole nine yards. I didn’t care about any of it.
The second the door was closed, I was reaching for her. I cupped her ass, picked her up and sat her on the desk.
“What do you think you’re doing, sir?” she giggled while she slid out of her jacket. I tossed it on the couch along with mine.
“What do you think?” I took her hips and pulled her to me until my cock ground against her pussy. She groaned, breathless already, pulling me down for a kiss. She worked at the buttons on her sweater, then unbuttoned my jeans while I ran my hands over her. It was still a thrill, like the first time, seeing and touching her. I unhooked her bra and took her tits in my hands, fondling, brushing my thumbs over her nipples and feeling the way they stiffened almost immediately. So firm, so full. She almost growled, wrapping her legs around me while I eased her back across the surface of the desk. She shoved papers and files out of the way as she went, and I didn’t stop her. Nobody would believe it if they saw it—Paxton Lewis, ignoring work.
“Yes…” she whispered, holding my head in place as I licked and sucked her luscious tits. They were so perfect, just like the rest of her. I could have kissed and licked her all day, just for the thrill of tasting her and hearing the way she responded.
I pulled her jeans over her legs and dropped them on the floor, then used the opportunity to grind against her panties. She was already wet, soaking through the satin between her thighs, hot and ready for me.
She pushed herself up on her elbows, pressing her hot mound against my stiff cock. I was so hard it almost hurt. Her hips sped up, grinding, driving us both crazy.
Then she sat up to run her hands over my arms and shoulders, raking her nails across my skin as she did. I drew my breath in a hiss, which made her smile before she licked a trail down my chest. I groaned, still grinding, still hard, still str
aining for her.
When I was ready, I waited a moment before driving myself into her. She looked up at me with so much trust, it almost broke my heart. I hoped I could always be good enough for her. She was one of the special ones. She was the kind of woman who would give up her life to take care of a sick parent. She still cried when she talked about her father’s death, even though so much time had passed, and she still sounded proud of him when she talked about his accomplishments. She wanted me. She wanted us. That was worth more than anything. I couldn’t believe she thought I was up to the challenge of taking care of her and making her happy, always, but it seemed that was how she felt. I decided it was all right to have as much faith in me as she did.
Then I pushed forward. She gasped and threw her head back, mouth open. It took everything I had to keep from roaring in triumph as I took her—only the people downstairs made me hold back the cries building deep inside. She matched my thrusts, hungry for me the way I was hungry for her. Our eyes locked together. I fucked her slowly, achingly slow, wanting to savor the moment even though it wasn’t the most romantic one ever. But it meant the most, even more than all the times in Jamaica, because it proved to me that Jamaica wasn’t just a fluke. We were the real thing. I wanted to love this woman.
She sat up with her arms and legs wrapped around me, thrusting her tongue into my mouth in time with the thrusts into her pussy. She tightened around me and clawed my shoulders as she came with a quiet little sigh, shivering when she was finished.
I sped up then, giving into what my body needed, taking her hard and fast until she leaned back on her hands to hold herself up and let me watch her tits bounce up and down in time. It was mesmerizing, just like everything else about her.
“That’s right…fuck me hard, baby…” My balls exploded moments later, and I had to bite the side of my tongue to keep from groaning loud enough for everyone to hear me. She was kissing me softly when I came back to reality, stroking me from the back of my neck to the base of my spine and back up again, over and over. I slid out of her and let myself recover for a minute in her arms. It was so right. The sort of thing I could do every day for the rest of my life, if she would let me. I had the feeling she would.
My cell rang. We both gasped, then laughed at ourselves. “We need to stop feeling so guilty,” I said with a laugh.
“You’re the one who said it was like sneaking into the house without our parents knowing,” she reminded me. “Sorry if I went along with the fantasy.”
I was chuckling when I found the phone in my jeans pocket, but the chuckle died when I saw who was calling.
“Who is it?” she asked when she saw my expression.
“Ricardo,” I said. Suddenly my heart picked up speed again. Why would he be calling me when I wasn’t supposed to be in the office until the next morning? We never exactly exchanged personal calls, especially at ten-thirty at night.
“Pax?” His voice was strained. “Something happened.”
Chapter Eleven – Christa
It was like something out of a nightmare—racing through rain-slick streets, my heart in my throat, my thoughts on Pax and what he must be going through. He was silent. I didn’t dare say a word for fear of breaking his concentration and getting us killed. Whenever the lights from the street hit his face, I caught a glimpse of the tight jaw. He was gritting his teeth hard, and his knuckles were white. I longed to reach out for him but had the feeling I was in the car with an animal who was barely hanging onto himself.
It didn’t get better when we reached the scene. Red and blue lights flashed, bouncing off the police cars, the buildings, everything. We skidded to a stop and jumped out of the car—Pax was in front of me, sprinting over to the police tape almost before the car was in park. I tried to follow, elbowing my way through the crowd of whispering onlookers, begging Pax to wait for me. He didn’t—I was fairly sure he didn’t even hear me.
Ricardo turned at the sound of my voice and saw Pax barreling toward him and that tape, and the car behind it. He caught him just before he could duck beneath it.
“No!” he screamed, holding Pax back. “You don’t want to see!”
“Where is she? Is that her? Is it her?” Pax’s howls tore through my soul. He sounded unhinged. I thought again of an animal, only this time it was wounded. He pushed at Ricardo to the point where he almost knocked him to the ground, and two other detectives swooped in to help.
