by Tia Louise
Wrapping a dark curl around my finger, the tension slowly drains from my body. Being with her is enough. She’s home and comfort and warmth and all the good things I thought I’d never have again. She’s my future and my desire and my love, and the notion that some dickwad might try to hurt this woman, might threaten what I cherish…
She sighs and scoots closer to me, still asleep. The idea that she knows I’m here is incredibly satisfying. My own eyes are heavy, and I lower my head.
In three breaths, I’m out.
It’s dark, and I sense his presence. He’s hiding like the coward he is, waiting for me to let my guard down so he can strike, so he can try to hurt her again.
Sensations of being back in battle engage my reflexes. I can’t see the enemy, but that doesn’t mean he can’t see me. I have to move forward, keeping the one I’m charged to protect covered by my side.
A noise, and I know where he is. My fists are clenched. This time I’m not sure I’ll have the presence of mind to stop until he’s eliminated. Permanently.
Energy is building in my core, preparing for a fight… And the scene changes.
Softest velvet touches my skin. Whispers like a butterfly’s wings feather over my cheeks and the sensation moves to my brow. Now it’s on my temple, causing my eyes to blink open.
I’m in Melissa’s pale green room. Sloan’s gone, and the butterfly wings are her hair falling in my face as her delicate lips cover me with kisses.
One swift movement, and she’s on her back with a shriek and a laugh. I want to cover her mouth with mine, but first I’d like to swish with some water—or preferably mouthwash. Instead I opt for devouring her slim neck.
Her fingers thread into the sides of my hair. “What time did you get in?” Her voice is breathy and high, as I follow a trail with my lips along her collarbone.
“Just before six. I tried not to wake you.” My mouth is moving up into her hair, behind her ear. She smells like roses mixed with the ocean, and I inhale deeply as she makes one of those little noises I love.
“Patrick said he almost batted you into next week.” A laugh moves through her torso.
“He did a fantastic job.” I kiss her jaw, pulling little bits of skin between my teeth, tasting her. She’s delicious. “I’m giving him a bonus. Something major. A Rolex.”
She’s squirming, trying to catch my lips with hers, and I lift up long enough to grab the water bottle and take a quick hit, swishing it around and then diving back into her arms. She pushes my shoulders, flipping me onto my back and straddling my waist as she forces my lips apart, finding my tongue.
She’s wearing a skirt, and the way she’s sitting, I can tell she’s not wearing panties. Fuck me. Her heat is flush on my bare stomach, and between that, her hands in my hair, and her mouth moving mine, my morning wood has turned into a full-fledged tree—one of those giant redwoods.
“You’re overdressed.” I pull up the sweater she’s wearing, and my brow collapses with appreciation when I discover she’s also braless.
Her breasts are firm and round and a few sizes bigger these days. Gorgeous.
Holding them, I massage my thumbs over the dark circles before pulling a beaded nipple into my mouth. She lets out a moan, and the chances are great I’ll last about as long as a teenage boy once I’m inside her.
Melissa is not helping the situation. She slides down my stomach and jerks my boxer briefs to my hips. The beast is unleashed, and she covers it with that hot velvet mouth.
“Fuck.” I arch back and try to think of baseball. Cold showers. House fires…
Her small hand pumping my shaft. Warm lips caressing my tip then moving lower, followed by the slow sweep of her tongue. Shit.
In a move fast enough to rival Superman, I catch her under the arms and pull her up and over. I’m inside, sinking deep into her slippery-wet body, in less than two seconds.
“Derek!” She cries and holds on, but I can’t stop.
She’s lying on her back, but I’m on my knees leaning into her, needing to be as deep inside her as possible. Her moans drive me crazy as I grip her ass, pulling her against me. Harder, faster… My stomach tightens as the explosion builds. A ragged groan scrapes my throat as the orgasm blazes through me, shaking me to the core. It’s so good, I have to hold her a few moments to recover.
