After they were seated and their drink orders taken, they both perused the menu. “The chateaubriand sounds delicious,” he commented. “So do the lamb chops. What looks good to you?”
“The Chilean seabass. I can’t remember the last time I had that and I love it.”
The waitress returned with their drinks and took their meal orders. A busboy placed a basket of warm rolls and butter on the table before hurrying away again.
Grace took a sip of her wine, and Sean noticed she suddenly seemed as nervous as he was, but as he tried to think of a conversation starter, she beat him to it. “I . . . um . . . how was work today? Did you find out how that reporter got her information?”
“No,” he answered, giving his head a small shake while he buttered a roll. “But at least I got a little revenge and banned her from all the future press conferences about the case.”
She grinned. “Good for you. So what were you planning on doing these next few weeks if you hadn’t gotten called to duty?”
Glad she was steering the conversation away from the murders, Sean swallowed a small bite of his roll. “Well, I was hoping to get caught up on a few books I’ve been wanting to read, do a little fishing, and just relaxing. It’s been a while since I’ve had some serious time off.”
“Fishing? Gee, I haven’t done that since I was about twelve and your uncle invited me along on one of your fishing trips.”
Fishing was one of his fondest memories of Whisper as a kid and teen. His father and Uncle Dan had taught the brothers how to fish as soon as they were old enough. There had been countless trips out on charter boats or just on the beach and piers to fish. It never mattered how much they caught, but there was always a money pool for the biggest fish reeled in. When they were young, it had been a dollar each, but now it ranged anywhere from $20 to $100, depending on everyone’s mood. “Well, then, we’ll have to remedy that. Maybe I can take Saturday or Sunday off if there’s nothing new with the case, and we can go fishing. That is, if you want to.”
“I’d love it. But you’re going to have to teach me all over again. If memory serves me right, last time I kept getting my line all tangled. Your poor uncle spent most of the day getting out the knots for me.”
Sean chuckled as he finally started to relax. “No worries. After a few pointers, I’ll have you tangle free.”
The rest of the evening went smoothly, and the conversation remained clear of the serial killer terrorizing the area. As Sean drove Grace back to her place, he wondered if she was going to invite him in. He wanted her in the worst way, but aside from the few steamy kisses they’d shared, he wasn’t sure if she was ready for more than that. They’d gotten to know each other over the past week as adults, and he felt closer to her than any other woman he’d dated before. Maybe because of their history, but that had been so long ago, they’d almost started from scratch again.
Pulling into a space in front of her unit, he turned off the engine. Whether she was inviting him in or not, he was still walking her to the door. They both climbed out of the car and met on the walkway in front of her place. Holding Grace’s hand in his, he strolled toward her condo. His thumb caressed her soft skin.
As they approached her door, Grace took her keys from her purse. “Would you . . . like to come in?”
Sean stopped and turned to face her. A heavy blush stained her cheeks, and he reached up to stroke her jawline with his fingers. “I would very much like to come in, but I’m not sure I could resist trying to get you into bed. I don’t want to rush you, so it’s probably best if I went home and took a cold shower.”
“Or,” her voice had become huskier, “we could take a hot shower together here, instead.”
Gazing into her eyes, he searched for any uncertainty, but all he saw there was shyness and desire, the combination undoing him. He cupped her chin and gave her a brief kiss before taking her keys from her hand. Unlocking the door, he swung it open and then closed it again after trailing her inside.
Grace flipped a light switch, which turned on the two lamps in her living room, then tossed her purse on a side table. Before she had a chance to step away from him, Sean grabbed her around the waist and pulled her close. Her ass cradled his erection and he couldn’t resist thrusting his hips forward. She stretched her arms back and wrapped them around his head as he nibbled on her neck and exposed shoulder. Her perfume was sweet, sensual, and drove him crazy.
A meow interrupted them and Sean lifted his head to see Rico sitting on the back of the couch, staring at them. He shook his finger at the cat. “Sorry, Rico, but your first night here is not going to be in your mom’s bed. I plan on spending the entire night getting to know every inch of her body. Now, if you’ll excuse us . . .”
