“I was under the impression that you were going home to do work this evening,” Jace said.
“Sarah took me out for a couple of after-work drinks because she saw how upset I was.” Carrie cleared her throat. He could hear her heels clacking on the sidewalk, quickly, like she was moving fast. “That’s not important. I saw her, Jace. I saw Madison.”
Jace sat up straight. “You saw her. Where?”
“At a bar.” Carrie paused as another taxi belted in the background. “Listen, I followed her to what I think is her actual apartment building.”
“That was foolish,” Jace said, standing from the couch and squeezing his fist by his side. “You could have been attacked again.”
“She didn’t see me. No one did.” Carrie took a deep breath and continued. “I almost tried talking to her, but then I thought better of it. We don’t need her as your alibi now, but we need to find out what she knows.”
“Where does she live?” He wasn’t sure what he would do with the information, but he had to know.
“Midtown East, down fifty-seventh street and almost to the river. Third floor. Why do you want to know? It’s a bad idea for you to go and talk to her. You should let me do it.”
“I won’t have you going near her,” Jace said in a low voice. “You don’t put yourself in harm’s way like that again.”
“Why the hell did you want me to be your lawyer if you don’t want me to do my job?” Her voice grew louder as the tempo of her heels against concrete increased.
“It’s not your job to interrogate dangerous people,” Jace said, keeping his voice calm, though he was anything but. Carrie had come so close to going into Madison’s apartment. Madison, who had to be involved in this murder. Carrie could have been hurt. She could have been killed. He didn’t know what Madison was capable of, or if she was just a pawn in a bigger game, but he wouldn’t let Carrie find out.
“Well, someone has to do it,” Carrie said, voice still on edge. “And it’s not like we can tell the police about it, since we said nothing about her in your statement.”
“And who’s fault is that? I didn’t ask you to lie and say you’re my alibi, Carrie.”
“You certainly didn’t put up much of an argument!” She was almost yelling now, and it made him want to reach through the phone and pull her into his arms. Everything inside him desired to have her there with him right now, to take all her frustration away. He wanted to carry her into his bed and make her forget all about alibis and girls named Madison and murders. She’d be safe with her legs wrapped around his hips. Safe and his.
“Come over here. Now.”
“What?” she asked in a gasp.
“Come over here right now.”
“Sex can’t be your answer to everything.” The click of her heels faded away, replaced by her breath on the phone.
“Tell me you don’t want me. Tell me you don’t want me to fuck you.”
The only response she gave was silence, her heavy breath the only sound other than the familiar noises of the city in the background. He was giving her one last chance to be his. It was now or never. If she didn’t want him, then so be it. But she had to make a choice.
“Tell me, and I’ll leave you alone.”
“You know I can’t tell you that,” she finally said in a whisper.
“Then get over here and get in my bed,” he said before clicking off the phone. He’d made himself clear. Either she would come to his penthouse and give herself to him or she wouldn’t. His body yearned for her, and she’d just admitted she felt the same. Tonight, he would show Carrie exactly what kind of pleasure he could provide if only she would stop battling against the overwhelming electricity she knew they had, and once he did, she’d never want to leave his bed again.
In the meantime, he had something he needed to take care of.
Carrie found herself in the lobby of The Grand Rizzato, wondering when she’d let lust take over her brain. As soon as her heels sunk into the plush maroon carpet, chandeliers sparkling overhead, the concierge who had delivered their dinner two nights before stepped forward and ushered Carrie upstairs. When they reached the top floor, Carrie expected Jace to be waiting for her, but he was nowhere to be seen.
“He’s just stepped out for a moment, Miss Simmons,” the concierge said. “He said that you should make yourself at home.”
Glancing around at the sleek yet sterile room, Carrie kicked off her heels and settled onto the couch. She couldn’t believe she’d come here. In the heat of the moment, it had seemed like such a good idea. Or, rather, an impossible thing to turn down. She’d ached to feel the spark of his touch, and that desire had carried her all the way uptown.
Now that she was here, alone, doubt tickled the back of her mind. Why hadn’t he waited to see if she would come? Why had he left when he’d been expecting her to come running into his arms?
The door swung open, and Jace stepped inside the penthouse. Her stomach twisted at the sight of him, dark eyes, dark hair, dark suit. Strong and powerful and sharp. His gaze settled on her, lit with that fire that left her weak in the knees. His lips twitched when he saw her on the couch, and he pulled his arm out from behind his back to reveal a small bouquet of roses.
“I knew you’d come.” He took long strides toward the couch and held out the flowers. “These are for you.”
“I thought you weren’t a flowers kind of guy.” Smiling, she took the roses from him and inhaled their sweet scent.
“Sometimes there are exceptions to the rule,” he said with a smile before unbuttoning his jacket and sliding it from his shoulders. He tossed it onto the couch next to her, an ordinary action, but for some reason, it didn’t feel so ordinary to Carrie. Breath caught in her throat, she stood, her bare feet sinking into the carpet.
“Come here,” Jace said. Not a request, a demand. A thrill ran through Carrie’s veins as she walked the length of the couch toward Jace. Before she reached him, he snatched her wrist and pulled her close. She stumbled, falling into his chest, heart thundering in her ears.
“Look up at me,” he said in a soft, low voice.
She did as he commanded, tipping back her head so that she could meet his eyes. They churned with heat, and her breath quickened even more. Every muscle in her body felt impossibly weak.
“Tell me you want this.” Jace tucked a finger under her chin. “Tell me you’re mine.”
“I want this,” she said, barely above a whisper. “I’m yours.”
Everything inside her begged to be touched. Nothing else mattered but Jace. His jaw clenched, and his eyes narrowed, and a second later, he had his hands on her ass while he lifted her from the floor. Carrie gasped and wrapped her thighs around his hips and her arms around his neck.
