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Intimate Danger (Empire Blue Book 1)

Page 8

by D. C. Stone


  His lips tightened and her gaze dropped to them. Despite watching that level of depravity, she still found herself drawn to this man. How was that possible?

  “Charlie,” Trent rumbled, his voice a very clear warning.

  Her gaze shot up to his and she stiffened, seeing naked desire heating his eyes. Shit. “I’m hungry,” she blurted out.

  Trent’s eyes widened before he grinned, a slight tilt to his mouth that had her stomach flipping.

  “Yeah?” he asked and started to pull her closer, his arms coming around her shoulders like steel bands. Her body touched his and that stomach flip turned into a full on tumble that she bet would rival the Summer Olympics gymnastics squad. He was hard…everywhere. Her breasts pressed to his chest, her thighs against his, and their hips, dear Lord, their hips fit to perfection.

  “Trent,” she breathed, her words spoken on a gasp. “Food. I’m hungry for food.”

  He chuckled and the feeling of his body shaking against her hard nipples sent a spike of lust straight between her legs. Hell, he felt good.

  “Then maybe we need to feed you, huh?” he asked with so much sexual innuendo it was a surprise she didn’t fall at his feet.

  That thought, and his comment, had her snapping her eyes up to his and pushing her hands, against the very, very, very hard wall of his chest.

  “You’re arrogant, you know that?” she asked.

  He grinned again and crossed his arms, looking pointedly down at her chest before grinning wider. “I’m confident, Charlie. Let’s go eat.”

  ****

  Light filtered through the doorway, a sliver of his treat waiting. The sound of falling water filled the room and mist escaped its confines, pushed out to the dark room where he waited.

  He had been standing for hours, holding back from the impulse for gratification. His muscles cramped, his body glued to the spot with the length of time he had been there. Even a slight shift tugged at muscles tense from waiting, being restrained. His mind, though, ran rapid with expectations of what was to come.

  Glancing at his bag, he shivered at the remembrance of what he had pulled from her lingerie drawer. This woman seemed to have a fetish for lace. The cloth had been slightly rough against him, but the erotic peek-a-boo of his skin increased his excitement, and drove him toward a new type of curiosity. Never before had he made voluntary contact with his pawns—the females who gave to him, provided for him. Tonight something awoke, a darker craving to see just how much more he could obtain.

  A sweet feminine hum broke the silence, and he cocked his head, listened as the shower door closed.

  In an instant, his body came alive, hardened, and excitement thrummed through his veins.

  He stepped forward, approached the brown door, and used two gloved fingers to push it open.

  To his left stood the enclosed standing shower, tempered glass fogged from steam. To his right a mirror with condensation around the corners reflected a woman’s nude form. Her breasts lifted as she slathered shampoo in her hair. She closed her eyes as hot water poured in rivulets along her skin. The drops traveled in a path, moving across pink flesh, jumping over curves, diving into valleys, falling from the peaks of her nipples.

  He untied his boots, still watching her, taking in his treat. He rose, toed off one, the other. His breath was loud to his ears, but the only sound acknowledged in the room was from the water, the shuffling of bottles by the unaware female. The woman twisted, grabbed another bottle from the shower shelf, her hum still filling the air along with the rising steam.

  He worked at his pants, kicked them and his boxers off. His erection pulsed, free of its confinement as he tugged off his shirt and tossed it aside. He took another step, and the woman turned into the water again, her eyes closed, a look of bliss across her china-like features. His hands itched with the closeness of their bodies. Only air and a thin sheet of glass separated him from his next step. Should she turn now, she’d see him there, staring, panting like some rabid dog. He almost wanted it, considered drawing her attention. Picturing the look on her face, the sheer helplessness would almost be worth it.

  He licked his lips as water traveled across her flat stomach, dipped lower. He followed the suds’ course down her figure. Bubbles collected in her navel, toppled over and ran along her legs to the floor. He stepped forward, panting at the sight, and was reaching for the door when his foot hit soft material on the floor.