Giggling at his inane lecture to her new pet, Grace took his hand and led him to her bedroom, clearly intent on letting him do exactly what he’d just said. Sean shut the bedroom door in case Rico tried to follow them. When Grace’s hands went to the zipper on the back of her dress, he stopped her. “Uh-uh. Let me.” She dropped her hands and watched him over her shoulder. Ever so slowly, he lowered the zipper, his mouth watering at each new inch of exposed skin.
When the zipper couldn’t go any further, he peeled the dress off her shoulders and let it fall into a pool of silk at her feet. She was now standing in nothing but her black, lacy bra, thong panties, and her “come-fuck-me,” high heeled shoes. Yeah, those were going to stay on for a while because her legs looked gorgeous in them.
Pulling her against his chest and groin, he continued what he’d started out in the living room. His lips, tongue, and teeth, respectively, kissed, licked, and nibbled on her shoulders and neck as his hands reached around and cupped her breasts. Grace’s head fell back onto his shoulder and she moaned in pleasure. The sound went straight to his throbbing cock and he ground his pelvis into her ass again.
Her hands went to his hips and held him in place as she gyrated her own. Unable to help himself, Sean bit down hard on the curve of her neck then quickly licked the sting away. His fingers lifted the band of her bra and her breasts dropped free. Spinning her around, he bent forward and drew one of her nipples into his mouth while rolling the other between his thumb and forefinger. He stepped forward, urging her back onto the bed. Before letting her lie down, he unhooked her bra and pulled it down her arms, tossing it to the side.
Shifting from side to side, Grace made her way to the middle of the bed with Sean following, never leaving her breasts as he alternated between them with his mouth and fingers. He felt her trying to get her heels off and lifted his head. “Leave them on, Gracie. You look so sexy in them, I want you in nothing but them.” Grabbing the sides of her thong, he proved his point by sliding it down her legs and throwing it atop her bra.
She removed the clip from her hair, letting it frame her face. Her gaze followed his hands as they undid the buttons of his shirt. His heart beat faster when she played with the rosy peaks of her breasts. Sean quickly got rid of the rest of his clothes and removed a condom from his wallet. Shit! How long it had been there? His worry was gone in a flash as he remembered it was a replacement after a colleague had begged for one after hooking up in a bar they went to occasionally after work in Jacksonville.
Dropping to his knees beside the bed, he pulled her to the edge and placed her legs over his shoulders. One of the heels of her shoes scraped his back and his dick grew even harder. He kissed his way up her inner thighs until his mouth found her bare pussy lips. He sucked on their plumpness then impaled her with his tongue. Grace’s hips bucked, but his hands held her in place as he continued to feast on her. The taste of her feminine spice was heaven. He could stay there and eat her for hours, but not tonight—there was so much more he wanted to do to her. First, he wanted her to cum for him.
His fingers went to her clit and tortured the little bud as he fucked her with his tongue. Grace’s breathing and moaning increased with each second that passed until she was begging for release. “P-please, Sean . . . I n
eed . . . oh my God . . . please!”
The corners of his mouth ticked upward as he picked up the pace. Her orgasm hit her like a tidal wave. Her thighs clenched his head, her heels dug into his back, and her body shook with an intense force as she screamed her release. Rubbing her clit, he thrust the fingers of his other hand into her tight channel and prolonged her pleasure as best he could.
As she floated back to earth, she gasped for air. “Holy shit . . . that . . . that . . .”
Sean chuckled while reaching for the condom. “I’ll take that as meaning I left you speechless, which does wonders for my ego. But the night has just begun. Move back on the bed, sweetheart. Let’s see if I can get another one of those out of you.”
Crawling onto the bed until he hovered over her, he took her mouth with his and their tongues dance together. She sucked on his lips and he realized she was enjoying the taste of herself on him. Her legs wrapped around his hips as he lined his cock up with the slit of her pussy. Her pelvis tilted, silently begging him to enter her. He eased in as her body yielded to him and then he saw stars. Her wet heat drove him to near insanity and he had to force himself not to rut her like a wild animal—at least not this first time.