Releasing my grip on her backside, I lean on the headboard as I catch my breath. These last several weeks, I’ve been doing my best to avoid putting pressure on her abdomen, where the baby is, but she’s crawling up, lips following the lines on my stomach, kissing her way up my chest until she wraps her arms around my neck.
“You’re so sexy when you let go.” Her voice is a husky whisper, and when I open my eyes, her beautiful mouth is inches from mine. I can’t resist kissing it.
“You didn’t finish. I’m sorry.”
Her blue eyes narrow, making her look even more like the sex kitten she is right now. “I guess you have to make it up to me then.”
I manage a weak laugh. “You might have to give me a minute.”
She makes a teasing pout that melts into a smile she presses against my lips. Her breasts touch my chest, and it’s possible I might have a little something left.
My hands roam down her sides, exploring her curves. She’s still up, but I move lower, kissing the sexy crease at the bottom of one breast, inhaling the scent of her body. Fresh-air flowers.
“Mmm…” The vibration of her voice moves through her torso as I kiss her skin. My fingers go between her legs, my thumb circling the tiny bud while my middle fingers push inside her. She moans again, and her hips rock as she rides my hand. I catch her up with a few practiced movements.
Her eyes are closed as she savors the sensations. Her nipples bounce near my chin, so I pull one into my mouth, which earns me another little cry.
“Derek, oh…” Her sighing my name like that is enough to get my semi all the way to ready, and I lie back, pulling her onto my lap so she can ride it out.
Her hips buck against mine as her hair swishes around her waist, and I’m glad I got the edge off because I wouldn’t miss this sight for the world. Her gorgeous body is like a goddess rising above me, sexy and full of life. I’m holding back now, enjoying the beauty of her ecstasy. She’s mine to cherish and to love and to protect, and if my past has taught me anything, it’s how to do that.
Her insides are pulling me, massaging and milking, and now my own instincts kick in. I catch her waist, rocking my hips against her.
“Yes… oh, shit!” She wails, shoulders shuddering with my thrusts, and with a groan, I let go.
It’s pure bliss the second time I come. One last push, and she collapses in my arms, a broad smile on her face. Her cheek is on my shoulder and she starts to giggle.
“What?” Smoothing back her hair, I smile as her blue eyes blink open.
“That was incredible.” Then she laughs again. “I’m such a stereotype. The horny pregnant lady.”
Kissing her eyes and face, I hug her close against me. “You’re not a stereotype. You’re amazingly sexy and everything I want.”
She stretches up and kisses my nose. “I thought I’d have to wait a while after that first round.”
“No way.” My hand is cupping her breast, my thumb circling her nipple. “I can’t have my lady frustrated.”
“Thank you.” Then she giggles again, sitting back and wrapping the sheet around her body, eyes sparkling. “Saying that makes me think of our first time. I was sure I’d gone crazy being with a complete stranger like that. And then you thanked me.”
She covers her eyes and laughs again. I love seeing her so happy.
“You have no idea what a game-changing moment that was for me. It was pretty major.” My thoughts go back to the reason for that encounter and the reason I’m here with her now, and my tone grows serious. “You were always safe with me. I’m sure you sensed it even then.”
Another laugh and she shakes her head, dropping her chin. “I’m pretty su
re the only thing I sensed was how incredibly sexy you are.”
Catching that chin, I rub my thumb over her soft skin. “I should’ve done better research before agreeing to help him.”
“Stop.” Her hand covers mine, pulling it down and threading our fingers. “We’ve covered that. And anyway, if you had done better research, you probably would’ve turned him down, and we’d have never met. It was ultimately for the best.”
I can’t argue with that.
“Now,” she continues. “Since we’ve caught up physically—”
“I wouldn’t be so sure—”
She dodges my attempt to pull her to me again. “Tell me why I’ve had house guests all week. Why you’re here early. It’s about my ex-husband, isn’t it?”
Her attempt at being bossy is adorable. “What makes you think that?”
“Patrick is a terrible liar.”
“There goes his Rolex.”