  Glancing down in passing, he saw he had hit a discarded pink-laced bra and underwear. He picked up the cloth, set them to his nose and inhaled, almost groaning at the scent. She was right there within his reach. The craziness of the situation, the pushing past his comfort zone, getting into this risky of a situation where he could be caught, drove his excitement so high his head buzzed.

  Turn toward me, scream for me, prepare yourself…for me.

  He stared at his form in the mirror attached to the bathroom wall. His face was free of the black mask, flushed with arousal. His physique stood strong, hard. The pink in his hands provided contrast. Such sweet, feminine beauty held at a monster’s mercy. He groaned and wrapped the lacy underwear around his sex and stroked, studying his body, the distinct separation of male and female. Cloth gripping tight, he spent himself into the underwear and shuddered as the last of his seed filled the material.

  He dropped the underwear on the counter, displayed it for his treasure and heard the shower shut off. Pivoting, he strolled from the room with quiet, sure steps, the bra still in his hand. He grabbed his clothing, and walked out of the room just as the woman stepped from her bath.

  Chapter Six

  Twenty-four hours after their semi-dinner date where he’d almost kissed her, Charlie and Trent sat at their desks, each typing away on keyboards. The room was quiet, and the darkness outside already blanketed the area.

  “Come on, Rossi, we’re up.”

  Charlie sat the phone in its cradle and slid out of the chair, passing Trent’s temporary desk with a quick thump on the top. Sweat tickled at the base of her spine as she walked by the chief’s office, and her gaze shifted away from his knowing stare. He knew too much. And while she was the queen in hiding secrets, both that she’d been a Peeping Tom victim, and now lusted like some crazed high school teenager after the star Federal Agent, she couldn’t look Woolsey in the eye. He’d see it all. And as much as she wanted to talk to someone about everything going on, her choices didn’t include the chief.

  She transferred the grip on her coffee to pull the cruiser keys from her jacket, and pushed out the door. It didn’t matter that the sun was going down, not up, she lived on coffee. After the almost sleepless nights, and now the call she’d received, the caffeine was a friend she couldn’t turn away. Hot liquid sloshed through the small peephole of the lid, and she cursed beneath her breath as it scorched her skin.

  “Jesus, Charlie, slow down.”

  A soft tug on her shoulder turned her to face Trent. As with each time he touched her, she shivered as electricity arced up her limbs and settled in a hot ball of need inside her stomach. Cool hands wrapped around her wrist as he lifted her hand closer to a lone light outside the station house. The yellow haze did nothing to provide any clarity, but instead gave off a waxy glint to her reddened skin. Darkness wrapped around them both, and she centered with sole purpose on the man, able to study him without interruptions or anyone being the wiser.

  His glossy dark hair tumbled forward as he dipped his head and studied her skin. The length stated clearly he’d gone one too many weeks without a haircut, but it was so sexily tousled, and the man held the ever-ready confidence that even he could pull it off. Eyebrows many professional models would be jealous of drew down as he frowned. She tugged on her hand, attempting to pull it from his grasp, and lost the battle as he tightened his grip.

  “Hold still a moment,” he murmured with his sole focus on her hand.

  She pulled again, this time more insistent. “It’s nothing. Please give me my hand back.”

&nb
sp; He brushed his thumb over the swelling skin and a thrill followed the same path and rolled through her.

  Charlie repressed a shudder as a different type of burn developed in her gut. Sapphire eyes lifted to hers, all too perceptive, and held her still. She parted her lips as he lifted her hand closer to his mouth, his intentions clear. Anticipation mixed with fire swirling in her stomach. She couldn’t move. Tried to, but her feet wouldn’t cooperate. She could practically feel the warmth of his breath fanning across her skin. Her toes curled inside her boots, and her legs shook.

  Good God, what is he doing? All day she’d kept up. The little flirty comments he’d make, the winking, his sexy smiles. She’d been able to handle it all because it was harmless, just a part of who she was learning Trent Rossi to be. But touching her, finally coming to understand that the electricity she’d felt wasn’t a part of her imagination, it was almost too much.

