Locked in Temptation

by Brenda Jackson

  When she whispered his name again, he lowered his mouth to hers. The kiss they shared was mingled with intense desire. When he finally pulled his mouth away, he began trailing kisses down to her stomach. Then, as if his tongue had a mind of its own, it led the way, licking toward the area between her legs.

  The moment his tongue touched her feminine mound he felt rejuvenated in a way that made his penis throb against the tightness of his jeans. His tongue was in control and once it slid between her feminine folds, it began circling her clitoris several times before it finally dipped deep inside her.

  He tasted her richness and was so entranced by it, he grabbed hold of her thighs and his lips locked on her core. Locked in temptation, he was yielding to a need he couldn’t deny he felt. He began sucking and stroking her gently, aware of her every moan and the way her hands had tightened on his forearms. She was squirming beneath his mouth, moving her body, pushing her hips off the table upward to taunt him to apply even more pressure and encouraging him to delve deeper. With the ravenous hunger he felt in his bones, his tongue worked her clitoris to the point that he could feel it budding in his mouth. Her moans urged him to go deeper still.

  “Stonewall!”

  Her scream seemed to ricochet through the air. His neighbors might not be able to see them but there was no doubt in his mind they had heard that particular scream. But he didn’t care. The only thing he was concentrating on was getting ready to taste the orgasm that he knew was coming.

  It did.

  Her thighs began trembling and her hips started bucking as a climax besieged her. He was tempted to get on the table with her, but wanted her in his bed when he entered her. When he finally lifted his head and looked at her, the satisfied, pleasure-filled gaze she returned made his erection throb that much more. “We will finish this in my bedroom.”

  And then he swept her off the table and into his arms.

  * * *

  “LOOK AT ME, BABY.”

  As Stonewall requested, Joy looked up at him, into a face so handsome it nearly took her breath away. He had brought her to his bedroom and placed her on the massive bed. She had watched him remove all his clothes, appreciating every inch of skin he revealed. The size of him no longer intimidated her like it had that first time. Her body had gotten used to accommodating him with ease. No surprise there given the number of times they’d made love.

  What she always enjoyed most, and what was such a turn-on for her, was watching how he would encase himself in a condom. She wanted to ask him to let her do it sometime.

  And now he wanted her to look at him and she had no problem doing so. “I’m looking at you, Stonewall.”

  The smile that touched his lips made her acutely aware of just how male and powerful he was. “Now I want you to feel me.”

  He said those words the exact moment she felt the head of his manhood stretching her as it eased inside her body. Going deep until he couldn’t go any more. It was such a snug fit that she could feel her muscles automatically tighten around him. Then they began clenching him.

  He leaned down and licked around her lips before grazing his bearded jaw against her ear. He growled low in this throat when he said, “I love it when you do that. Try to pull everything out of me. One day...”

  He stopped short of finishing what he was going to say. One day, what? The thought then suddenly flashed through her mind that he was about to say that one day there wouldn’t be a condom to hold him back. Was that wishful thinking on her part? She was surprised to realize the thought of him shooting off inside her, coating her body with the very essence of him, not only made her core contract, but made intense desire curl within her stomach.

  “And now to finish pampering you.”

  He said the words as he began moving inside her, and she reached out to hold his broad shoulders. The feel of his skin beneath her fingers only made her moan as delicious sensations rippled through her. He was establishing a rhythm for them as he began thrusting in and out of her. Soft and leisurely at first, but now more urgent and hard. She began to twist back and forth beneath him as spurts of pleasure tore through her. Even her toes tingled from the feel of his chest hair against her nipples.

  Everything he was doing to her seemed to be in perfect sync. Her pulse kicked, her sexual energy was revved, and the sensations made her breathing ragged as he continued to thrust in and out of her. And when she knew she couldn’t take any more, thought her body was about to explode, she screamed his name, even louder than she had on the terrace.

  Her body detonated in what felt like a million prisms of ecstasy. She was about to scream his name again when she felt another forceful shudder, at the same time she felt his body jerk and buck. Sexual excitement filled her to the rim as he began stroking inside her with a speed and precision that sent a blaze of desire through her bloodstream. His gaze was transfixed on hers, like it was the end of time. That was crazy but at the moment, logic was being replaced by pleasure to such an extreme that at that moment she was a goner, and in more ways than one.

  * * *

  STONEWALL AWOKE EARLY the next morning when he felt Joy stirring in his arms. He knew it hadn’t been her intention to spend the night, but one lovemaking session led to another, and another, and then another, and the last thing he remembered was them drifting off to sleep in each other’s arms.

  He did recall waking during the night and remembering the dishes hadn’t gotten done, nor had he taken the time to snuff out the candles. But he hadn’t cared. For him the only thing that had mattered was the woman who slept with her cheek resting on his chest, his arms wrapped around her waist and their legs entwined. He had drifted back to sleep thinking he could get used to this.

  “I’ve got to go, Stonewall,” Joy whispered, easing out of his arms. “I need to go home and get ready for work. I have several meetings this morning.”

