by Lisa Ladew
He stammered. “Well, I uh, I just don’t think casual sex between friends is a good idea.”
Vivian imagined she could feel the heat coming off his body even from a few feet away, like they were standing right now. She felt the fire between her legs return and burn the rest of her. Suddenly she knew this was happening. There would be no backing out or backing down. Hawk was hers for the night, it was just a matter of time.
“Maybe you should ask me out on a date then.” Vivian couldn’t believe the confident words out of her mouth. It was like the filter between her brain and her mouth was gone, maybe incinerated, from her heat or from Hawk’s, and now she immediately said everything she was thinking.
She reconsidered. “Never mind that. It’s not 1960 anymore. I don’t need a Sadie Hawkins dance to ask a man out. Hawk, would you go out on a date with me? I would really like to get to know you better.”
Understanding finally clicked into Hawk’s eyes. And with it came raw passion. His eyes swept down her body quickly, then back up to her face. Vivian nodded. Now he’s getting it. He licked his lips. “Yes,” he said, his voice deep and quiet.
“There, now we’re dating,” she answered back, her own voice suddenly husky sounding to her ears. She reached out and grasped his hand, threading her fingers through his and pulling him slightly towards her.
“I guess we are.” He moved in swiftly and reclaimed the position he’d fled from in the hall. He lowered his mouth to hers and lingered, half an inch away. She could feel his breath on her face. It smelled slightly of beer. “Thank you for listening to me,” he said, voice still low and deep. He snaked his tongue out and licked the union of her lips.
“Ahhhhh,” she sighed, as the ripples of sensation from his intentional contact slipped down her spine. In that instant, Hawk took charge, and Vivian welcomed it. She knew he would steer her right where she wanted so much to be.
Slowly, he closed the half inch gap to her mouth and kissed her like he had all the time in the world, their tongues meeting gently. His hands skimmed her sides and up to her breasts. She drew in a breath as his thumbs slid over both her nipples simultaneously, the raw friction delicious and maddening at the same time. She wanted her shirt off and his skin against her skin. She wanted to be in the bedroom, away from all these windows.
As if reading her mind, he slid an arm behind her and picked her up suddenly, his lips never leaving hers. She squeaked into his mouth at being so easily picked up, as if she weighed nothing, and then relaxed into his hold. He took three steps around the table and into the hallway, turning sideways so as not to bang her head.
Beside her bed, he gently put her down on her feet. He broke contact with her lips and looked at her, as if to say, Are you sure you want this? She was more than sure, so she took the opportunity to rid herself of her bothersome blouse. He looked down at her breasts, still covered by her white, lace bra and smiled. Slowly, he moved a hand to one and ran his thumb over the nipple again. She arched her back, wanting more. Wanting both hands. His mouth. Wanting everything he had to give.
He was skillful; swiftly her bra ended up on the floor and she got all of her wishes. Vivian pulled at his ears and ran her fingernails down his neck, then pulled at his shirt. In a flash, it was gone too.
Vivian’s eyes saucered. His bare chest was a work of art. Sculpted muscles and just so big. She ran her hands down the front of him and felt each individual ab muscle with her fingers. “Oh Mr. Kinkaid, do you work out?” she said, in a mock coquette voice.
He chuckled lightly and pulled her close. “Yes Miss Dashell, I do. My work is demanding, you know.”
He lowered his lips to hers again, cutting off any reply, then bent her backwards over the bed with his body, slowing their fall with an outstretched arm.
Vivian’s shoes were kicked off long before, but now Hawk kicked his off and Vivian heard them thump to the carpet. She waited for him to come close, her eyes gazing at him hungrily. She ran her nails lightly down his left arm, marveling at the solidity of the muscles underneath.
Again he kissed her, greedily, his stubble deliciously scraping her chin and cheeks. “You are so beautiful,” he said an instant before his mouth closed on her nipple. His words enflamed her passion and spurred her to new heights of desire. She arched her back and pulled him down onto her. He alternated between laving her breasts and kissing her mouth, seemingly unable to choose between just one, his breathing coming rough and fast.