I start to get up, but she catches my arm and holds me. “Tell me what’s going on.”
Her blue eyes are serious, and I sit back against the headboard again. “Okay, yes. It’s about Sloan, and this time I’m not giving up until he’s behind bars.”
Or in hell, I mentally add.
Anger or frustration—it’s hard to tell which—flashes across her face. “I told you I wanted to put the past behind us.”
“I’d be happy to do that if he weren’t still a threat.”
“What threat?” Her voice goes high. “He’s back in Baltimore. He wouldn’t dare touch me. Sloan’s pretty sick, but he’s not stupid enough to cross you.”
“I wish I could agree, but I’ve seen too many cases like this. I know how they go.”
She tries to leave the bed, but I catch her and bring her back. “You have to trust me on this, Mel.”
“You mean I have to live in fear all the time, looking over my shoulder? I won’t do it. I can’t.”
“I’m not asking you to live in fear.”
“And I won’t have you jeopardizing our future by doing something potentially illegal just to… what? Get revenge?”
My lips tighten at her words. I know she’s saying these things because she wants to convince me, but she’s only partially informed. Reaching up, I rest my palm on the side of her face and run my thumb lightly over her scar.
“Every time I see this, I want to kill him. I know exactly how I’ll do it, too.”
She reaches up to take my hand and fold it in both of hers. “My scar reminds me of how strong I am. What I can survive.”
A familiar anger tightens in my chest that she would even need a physical reminder of such a thing.
“I wish I’d never shown you that picture.” Her voice is quiet as she traces her fingertip over the back of my hand. “It was unfair, and now you can never un-see it.”
“Jessica Black is dead.”
Her body goes still. For a moment I’m not sure if she’s breathing.
“Mel?”
Now when her eyes travel up to mine, they’re worried. “How…”
“I don’t know, but I have a hunch.”
Blinking quickly, her head moves side to side as she’s processing what I’m not saying. “He didn’t… he wouldn’t…” She squeezes her blue eyes closed, and I’m worried she’ll cry. She doesn’t. Instead when she opens her eyes this time acceptance is in her voice. “But why?”
“Have you ever seen a picture of her?”
“I never saw pictures of any of them.”
“I’d be willing to bet they all have a similar look, and it’s long, dark waves, petite with fair skin.”
She’s off the bed now, scooping up my shirt and wrapping it around her body. Her arms are crossed over her midsection, and she’s pacing the room still shaking her head. “No. He’s an abusive, controlling son of a bitch, but he’s not a murderer.”
Picking up my jeans, I quickly step in and pull them up my hips before crossing the room to pull her into my arms. “You say that, but you didn’t believe he’d hurt you either.”
I feel the tremors moving through her, and I hug her tighter against my chest. “Shh… I’m here now, and I’m not leaving until he’s no longer a threat to you. Or the baby.”
Another shiver moves through her, but she’s fighting it. “Do you have some reason to believe he’s responsible? The girl was a hooker. She lived a dangerous life. She could’ve been killed for any number of reasons.”
“She was living in Baltimore. She’d moved there a year ago, and it appears she was one of Sloan’s regulars. It’s probably why he got careless, and you found out.”
“That’s a big leap with no evidence.”
“Police records have a mug shot of her beaten. It’s what caught my attention in the first place. The image looks… very similar to what you showed me.”
“Oh, god.” She covers her face with her hands.
Guiding her back to the bed, we sit on the foot. I pull her onto my lap and wrap my arms around her, preparing to hold her for as long as she needs. Not surprisingly, it isn’t very long.
She pushes back and seems to shake herself. Standing again, I see her find that strength I know is inside her. It’s amazing to watch.
“Fuck him.” Her voice is calm. “Let Sloan Reynolds try to come here. I have a Louisville slugger for that very purpose.”
Grinning, now I’m the one shaking his head. “I love you so much, and there is no fucking way I’ll let you be a sitting duck out here.”
She stops moving and faces me, hands on hips. “So you have a plan? Patrick’s in on it?”
