The Profiler

by Chris Taylor

  “I met Lisa my first week of college. By the second week, we were dating.” He shrugged. “I was eighteen.”

  Comprehension dawned on her face. “You mean, you’ve never… You haven’t…? There hasn’t…?”

  He sighed again and sunk back against the couch. Reaching over, he took her hand and entwined her fingers with his. “No, there hasn’t. Well, not really. There were a couple of times I got to second base in high school, but that didn’t compare to how it was with Lisa. We were adults for one, and we were in love. It made such a difference.”

  She frowned and he could have kicked himself. Why the hell was he talking about his wife—even a dead one—with a woman he’d just been making out with? Any idiot knew that wasn’t a good idea.

  But what else was he supposed to do? She’d asked him the question. He wasn’t going to lie to her. Besides, she knew he’d been married.

  “What was she like?”

  He turned to face her and shook his head. “Ellie, we don’t have to do this.”

  “No, I want to hear about her. She was obviously an important part of your life.” Her hand tightened in his. “Your face softens every time you mention her.”

  His eyes closed and he drew in a deep lungful of air. Exhaling it slowly, his gaze sought hers in the dimness. “You’re a remarkable woman, Ellie Cooper.”

  “I was thinking the same thing about you. The way you look, the way you sound when you talk about her…” She shook her head. “I hope I find someone who feels as strongly about me one day.”

  “You say it as though I’m still in love with her.”

  “Aren’t you?”

  He pulled his hand out of hers. Guilt, sharp and oppressive, weighed heavily inside him. His memories of Lisa had grown hazy. It had been happening for weeks. Little things. Like how she’d looked when she smiled. And frowned. The smell of her perfume. The sound of her laughter. They had all started to fade.

  Panic tightened in his chest. What if one day he couldn’t remember her at all? What if she disappeared from his memory like an old, familiar song he hadn’t heard in quite awhile?

  Ellie’s voice came to him in quiet reassurance. “It’s okay, Clayton. It’s okay. It makes me realize how special you are when you’re still in love with your wife who’s been dead for… How many years ago did she die?”

  “Three.” He nearly choked on the word and cleared his throat. “She died nearly three years ago.”

  Ellie shook her head. “Wow.”

  “Yeah, wow,” he replied quietly. Taking a deep breath, he released it on another sigh. With a fierceness that surprised him, he caught and held her gaze. “She was all I’d ever wanted. I thought I’d spend the rest of my life with her. And then…and then, she left us.”

  “How did she die?”

  Pain and guilt warred in his gut. He clenched his teeth and closed his eyes. Drawing in a deep breath, he opened them again and found Ellie’s wide with compassion.

  “She committed suicide.”

  Ellie gasped and her mouth went slack with shock. Clayton looked away, unable to bear the thought of seeing judgement in her eyes.

  “How?” The question came softly and without inflection. He glanced up, relieved to find her expression filled with nothing but concern.

  “She overdosed. Undiagnosed post-natal depression. That’s what the doctors told me afterward. After it was too late.” He stood and paced the small confines of the living room, unable to sit still a second longer.

  “I should have seen it, Ellie. I should have realized. She was my wife, goddammit. I was meant to protect her, to look out for her. In sickness and in health. That’s what I’d promised. And I failed her. I didn’t see it. Her pain was right before my eyes and I didn’t see it.”

  Ellie stood, too, shaking her head. “No, Clayton. That’s not fair. I’m sure you weren’t the only person in her life. And she was the one who made the decision. No one else. Don’t do this to yourself.”

  He wanted to throw her quiet words off, along with the balm they offered to his battered spirit. It wasn’t the first time he’d heard them. His family, even Lisa’s parents had made similar pleas.

  He’d refused to listen, hadn’t wanted to. For nearly three years, he’d embraced the pain and the guilt, had even welcomed it as a way to atone for the loss of his wife. But somehow, with Ellie, it was different. He wanted to believe the words now. He wanted to be free of the guilt that had weighed him down for so long.

  He reached out and took Ellie’s hand. Holding it tightly in his, he led her back to the couch and sat. His eyes burned into hers, suddenly wanting her to understand.

  “Ever since I met you, I’ve struggled. It used to be so easy to accept my responsibility for Lisa’s death, to accept the blackness of my guilt as good and proper punishment for my failure to see the signs and protect her. I’m a profiler, for God’s sake. I should have noticed.”

  He dragged in a breath and continued. “I haven’t slept well since the funeral. Most nights, I wake and remember and then I can’t fall back to sleep. But ever since I met you, things have been different. I’m still waking up in the middle of the night, but Lisa isn’t the woman foremost on my mind. She isn’t the woman I’ve lain awake this past month fantasizing about, wanting to taste all over with my lips. She isn’t the woman I’ve yearned to feel writhing beneath me. And I don’t know what to do about it.”

  Ellie flushed, but her gaze remained steady on his.

  Clayton implored her. “I’ve never met anyone like you. You’re smart and funny and persistent and annoying.”

  “Don’t forget cantankerous, rude, bitchy and stubborn.”