Vivian reached her hands down, unable to wait any longer, wanting to feel if he was as big as he had felt when she’d had the one opportunity to touch him before. She popped his jeans open and slid one hand inside, dividing her attention between what he was doing to her, and what she wanted to do to him.
Her fingertips grazed him and he jumped just a little. Her hands explored him and he groaned into her mouth. “Take your pants off,” she whispered. They hit the floor in 2 seconds.
She’d been imagining his body for weeks, but she hadn’t come close to it’s actual magnificence. He was tan and strong, and his erection stood out from his body in a bold exclamation, hard as steel and twice as wide as she’d imagined. She took ahold of it with both hands. She had no plans, but she did have a goal: for the two of them to become one.
He moaned. “Easy Miss Dashell, it’s been a long time for me, if you don’t want this over before it’s begun, be easy.”
She smiled, glad at the thought that it had been a long time for him. He was hers, truly hers.
“Ok, I’ll be easy.” She lightened her touch, but didn’t let go. His intensity doubled under her touch, his tongue reaching farther and faster into her mouth, his thumbs expertly teasing her breasts into full submission. This ratcheted up her desire even more. Between her legs throbbed and called. She shed her pants and underwear, practically ripping them off and sailing them across the room.
Now he pinched one nipple, a little hard, just as hard as she liked it and she groaned, the feeling spearing all the way to her womb, almost setting her over the edge. She strained into his hand and rolled her head from side to side. He pinched the other, then palmed her with more vigor than he had been. She loved it, pulling him on top of her and keening her approval.
“Mmmmm, I think Miss Dashell likes it a little bit rough?” he breathed into her mouth.
“Just a little. Don’t hurt me,” she breathed back.
He nuzzled down her cheek to her neck. “I. Will. Never. Hurt. You,” he said between kisses.
Her heart was glad to hear it. This was a man who could hurt her in a heartbeat, but who she knew never would.
She tried to pull him on top of her, wanting nothing more than to have him inside of her.
“Vivian,” he stopped and looked at her. “I was serious about it being a long time. I don’t even have any condoms. Do you?” His voice was hopeful.
She thought for a second then shook her head, almost frantically. “Noooo,” she wailed.
He frowned, thinking. “No matter,” he said. “We’ll get some in the morning. For now, we can just play.” He lowered his head to her breasts and played. Then he trailed kisses down her stomach, then her right thigh. He urged her legs apart and she gasped, not believing this was happening. She felt his fingers gently touch her. She lifted her head to look at him, and he locked eyes with her at the same time as he licked her most intimate and sensitive spot with the flat of his tongue. Her eyes widened and she lost control, flopping her head to the bed. She lost herself completely, becoming only sensation. In under a minute, the fire that had been teasing her all night exploded outward from her core and pulsed throughout her body. She screamed, not able to help herself. When the fire finally stopped pulsing and she was able to open her eyes, he was there, looking at her thoughtfully and smelling like sex.
He smiled. “That was quick.”
She drew her eyebrows together, in a teasing scold. “Well you’ve been teasing me for weeks.”
His mouth dropped open in protest and she laughed.
“Is that what you call playing?”
“Yep. Fun, huh?”
“Oh yes, and now it’s my turn to play.”
She slid down the bed and climbed on top of his legs, intending to return the favor. He held one arm. “Sweetheart, you don’t have to do that.”
“I know, I want to,” and with that she closed her mouth over the head of his cock. His hand fell off her arm and he laid back in the bed, sucking in a deep breath.
This wasn’t always her favorite thing to do, but with Hawk, it seemed like exactly the thing she most wanted to do in the world. She loved the slightly salty taste of him and the feel of pure man in her hands and mouth. He gasped and shuddered underneath her and came as quickly as she did.
As soon as he went limp in the bed, a small smile on his face, she ran off to the small bathroom to her right and cleaned up quickly. His eyes were still closed when she climbed back into bed. She peered into his face and told him “That was quick,” a smile in her voice.