“Paxton, you have to stay here.” Ricardo took him by the collar of his jacket. “You shouldn’t see this. Please, man. Just don’t.”
“Tell me! Who’s in that car?” I looked over in the direction of the Altima, which sat there with both front doors open. Cops milled around it. I saw the stricken looks on their faces and knew that whatever was inside had to be terrible to get that sort of reaction.
Ricardo’s head sagged a little. “It’s Suzanne, and a man we’ve identified as Dennis Doherty.”
Pax let out a roar that went straight to my heart and brought tears to my eyes. In a burst of strength that I guessed took everyone by surprise, he pushed past the men and forced his way to the car. I dashed after him, not thinking, not wanting anything but to stop him before it was too late. I wasn’t fast enough.
The scene in the car was enough to turn my stomach. I couldn’t fathom what it did to Pax. Denny was in the driver’s seat, slumped to the right. The left side of his head was gone, blown clear off. Suzanne was next to him, on top of him. The top of her head was gone, along with most of her right hand. I could imagine what must’ve happened—the shooter took him first, she threw herself on top of him and held a hand up to shield herself. It was no use.
I could just make out her face through clumps of bloody hair hanging in front of it. She looked surprised, even in death. Her green-blue eyes were wide open. They reminded me of the water in Jamaica. Bizarre, the things that will pop up in a moment like that. I was shaking, sobbing, but my thoughts were in all different places. Was that what happened when people went into shock? I never used to get that way—I had seen people blown to bits by bombs in the streets but I always kept a clear head. Maybe because it was never personal before.
Pax didn’t move. He only stood there, staring. He looked like a shell. The light was gone from his eyes. I touched his arm—his jacket was soaked from the rain. I had almost forgotten the rain. It ran down the back of my neck, dripping from my hair.
A thought sparked in my panicked brain. “Lizzie.”
His head snapped around. “Lizzie?” We both looked, but the back seat was empty. My heart left the vicinity of my throat. She wasn’t there. Thank God.
Except her backpack was. It sat on the floor.
I took a step back. Pax took a step forward. “Where is she?” He looked around. “Is she here? Did you get her out?”
Ricardo joined us, shaking his head. “She wasn’t in the car. We don’t know where she is.”
“What?” Pax turned in circles, holding his head in his hands. I had the feeling I was falling, falling. My stomach got that funny sensation like I was on a roller coaster flying down a deep incline.
“Pax, calm down. Maybe she got out of the car and is hiding somewhere.” I was desperate, reaching for answers. “I would get out of the car, too. That has to be it.”
Only Ricardo caught my eye and shook his head. So they hadn’t found her anywhere around. Pax didn’t notice. He was too busy losing his mind. “Lizzie!” he screamed, over and over.
“I don’t think she’s out here,” Ricardo tried to explain. “We’ve been looking but haven’t found anything.”
“The apartment! Is she home? Maybe with a friend? I’ll call her cell.” He pried his phone from the pocket of his jeans.
“We checked the apartment—it’s empty. Try giving her a call.” Meanwhile, one of the cops brought over a big golf umbrella that kept the three of us relatively dry as we huddled around the phone. Pax dialed with shaking fingers and turned on the speaker. I held my breath and prayed harder than I eve
r had in my life. Please, answer. Please pick up. Please be okay. Please, please.
When we heard the click of the call being picked up, the three of us jumped a little. “Baby! Baby, it’s me! It’s Daddy!” Pax shouted.
Silence. Then, a chuckle. That sound sent shivers down my spine and turned the water dripping over my skin to ice. I covered my mouth with my hands to hold back the whimpers threatening to bubble up.
Ricardo took Pax’s arm in a vice grip. I could see the way his fingers dug into the jacket.
“Who is this?” Pax’s voice was deadly calm. Dangerous.
“Who do you think, Daddy?” A man’s voice. Nasty, sarcastic, evil. I looked at the two men standing near me. They looked at each other. There was so much in their eyes—understanding, horror, rage. I, on the other hand, felt completely lost.
Pax swallowed hard. His body shook, his hand closed tighter around the phone. “Where are you, Jonathon?”
“Where you won’t find me so easy this time, Detective. Or should I say…us?” He chuckled again, louder this time.
“Where’s my little girl, you sick fuck?”
“Now, now. Language.” He tsked, then chuckled again. He was having fun. He enjoyed knowing he was tearing Pax apart. I finally understood that it wasn’t an exaggeration—he was truly a monster. He killed Suzanne and her fiancé and was holding Lizzie—if she was still alive. And all he could do was laugh at Pax. He had been laughing at him all along. I was finally starting to understand.
“Let me hear her!” Pax shouted.
“You don’t call the shots, Paxton Lewis. Figure that out right now. You’ll hear her. Soon enough.” His voice was chilling. I was listening to true evil.
The call ended. Pax stared down at his phone like he had never seen it before. Ricardo muttered in Spanish—I didn’t understand the words, but I could guess what he was saying from the way he sounded.
“He’s got my kid. That sick bastard has my kid. It’s what he wanted all this time.” Pax’s eyes closed and he swayed on his feet like he was punch drunk, like he was about to hit the ground and maybe stay down. “He wanted her. He waited for the chance to get his hands on her and he took it. He’s been planning this, plotting all this time.”
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