His lips were on her, kissing, licking, biting. Tongue trailing from her neck to her lips, he slid his hands into her hair and twisted the strands between his fingers. Her head tipped back, and she moaned. Every cell in her body felt as if it were ready to explode. The scent of him overwhelmed her. Musky and strong, a hint of cologne mixed with gin.
Jace carried her across the open penthouse loft, and her thighs tightened around his waist. A groan escaped from his throat, his fingers tightening around her legs. Just as she pulled back to look into his face, Jace reached the wall and pushed her against the cold stone. With one hand still on her ass, he pressed into her, his erection rubbing against her lace thong. An ache began to grow where he touched. She buried her face in his shoulder, so overcome with lust, she could barely breathe.
He let go, still pressing her into the wall while he ripped open her shirt. His eyes flicked over her body, adoring and appreciative of her curves.
“Let me see you,” he said.
Carrie pulled off her shirt, unzipped her skirt, and let the material drop to her toes, so that she was now left with nothing but her lacy bra and thong. Jace had stepped back, his own shirt now a crumpled puddle on the floor. His abs rippled as he moved back in close, the muscles in his
arms tensing as he pushed her hands over her head and whispered into her ear.
“You have been a naughty girl, Carrie.”
A thrill went through her body, and the place between her thighs grew wet. Groaning, she tried to wrap her legs back around him, but he pulled away just in time.
“Not until I say so,” he said, eyes flickering with heat. “Take off your bra and thong.”
Trembling, Carrie unhooked her bra and let it fall to the floor, her nipples going hard when the air hit her breasts. She pushed her thong down her thighs, stepping out of them and leaning back against the wall. Her chest heaved as her breath grew shorter, standing there exposed in front of Jace as he raked his eyes across every inch of her body.
She wanted him. She needed him. If he didn’t take her now, she would scream. But, she knew Jace’s game, and this is how he liked to play. The more she begged, the more he would tease. He was the one in charge here, and the thought of it made her even wetter than she already was.
His hand found her breast, a soft caress until he squeezed tight. She cried out, both in agony and in pleasure, her nipples hard and swollen under his touch. With Jace, it wasn’t just pleasure or pain. It was both. Her screams seemed to excite him as he took off his belt and dropped his suit pants to the floor. His erection bulged in his boxer briefs, tantalizing her, driving the need to have his cock thrusting deep inside her.
He leaned down and teased her nipple with his tongue. She dropped her head against the wall and moaned, reaching out to twist her hands in his hair. Jace laughed, and his breath tickled her hot skin. He pulled back and held her wrists with his fingers, pressing her arms against the wall.
“Eager, are we?” he murmured as he moved his mouth down Carrie’s stomach, pausing once he reached the sex between her thighs. His mouth brushed against her skin, licking her, tasting her, sending shockwaves of pleasure through her trembling body. She gasped and pushed her hands against the slick wall, digging her fingernails into the stone.
“I love the way you taste,” Jace murmured as he moved back up her stomach, leaving her aching for more. He kissed her nipple, kissed her neck, kissed her ear. Reaching his arms around her, he hauled her from the floor and tickled her skin with his tongue.
“Do you want me?” Jace asked. A question this time, not a demand. Carrie opened her eyes and looked into his, spreading her legs as she wrapped her thighs around him. The fire and passion were still there in his expression, but his face held a spark of something else. Something more.
“I’ve never wanted anyone more,” Carrie whispered.
Jace sighed against her, squeezing her thighs with his strong hands. He pushed inside her slowly, inch by exquisite inch. She let go, of all the fear, of all the doubt, of all the pain, allowing herself to enjoy the sensation of being completely his without any other thoughts trying to crowd into the way. After all this time, he still wanted her, and she couldn’t stop herself from giving into what she knew she’d wanted all these years. To finally have him back in her arms, to be as close to him as she possibly could, to let him take control and claim her as his.
She wrapped her arms around his neck as he pushed inside her once again. Her back slid against the wall as he began to thrust harder, but his arms held her tight against his chest. As they wrapped themselves around each other, Carrie felt as if they’d become one body, moving in rhythm as their need for each other increased with each passing beat.
She shook in his arms, pleasure building up inside her. Jace groaned as she tightened around him, and he took her mouth in his as she crested the top, shuddering as her orgasm crashed over her like a wave. Her arms and legs tightened around Jace as he followed in her wake.
Panting, he dropped his head forward against the wall. Carrie went weak, her grip on his shoulders loosening, but he kept a tight hold around her body and didn’t let her fall. He turned away from the wall and carried her across the loft, and she let her head drop onto his shoulder as her eyelids fluttered shut.
For the first time in a long time, Carrie felt as if she were exactly where she needed to be. In Jace’s arms.
The next morning, Carrie awoke to the alluring scent of coffee beans. She twisted on the silk sheets to see she was alone in the bed, but the sound of clanking dishes told her exactly where Jace had gone.
She smiled and pressed her hand over her mouth. Last night had been better than she’d ever hoped it could be. And now, he was making her breakfast. By the smells wafting toward her, she thought it might even be her favorite. Poached eggs and toast.
Rolling over, she grabbed her phone from the bedside table where Jace had left it for her to find, along with the roses he’d put into a glass vase. She couldn’t believe he’d bought her flowers. He’d never done it before, not even in college.
Carrie smiled as she went through her phone notifications, but it looked like she hadn’t missed anything important. She quickly glanced through the news, a morning habit she’d taken up since getting the job at the firm. A headline caught her eye and she frowned, clicking the link to read the whole story.
She sucked in her breath when she read the words. A murder on Fifty-Seventh Street. A break-in last night. A girl found dead not long after she’d called Jace.
A girl named…Madison Holland.
**** End of Body of Proof ****
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