  Cool air brushed her burning skin. Her skin tingled and spread outward. The exhalation sent shivers through her body, a surreal awareness that had her squeezing her thighs together as a pulse started lower. It was so new, such a shockingly strong feeling that she had to lock her knees together, force her body to stay still and not jump on him like some sex-crazed loon.

  Even with the deep recess of blue eyes holding her captive, his pupils dilated, his gaze grew hooded, and his body shifted forward. He tugged on her arm until the brush of his jeans hit her palm. She was imprisoned, held entranced by this man. Nothing else existed. The world around them was as dark as the sky above.

  His fingers brushed along her cheek, trailed along the length of her neck and wrapped around her nape, coaxing her closer still. She shifted and parted her lips. As she pressed against him, her breath left her lungs. Finally! In the back of her mind, she was surprised at the sound she made as air left her body.

  “Charlie, I don’t know how much longer we can ignore this.”

  His voice was rough and she blinked, stunned. What’s happening?

  The shrill of the theme song to Law and Order cut through the air and Charlie cursed, this time, aloud. Trent pulled back, his heated gaze doused as if she’d imagined this thing between them. She ignored his keen stare and stepped around him, pulled out her phone, and unlocked the cruiser. Her muscles felt like jelly, and hell, after being shocked with that much electricity, could she really think she’d feel like anything else? Of course there was also the hot claw of sexual tension stringing through the air, its talons gripped between them both. That was undeniable, but acting on that sexual tension in the middle of an investigation, and merely acknowledging it, were two different things. Of course, the third option was to deny it was even there. Plausible deniability always worked before. It would work now, too.

  Satisfied she’d come to a decision—and a smart one at that—she set her cell on her shoulder and bit out a greeting. “Yeah.”

  A gruff voice answered. “Yeah? That’s a friendly way to answer the phone.”

  She rolled her eyes and slid into the driver’s seat, hit the unlock button so Trent could join her.

  “Stop rolling your eyes, Charlie.”

  She sputtered, “H-how did you—”

  “Save it,” the chief responded. “I’ve got the mayor breathing down my neck. When you get back, I need to see you and Rossi in my office.”

  She stiffened.

  “Hold on a minute, Chief.”

  “No, you wait a minute, Detective. I meant it when I said I wanted you to be careful with this, and now things are escalating. I just got notified of the call you received before you obviously decided to high-tail it out of here without so much as a goodbye. Before you jump to any conclusions about the direction of the case, I want to hear exactly what you two have uncovered.”

  “Chief,” she began, trying to placate him, “Rossi has been here for all of forty-eight hours. There isn’t too much done yet. We went over the B&Es today, discussed the next steps, and are heading out to some woman reporting an intruder in her home.”

  She could picture Woolsey’s bristle as a long sigh blew through the line. The passenger door slammed shut, but Charlie kept her attention forward and put the car in gear, then eased out of the station parking lot.

  “I understand that. Echols and I have been doing some searching, and I want us all to bring in the different pieces of data together. See if something else is out there, maybe something one of us missed.”

  She completely forgot about the Assistant Special Agent in Charge. “What does Echols say?”

  “Not much. Perhaps discussing it together will get the juices flowing. Especially seeing as our biggest piece of evidence, the video from this morning, didn’t turn up jack.”

  Charlie glanced at the glowing numbers of her dash and calculated the time this could take. They had a call they needed to respond to and it was pushing eight o’clock at night. Her hours were all over the place. “Are you still going to be around in a few hours?”

  Another insufferable sigh pushed through. “Shit. I didn’t notice the time.” Static filled the receiver, the phone muffled for a moment as if he covered it. After a few seconds, he came back on the line. “Echols and I will meet up with you two in the morning. I’ll have my phone until then. If you run into any problems, and I mean any, you give me a call, you hear?”

  The overbearing protection was starting to grate on her nerves. She clenched her teeth. “Yes, sir.”