“Yeah. I’m heading to Raleigh with him to meet someone he says will help us.”
“Toni Durango. You’re hiring a hooker.”
“He really lost that Rolex this time.”
“I saw the name on his phone. He told me what she does.”
Standing, I cross to where she is and put my hands on the tops of both her shoulders. “I don’t know what Sloan might do, but at this point, I’m willing to consider any possibility. After last week, I was willing to hire someone to take care of him for me—”
“Don’t let him win.” Her eyes are round and serious. “If he took you away from me, I’d have lost something I can’t live without.”
“Enter Patrick, our man with the plan.”
“And his friendly call girl.”
A little groan rises in my throat. “I’ll let you know how it goes. I haven’t committed to anything yet.”
Chapter 5: American Muscle
Derek
The Skinniflute saloon is about the type of dive I’d expect from a Patrick source. A wood-paneled biker joint with perforated steel plates on the lower half each exterior, the only windows are small and near the ceiling, and the dark interior is lit by single-bulbs hanging over the small booths lining the walls. Fluorescent lights and neon beer signs add illumination behind the bar in the center of the room.
As instructed, I’m wearing dark jeans, boots, and an inconspicuous black tee and leather jacket. Patrick’s in a similar getup, but he’s added a bandanna tied over his light brown hair.
“Should I be expecting a fight?” I quip as we slide into the wooden booth to wait for Toni.
“Hell, no. These guys are pretty mellow. Didn’t even look up last time I was in here.”
“How often are you in here?”
He shrugs. “Third time.”
A waitress, who resembles Amy Winehouse in hot pants and a tight sweater, appears with a small, round tray. Her dark eyes move quickly from Patrick to do a slow sweep over me. I don’t return her interest.
“Hey, Brian. What can I getcha?”
My eyes cut across the table to my partner’s. “Vodka rocks and this guy will have…”
“Coke is fine. I’m driving.”
Her eyebrows rise, and she spins on her heel before sashaying away. I’m pretty sure her exaggerated hip movements are for our benefit.
When she’s far enough away, I lean forward on the table.
“Brian?”
“First time I was here, I didn’t want Toni to know I was looking for her, so I told Lylah my name was Brian.”
“Lylah?”
“Just go with it.”
We straighten up as she returns to put the drinks in front of us. Patrick puts a twenty on her tray. “Keep an eye on this for me.”
“You got it, babe.”
She saunters off again, and I settle in to wait for our contact. “So you’ve explained the situation to Toni?”
Patrick shrugs. “Only in a roundabout way. I wasn’t sure how much you wanted out there, but she’s willing to help us. She has some bad blood she wasn’t ready to tell me about on Tuesday.”
“Maybe she’ll talk about it now.”
I glance up as another brunette enters the bar. She’s tall and slim and dressed similarly to Lylah. I wonder if it’s the standard uniform for this place.
“Yeah, that’s her.” Patrick follows my gaze, and I see their eyes connect. A slight nod, and she says something to Lylah before heading in our direction.
My lips curl into a frown. “She’s too tall.”
“She likes to wear those stilts.” Sure enough, she’s wearing stripper heels.
“Do you have a shoe fetish or something?”
Patrick gives me The Smile. “Nothing’s hotter than a naked woman in heels.”
Lifting the Coke, I can’t resist a small jab. “Especially when she’s got your dick in her mouth.”
“Nope.” He shakes his head, serious again. “Elaine’s the only woman for me now.”
“You’ve got some incredible good luck, partner.”
“Don’t I know it.” He slides down as Toni approaches the table.
Her eyes graze over me as she takes the spot Patrick’s created, and she returns my frown. “You look like a judgmental asshole.” Her voice is low and smoky.
This is getting worse by the second, and I’m losing interest fast. “And you look like every con artist I’ve ever helped put away.”
“Well,” Patrick laughs, doing his best to salvage things. “This is getting off to a great start. Can I get you a drink?”
She shakes her head. “I’m on the clock. What’s this about, Patrick?”