  He nodded as he released her. “And I have a flight to catch at noon.”

  She looked at him, surprised. And was that disappointment he also saw in her eyes? The same eyes he’d stared into while making love to her last night? “You’re leaving town?”

  “Yes. Striker’s next assignment was out of town to protect some socialite in Boston name Mondae Reddick. She’s been receiving threats from an old boyfriend. I figured since Striker just got back and still considers himself on his honeymoon, I’d do him a favor.”

  “That was nice of you.”

  He reached up and stroked the side of her cheek. “Don’t you think I’m a nice person?”

  “Yes. A socialite?”

  “Yes.”

  “So, how long will you be gone?” she asked, easing off the bed. He watched her look around for her clothes.

  “A week. And your clothes are still out on the terrace.”

  “Oh.”

  Was that her response to the location of her clothes or the fact he’d be gone a week? “Are you going to miss me?”

  She glanced over at him and held his gaze. “Yes, I’m going to miss you, Stonewall.”

  There was something about the way she was looking at him as well as the way she’d said those words that got to him, set something off deep inside him that had nothing to do with lust. Made his heart skip a beat. Several. He eased out of bed and went to her, and without saying a word he lowered his mouth to hers. He didn’t fully understand why he wanted to kiss her lips right off her mouth, literally. All he knew was this kiss was different from any other they’d shared. Why? He wasn’t sure.

  He broke off the kiss and whispered against her moist lips, “And I’m going to miss you, as well.”

  “Umm, what time will you have to miss me? You’re be all wrapped up protecting the socialite.”

  Was that a twinge of jealousy he heard in her voice? He hoped not because there was no reason. She was the only woman he wanted. The only woman he wanted?
When had that happened? “I will have free time. She has to sleep sometime.” He took a step back. “I’ll go get your clothes.”

  He left the room, deciding he needed distance for a minute to rid himself of all those crazy thoughts. He would miss her. She would miss him. But their relationship wasn’t really a relationship. He paused and rubbed his hand down his face. Hell, if they weren’t in a relationship, then what did you call what had been going on between them for the past three weeks? Maybe they needed the separation to determine what they wanted. Or what they didn’t want. After three weeks it was time they decided.

  * * *

  “HELLO, THIS IS ANDERSON.”

  “Hopkins, this is Jerome Post.”

  Anderson swallowed hard. Jerome Post was the top man to Norm Austen.

  He had never met Norm Austen. Few people had. But Anderson had met Jerome Post a number of times, and there was something about the man that made his skin crawl. Post’s job was to make sure things continued to run smoothly and there were no hiccups. That’s why, although he’d told Post about Mandy Clay’s escape and subsequent death, he’d assured the man he had everything under control. He hadn’t provided Post with any details as to how. The man didn’t want details, just results.

  “Mr. Post, what can I do for you?” Anderson asked, determined to sound as calm as he could, although he wasn’t feeling it. He never felt it when talking to this man.

  “You can assure me that all is well with our business on the East Coast.”

  “Of course things are going well. Why wouldn’t they be?” Anderson asked, trying to play off the question.

  “That woman’s death made national news. Her sister is a celebrity. I gather you didn’t know that when she was...selected.”

  No, he hadn’t known. But that didn’t matter. He couldn’t let it matter now. “I told you I had handled everything,” he said, refusing to say whether he’d known or not. “Let me reiterate what I told you before. Everything is running smoothly. Everybody’s doing what they’re supposed to do. I took care of the people responsible for the slipup that allowed the woman to escape. The new people you sent as replacements are working out nicely.”

  “Good. I assured Mr. Austen that you had everything under control. Don’t make a liar out of me, Hopkins.”

  “I won’t.”

  “And I hope there weren’t any loose ends,”

  Anderson swallowed again. “No loose ends.”

  “And you would tell me if there were, right?” Post asked in a threatening tone.

  Anderson felt his skin crawl. “Of course.”

  Post was quiet for a moment, then said, “Seems like a lot of murders in your city lately.” Another pause. “We’ll talk again later.”

  Anderson heard the click in his ear. This was the first time he’d heard from Post in months. Had Post figured out things about Kelly? He was aware that Kelly had been one of their suppliers. She had supplied clients, namely couples who wanted a baby and would pay a lot of money for a surrogate so they could have their own biological child. Most of them thought their surrogacy was legal and well within the confines of the law. Little did the couples know that some were. But most weren’t.

  Like the one Kelly had arranged for his sister.

  Rachel had no idea that he’d had a hand in every single detail of the arrangements. Even the attorney she’d hired had been recommended by him and hadn’t been on the up and up. But Anderson had refused to see his sister unhappy any longer. She and Brett had wanted a baby, and her happiness had meant a lot to him. It meant everything.

  That’s why he had no guilty conscience about Kelly. Had she talked, it would have been detrimental not only to the entire organization but to his sister’s happiness, as well. Rachel’s eggs weren’t viable for the embryo transfer. That meant Chasta was Brett’s biological child, but not hers. It would destroy Rachel if she ever found out that her eggs had not been used. Mandy Clay had been handpicked by him because Mandy and Rachel shared similar features, including the same hair color and shade of blue eyes.