With each thrust of his hips, he slid further into the tight channel until he was buried to the hilt. Grace’s nails scratched his back, sending a shiver of ecstasy down his spine. He loved being clawed by a woman during sex. Why, he didn’t know, but it was a huge, fucking turn-on for him. And tomorrow he would revel in the marks she left on him.
Rising up on his elbows, he pumped in and out of her while watching her expressions. Her eyes were open but glazed over as she bit her bottom lip. Her groans and gasps urged him on. Reaching down, he tucked his arm under her leg and bent it toward her chest, then shifted his hips to an angle that had them both moaning loudly. The woman was going to be the death of him. “Fuck, baby. You’re so tight, I’m not going to last much longer.”
A tingling started at the base of his spine and he leaned down, gently biting her nipple. As he’d hoped, it sent her flying again. Her walls spasmed around him, and white and black dots flashed before his eyes. Pounding into her, he felt his balls draw up tight, and roared his release. Never in his life had he come so hard or so long. He shook with the impact until he was spent, and it took everything in him not to collapse his full weight onto Grace’s body. Dropping his head to her shoulder, he struggled to get some much needed oxygen to his lungs. “Damn . . . woman . . . and here I thought . . . it would be best . . . if I went home earlier . . . I hate to tell you this, but . . . I may never walk again . . . at least not until tomorrow . . . morning.”
Beneath him, Grace purred like a kitten. “Well, you won’t hear me complaining. Consider yourself invited to stay for the rest of the night, as long as we can do that again at some point.”
Lifting his head, he smirked at her. “Oh, we will. Scouts honor.”
“You were a Boy Scout?”
“Nope,” he said as his smile widened, “but it sounded better than a pinkie-swear.”
* * *
Turning off the ignition of her BMW convertible, Jessica Daly stared at the decrepit tobacco factory. It was on the outskirts of Elizabeth City and had been shut down for close to three decades after the company’s cigarette manufacturing profits were eaten up by the larger, more popular brands. It seemed no one wanted to purchase the three hundred acre property and pay to have the one million-square-foot building demolished—especially since there was really nothing else of value in the area.
Grabbing her oversized purse and the portable video camera she’d brought along, Jessica climbed from the vehicle, then shut and locked the door. It was a few minutes before 11:00 p.m., but the nearly full moon provided plenty of light. There was no other vehicle in sight, but several bay doors where trucks used to enter the building were missing, so someone could easily have driven inside.
To her right, a beam of light skittered across the property toward her. Someone was signaling her from inside the building. Putting the straps of her purse and camera bag over her shoulder, she also made sure her gun was within reach at the small of her back; one could never be too careful. She’d gotten a pistol permit months ago after another street reporter in Virginia and her cameraman were shot and killed on live TV, while conducting an interview.
Making her way across the cracked pavement peppered with weeds and garbage, Jessica scanned the area as she tried not to trip and fall. Thankfully, she’d worn comfortable clothes and shoes that were still appropriate for the camera.
A lone figure stood in an open doorway and pointed his flashlight at her feet. That was nice of him, giving her more light to see by. As she neared the doorway, she took in his appearance. He was a white male, probably in his mid to late thirties, and kind of cute. His brown hair was neatly trimmed, and he wore jeans and a blue, button-down shirt.
He stepped forward and extended his right hand. “Hi, Ms. Daly. The name’s George. Thanks for meeting me. I have to admit, I wasn’t quite sure you’d come.”
Jessica gave him her thousand-watt smile. “And miss out on a great scoop like this, George? Never. Thanks for contacting me, and please call me Jessica.”
The man blushed. “Okay, Jessica it is. Come on inside. I have all the evidence you need to nail this bastard who’s killing all those women.”