He laughed, eyes still closed. “Yeah, well, you’ve been teasing me for weeks too.”
She smiled and wrestled the covers out from underneath them, then nestled in the crook in his arm, feeling good, sated, happy.
He caressed her hair. She pressed against his warmth and watched the stars twinkle in the sky, out the small window.
She dozed with a feeling of lightness in her heart, then woke abruptly to a soft noise from Hawk. She lifted her head to look at him. He was sleeping, his face contorted as if in pain, or grief. As she watched a tear slid down his cheek. She kissed it away, not having to wonder what he was dreaming about.
His expression smoothed out and she settled back down to the pillow of his chest.
Chapter 23
Craig nuzzled Emma’s neck, then pulled out her ponytail with his fingers and spread her hair around his face. He loved the smell of it.
“Don’t go. Stay here with me all day. We could get you out of that uniform and into something soft and see-through,” he told her, his voice muffled by her skin.
“Mmmmm, don’t tempt me. I can’t miss any more work.” She threw her head back and let him kiss her neck a dozen more times, then tore herself away from him, slipping quickly into the driver’s seat of her car and plucking her hair tie out of his fingers through the open window.
He closed her door and kissed her one more time. “Please be careful,” he told her. “Please don’t let your guard down. I know we haven’t heard anything about Norman in over a week now, but that doesn’t mean he’s not out there, waiting for the perfect moment.”
“Don’t worry about me. I won’t let my guard down. She patted her side, where the gun she would wear on the way to work and then store in a firearms locker until she got off of work, was in a holster. “Me ‘n Betsy’ll keep our eyes peeled.”
He snorted laughter, in spite of his attempts to stay serious. “You named your gun Betsy?”
“Sure, why not? What’s your gun’s name? Lemme guess. Brock?”
Craig shook his head at Emma’s silliness. “My gun doesn’t have a name.”
“Ok, I’ll think of a good one for you. Bye!” She reversed out of the driveway and sped off down the road in the direction of the ambulance bay.
Craig watched her go, saying a little prayer that she would be safe. He knew the gun would only help Emma in certain situations. If Norman plowed into her on the street with his car, that gun wouldn’t help her at all.
God he felt helpless. And the worst part was he wasn’t even working on finding Norman today. His department was spread so thin by Hawk having to disappear that it seemed like nothing was getting done. He’d served the search warrants on all the RV and storage places in town but Norman had never rented any of them. Now he had to wait a day for the warrants to come back signed so he could contact companies outside of Westwood Harbor. So far, neither the state police nor the prison investigators had found one clue regarding Norman’s whereabouts. They had found a dozen ways that he could have made it off the grounds before being discovered though, like in the back of the truck that delivered meals and food for the day. He could have sneaked on while it sat in the loading bay and the driver filled out paperwork at the desk. The prison hospital had a lot of policy changes to make, thanks to Norman. Craig just hoped Emma wouldn’t have to pay the price of those changes being too late to keep Norman incarcerated.
Down the road, Emma’s car took a turn and disappeared from view. Craig sighed, said one more prayer and pulled his own keys out of his pocket. Even though he wouldn’t be tracking down Norman today, he was excited about what he would be doing. He’d found an address on the hacker Hawk and Vivian had uncovered, and he was going to go talk to the guy.
Craig turned the opposite way on the street as Emma had and headed to the courthouse. It was a quick drive and didn’t give him much time to think about the day. First he stopped in to the Federal judge’s office. The receptionist was expecting him and handed him an envelope containing his signed warrant. Yes, he thought and scooted down the hall to the FBI’s official office.
He opened the door and found Dennis sitting behind a desk.
“Hey Dennis! I sure am glad you are still in town. I don’t know who would be going with me if you weren’t,” Craig told him.