  The phone went dead without a goodbye and she tossed hers in the cup holder. Rossi’s dark voice broke through the humming engine as she drove through town.

  “Problems?” he asked.

  She kept her focus on the road. “Not at all. Chief and Echols wants to meet in the morning. Talk about the case and stuff.”

  He grunted in acknowledgement.

  “I’ll drop you by your hotel after this and pick you up early tomorrow so we can discuss what we’re going to say before we meet with them.”

  “Doesn’t seem like a whole lot to discuss at this point, depending on what we find tonight.”

  “True, but like the chief pointed out, maybe one of us is missing something.”

  He grunted as if he couldn’t seem to come up with another type of communication. She blew out a breath and turned off Main at a light.

  A few minutes later, she pulled up to the curb and took in the large house looming to their right. She felt Rossi’s gaze on her face, but ignored the urge to look at him. As he turned to face the house too, she glanced at the back of his dark head, unable to resist, before returning to study the area outside.

  The white colonial shot up from the ground like a beacon. Lights shone out of every window, as if the owner did not want any hint of darkness.

  Rossi turned to her. He took a deep breath and she held hers.

  “Charlie, about what happened…”

  She shook her head. “Please, Agent Rossi, don’t worry about it. And please, also, don’t mention it.” Gripping the handle, she pushed the door open and stepped out into the cooling night. Not wanting to discuss anything about what was going on between her and Rossi, and certainly not wanting to get into another “situation” with him where her mind turned to mush at his touch, she rounded the car quickly. She started for the house and his car door slammed. Then she heard him jogging to catch up. The steps stopped as she reached the red-colored front door. She was very aware of how close he was when he brushed against her clothing. Her hair tickled across her cheek right before his voice breached the silence.

  “Once again, it’s Trent. And Charlie, I’m not worried about it. Not at all. In fact, I’m very much looking forward to this…progressing,” he said with a promise.

  She let out a long, insufferable sigh, trying like hell to cover the head-to-toe shiver. Turning her face to look at him over her shoulder, she said, “Look, it is what it is. I’m not going to lie and say I wasn’t caught in whatever moment we had back there. But, I don’t think taking it any further would be smart. We’re assigned to work this ca
se together and need to stay focused on it.

  “So you admit there was a moment, huh?” He grinned.

  Her eyes widened just as the door opened. A young woman with long, brown hair, tossed in a messy ponytail, arms wrapped tight around her body, stood there. Behind her was an older man, his gray hair in a state of disarray. His frown spoke volumes. A heavy cloud centered on the house. Charlie flashed her badge, held it open for a moment longer so the woman could study her credentials.

  “Good evening, Ma’am. I’m Detective Lopez and this is Agent Rossi. I understand you’ve had some problems tonight?” She tucked her badge into her pocket and stepped inside after the woman moved back.

  “Yes, we have.” Up close, the woman looked worse for wear. Tear stains tracked down her face, and her sweater seemed to be growing longer by the minute as she stretched it with each pull of her fingers. “I came home around seven and was on the phone with my mom when I heard a noise in my room.”

  The woman looked to the older man, and then to Charlie. “I thought I was imagining something, but then I heard it again. I stayed on the phone with her but headed out of the house. When I came back about twenty minutes later with my dad—” She pointed to the man, “I found someone had left a message for me.”

  “What did you hear?” Charlie asked, trying to keep up with her story.

  “Noises,” she answered and bit her lip. “From inside my closet. Not like the occasional mouse that comes inside during the fall, but more like someone, a human, was inside the closet.”

  Charlie lifted her eyebrows, but before she could say anything, Rossi spoke.

  “Message? What did it say? And would you mind showing us where you heard the sounds?”

  The young woman’s face slackened as she turned to him. Charlie saw the change and shift in the air. Electricity sizzled, a dawning light spread across the victim’s face. As if seeing Trent for the first time, she began to fidget and wipe beneath her eyes, smearing dripping mascara across her face.

 

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