Hesitating in the doorway, she surveyed the interior of the building. It appeared this had been a reception area of sorts, but had more recently been used by kids having parties. There were empty beer cans and liquor bottles all over the place, and a couch had been brought in at some point for them to sit on. The stained and ripped fabric had her immediately deciding she wouldn’t be using it at all. The walls were covered with graffiti and holes that looked like they’d been made by a combination of fists, bullets, and who knew what else.
George gestured to the other side of the large room. “Here, I brought a folding table, two chairs, and a camping lantern for us.” After turning on the latter, which lit up the room, he switched off the flashlight and set it down on the table.
“Why are we meeting here? I mean, it is a bit out of the way. Why contact me instead of the police?” While she wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth, she was still curious. And that curiosity was what made her good at her job.
When she stepped over to the table and placed both bags on it, George shrugged, and his expression was one of embarrassment. “Well, truthfully, I didn’t want to be known as the person who turned my brother into the police. My family is quite close and they stick together, even if it’s the wrong thing to do. I’d be ostracized by them if they found out I was the one who gave him up.”
“Your brother is killing these women?” Holy shit, this was going to be an incredible story! Her mind flittered with how she would spin things in her newscast as she absentmindedly began to pull her pen, pad, and camera out of her bag. “Wow. That must be awful for you. How did you find out it was your brother?”
George didn’t immediately answer her and Jessica glanced up at him. Excruciating pain shot through her face as his fist made contact with her cheek, dropping her to the floor. Multi-colored lights flashed before her eyes and bile burned her throat as she came close to vomiting from the shock. Her head spun, and he was on her before she had a chance to recover. She was vaguely aware of him tying her wrists together. Terror and agony coursed through her body, and she had the sudden need to urinate. Shivering, she tried to clear her mind and focus on what was happening. Oh, God! What have you gotten yourself into? Scream! Do something!
But when she opened her mouth, a rag was shoved into it. His brought his face within inches of hers and snarled, “You think I’m a savage? A sadist? A fucking barbarian? Bitch, you have no fucking clue who you’re dealing with. But you will—trust me, before you die, you’ll know exactly who you’re dealing with!”
CHAPTER
15
Arranging the bitch’s body in the sand, Wallace scanned
the secluded stretch of beach once more. It was at the edge of the Pea Island Natural Wildlife Refuge and didn’t get the volume of traffic the rest of the shoreline did, especially in the cooler weather. But in a few hours, there would be a few morning anglers setting up their rods and chairs for some early morning surf fishing, so it shouldn’t be long before his new victim was found.
Killing her had been such a high. She hadn’t been like his usual tramps, and for some reason that had gotten him even more excited. Instead of carving “slut” into her torso, he’d given her the word that described her best—bitch. Her screams still echoed in his ears as he recalled stripping her naked and taking the knife to her skin. Her blood had been warm as it’d flowed from her body.
After she was permanently branded, he’d gotten to the part he loved the most. Taking a scarf, he’d wrapped it around her throat and cut off her windpipe until she’d stopped struggling and breathing. Then he’d performed mouth-to-mouth on her using a plastic shield to avoid any DNA transfer. Each time he revived her, he waited until she was alert enough to struggle again. He continued until he could no longer breathe life back into her, and then let death have her. He’d then stepped back to admire his work and jacked off far enough away from her to, again, avoid getting any of his DNA on her—not that it mattered since his DNA wasn’t on file anywhere to connect it to him.
The earlier full moon was now dimmed by storm clouds passing to the west. He double checked that at full tide her body wouldn’t get washed out to sea, then pulled out a penny from his pants pocket with a gloved hand. Placing it right above the bridge of her nose, between her open, yet unseeing eyes, he completed his masterpiece. Like any artist, he took pride in his work. Maybe one day, after he was long gone from this earth, someone would be able to associate his name with his work. He could give his lawyer a sealed envelope with instructions to only open after his death, but that was too big a risk. He’d have to give it more thought so, someday, the world could admire what a great man he was.
The Devil's Spare Change 2 Malone Brothers Page 13