“Yeah? Well, I’m glad to help, but not glad I’m still here. This assignment is proving a bitch to close.” Dennis shrugged his broad shoulders and rolled his head in a wide circle, trying to ease the kinks in his neck. Craig noted his hair was a touch too long and his eyes bloodshot, like he’d been too busy to sleep or take care of himself.
“Sorry man, maybe I can help you if you are still here when we find Foster.”
“We? You still working with Hawk?” Dennis’s eyebrows rose.
“What?” Craig wasn’t sure what Dennis had heard.
“Word around the office is that Hawk is about to get busted by the DEA.”
“You believe that shit?” Craig growled, his body becoming rigid. Crap. He couldn’t serve a warrant by himself, but he wasn’t going to serve it with someone who believed Hawk was a smuggler either.
Dennis dropped his eyes. “Well, it did seem out of character for him.”
Relief coursed through Craig. “Damn right it’s out of character. Someone’s planting evidence and creating the investigation out of thin air.”
Dennis’ face showed a stunned interest. “Who?”
A cynical smile rose on Craig’s lips. “If I knew that, it would be over already. Come on, we’ve got to get going.”
On the way to the basement apartment, Craig filled Dennis in.
“His name is Lionel Vincent Erwin, he’s 22 years old, and apparently some sort of a homeschooled computer prodigy, but not able to hold down a job. He was courted by Amazon and Microsoft, but he won’t leave home to go to work.”
Dennis whistled. “22 huh? That’s awfully young to be hacking into government systems.”
Craig nodded.
“And what are we looking for?”
“We want to know what kind of jobs he did for Norman Foster. We’ll be taking his main computer, regardless, but if he cooperates fully, we won’t be arresting him. He will, however, be offered protection and relocation since Foster is loose. I’m not sure if he’ll take it, but even if he doesn’t I’ll have to keep an eye on him. I hope he does, it will just be easier that way. I go back and forth about the arresting though. I feel like he’s still young enough that maybe he could be scared straight.”
Dennis nodded as they pulled up to the house. “Who lives up top?”
“2 guesses.”
Dennis looked at him, eyebrows skyhigh. “Not his parents?”
Craig threw his head back and laughed. “Yep. Just his mom. Dad hadn’t been in the picture for years. But he’s got his own entrance so hopefully we don’t have to deal with mom.”
Craig blocked the driveway with the big FBI truck and they got out, alert for anything.
“I’ll call PD. They were suppos
ed to have a support car here 10 minutes ago, you check around back for another exit. If there is one stay back there and I’ll call you. Got your phone?”
Dennis patted his hip and walked around the red, brick, partially-sunken level disappearing around the back of the house.
Craig put in his call to the police department’s receiving desk, inquiring about his police escort. FBI didn’t have to have local police on the scene, but they generally liked to. It just made things easier. The Sergeant at the receiving desk was pleasant, but noncommittal. They were busy. They were slammed. Someone could come by in 45 minutes, maybe.
Craig hung up and called Dennis’ phone. “We’re not waiting 45 minutes for the cops. You got an exit back there?”
“Yep.”
“Ok, work on it. I’m going in the front right now.”
Craig hung up, dropped his phone in his pocket and the lanyard holding his ID and badge into his shirt, just in case. He didn’t need to be strangled with it. He looked over the white, wooden door and door frame leading to the basement apartment first, and then knocked. “FBI, we have a warrant for the arrest of Lionel Erwin. Open the door,” he called loudly.
He listened and when he didn’t hear anything he counted to 20. Then he pulled his gun from his holster and tried the knob. Locked. He pulled his weight back on his left foot and heaved one kick with his right just below the door knob. The frame splintered with a satisfactory splitting sound. Craig tried the door again and when it wouldn’t open he gave it another kick. It swung inward. He entered the room, weapon held out before him, index finger on the trigger guard.
The basement opened up into one large room, dimly-lit and full of computers. It looked like all the monitors were off, except for one. Craig only spared it a glance; he took in that the computer seemed to be running a sequence of commands. He hoped it wasn’t deleting files. Oh well if it was. He wouldn’t touch it until he cleared the entire apartment.