  He had seen Mandy while in New Orleans on a business trip. She and another woman were dining at the same restaurant. Finding out who she was and where she lived had been easy. So had kidnapping her, thanks to a couple of the men in blue from the New Orleans Police Department who were on the Brotherhood’s payroll. Unlike the other women who’d been kidnapped, Mandy had come across as street-smart. He should have known she would cause trouble. As far as he was concerned, she had brought her death on herself and he didn’t feel bad about it.

  Like he’d told Post, everything was going smoothly, and he was determined to make sure things continued that way. He had too much to lose if they didn’t. The police had no reason to think Kelly’s death was anything more than her being at the wrong place at the wrong time. And if they hadn’t discovered anything new about Mandy Clay by now, chances were they wouldn’t. Cases went cold all the time.

  Kelly’s funeral would be held in Charlottesville today. Too bad things had turned out the way they had for her. Too bad.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  JOY APPROACHED HER office with memories of last night and that morning still running through her mind. She’d questioned Stonewall’s stamina only that one time, but she was convinced each time they’d made love he still went out of his way to put that question to rest. The man had more sexual energy than anyone she knew. Not that she was complaining. His night of pampering had been the best she’d ever had.

  She recalled waking up in his arms before dawn this morning and watching him the moment he’d opened his eyes. Those heavy-lidded dark brown eyes had held her within their scope, looking irresistibly drowsy. Just gazing at him, especially that sexy bearded chin, not to mention such a naked and warm body, had turned her on all over again.

  She didn’t have time for one more roll between the sheets since she’d needed to get up and go home, shower and dress for work. But when he’d returned with her clothes and she’d watched him take a bold sniff of her panties before handing them to her, she decided she wanted him to make love to her again regardless of the time. Of course he’d been more than accommodating, and he’d had her screaming out an orgasm in no time.

  He would be gone a week, and if his intent was to leave her with something to think about while he was gone, he’d definitely done that. He had walked her down to her car and kissed the living daylights out of her before she’d left. She had driven all the way home smiling.

  Hell, she was still smiling. When she’d passed several detectives in the hall just now they’d looked at her strangely. Let them look. She now had a life and didn’t mind anyone knowing it. She stopped short upon reaching her office. Did she really have a life?

  How could she when she hadn’t committed to trying a relationship with Stonewall? It had been her choice not to. In fact, she’d reiterated that to him a number of times. Was she thinking about changing her tune? If she was, how would he feel about it if she did? And why did the thought of them becoming a couple have such a strong appeal to her now?

  She continued walking toward her office. She had a week to figure things out. One whole week. But then, as she looked at the files on her desk, she had a lot of detective work to do this week, as well.

  * * *

  JOY WATCHED CHIEF HARKINS. He’d just finished reading her report and was now leaning back in his chair, eyeing her speculatively. He asked, “And you really believe Dr. Kelly Langley was the intended target, and the thieves went to all that trouble to make it seem like a random act?”

  “Yes. I admit I didn’t at first. It seemed like the motive was clear-cut. Namely the prescription drugs since two different pharmacies had been hit the same night and by the same individuals within a five-mile radius. Now I think things were done that way to throw us off. The new ME, Dr. Lennox Roswell, noted several irregularitie
s. Dr. Roswell is good at what she does, by the way.”

  Chief Harkins chuckled. “I hire and promote only the best.” Any amusement left his face when he said, “If what you assume about Dr. Langley is true, Lieutenant, there has to be a real serious motive for someone to go to all that trouble. Find a motive.”

  She stood. “I intend to. She was a divorcée so I’ll start there.”

  “And let’s make sure the media doesn’t get wind of this until we have something concrete. Otherwise they will hound us to death.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Moments later, Joy had returned to her office and was about to sit when her phone rang. It was an interoffice call. “This is Lieutenant Ingram.”

  “Yes, Lieutenant, this is Acklin. We have the search warrant for Dr. Langley’s phone records.”

  * * *

  PSYCHIC INVESTIGATOR RANDI FULLER felt a cold, deathly chill as she glanced around Murphy Erickson’s prison cell. The same cell where he’d been found murdered about six months ago. The two federal agents, including Special Agent Felton, had brought her here. They were all hoping that Erickson would reach out to her, but so far nothing. No surprise, since the one time she and Erickson had met, it had been more like a face-off, a clash of wills. He had gone to his grave disliking her as much as she disliked him.

  Sighing deeply, she turned to Agent Felton. “Sorry, but I don’t feel anything in here. In order for my powers to work, there has to be—”

  Suddenly Randi went still as the sound of a male voice came to her. Had she heard right? Had that one single word been a clue from Erickson?

  “Dr. Fuller? Are you alright?”

  Randi blinked. Two sets of eyes were staring at her. She drew in a deep breath. “Yes. And I think I have something. Video. Erickson just said the word video. I think he wants me to watch the video.”