  He smiled. “Thoughtful, kind, honest and beautiful. You’re all I’ve been able to think about since I arrived.” His voice lowered to a whisper. “You’re the first woman since Lisa who’s made me feel alive.” He drew her closer. “It scares the hell out of me, but I can’t do anything to stop it. Dammit, Ellie, I’m falling in love with you.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Ellie’s mouth fell open in surprise. It was the last thing she’d expected him to say. With her mind whirling in confusion, she tried to process his words.

  Without warning, he put his arm around her and hauled her closer until she was almost in his lap. She squirmed, but his arm only tightened around her.

  “You’re over-thinking this, Ellie. It’s not that complicated. I loved my wife very much, but it’s only since meeting you that I’ve realized the guilt had taken over and that’s what’s been tying me to Lisa, to her memory. And it’s not fair, to her or to me. What we had was wonderful, all I ever dreamed, but she opted out and I have to live with that.”

  His eyes remained somber on hers. “After she died, I never thought I’d meet another woman who’d do it for me like she did. It’s been three years and no one’s even come close.” He picked up her hand and held it tightly. “And then you came along, and it’s different—yet so good.”

  He lifted her hand and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. “Beautiful. Sexy. Smart. Sassy. Somehow, with your entrancing smile and caustic tongue, you’ve managed to captivate me.” He shook his head and his lips tugged upward. “You’re all I can think about. There’s a crazed killer on the loose and you’re the one constantly on my mind.”

  He drew her even closer until their faces were only inches apart. He traced his fingertip softly across her lips. Ellie drew in a sharp breath and her heart rate increased its pace. She watched in fascination as his desire-filled gaze followed the progress of his finger.

  “You’ve made me feel alive again, Ellie. It sounds like a cliché, but it’s like I’ve woken up from a long, deep sleep. All of a sudden, I feel like a man, with all the wants and needs and desires of a man. And I’m starved for the taste of you.”

  His mouth came down on hers, crushing his final words against her lips. Warm and passionate, his tongue pressed with hot persistence until she opened her mouth for him.

  He groaned at her capit
ulation and drew her flush against him. His mouth continued to ravage hers. His breathing rasped against her ears and her heart thudded.

  Her limbs were heavy and disjointed. She was powerless to move away from him. Not that she wanted to. She’d been attracted to him right from the start, even if she hadn’t been prepared to admit it. His warm lips moved lower and nibbled at the skin of her neck and she sighed.

  “You taste so good,” he murmured. “So soft. So beautiful. So sweet. I’m never going to get enough.”

  His words sent a surge of excitement arcing through her, leaving her breasts tingling for his touch. Her nipples hardened beneath her sweater. Need pooled between her legs and she tightened her arms about him. He dragged his head up for another soul-wrenching kiss.

  His lips were magic. Enough for her to forget everything but him. The coffee lay cold and abandoned on the side table. A biting wind nipped in through the opened doors and she was oblivious to all of that.

  Sensation continued to build between her thighs and a mewling sound of need escaped her lips. Her clit tingled and throbbed and she almost sighed in relief when his palms cupped her breasts through her sweater and fondled them.

  His fingers scraped over her aroused nipples and she moaned again. She ached to feel his hand on her bare skin and pulled away. She lifted her sweater over her head in one swift motion.

  She wasn’t wearing a bra. Or knickers. There hadn’t been time. She’d barely had time to toss the towel on her bed and pull on a pair of jeans before he was there. She’d grabbed the sweater off the back of the chair in the living room and had hurriedly pulled it on as she’d rushed to open the door.

  Now it lay discarded on the floor somewhere. It didn’t matter where. All that mattered was the feel of his hands on her heated skin.

  His mouth closed over one of her nipples and she gasped and pressed against him. It had been so long since she’d been with a man. Too long. Her body was ready to explode.

  But it wasn’t just her lack of sex that caused her to burn and tremble and shudder with every caress. It was him. Clayton. The man she’d had a crush on ever since he’d touched down in her life. A co-worker. A Fed. The type of man she swore she’d never date again.

  Not that this was dating. This was sex. This was lust. This was two consenting adults sating their physical needs. It was as simple as that. Oh, he may have gone all romantic and mentioned the ‘L’ word, but she knew better than to pay heed to that.

  The man was still in love with his dead wife, for God’s sake. He’d known Ellie for a bit over a month. It couldn’t be love.

  It was two people admitting to an attraction and acting on it to their mutual advantage. It had been quite awhile for her between lovers and apparently, even longer for him. Surely they could enjoy each other for the moment and take what each of them was more than willing to give?

  A mind-blowing orgasm beat a drink after work any day. She knew what she’d rather have. And by the feel of the solid hardness against her butt, he would be only too happy to oblige her.

  And mind-blowing it would be, if the quality of his kiss was anything to go by.

  His tongue stole into her ear and she shivered. Her nipples puckered in response. His hand brushed across them again, teasing them into hard little nubs. She grabbed his head in both hands and dragged it upward.

  “Kiss me, Clayton.”

  His eyes darkened with emotion and his lips came down once again to claim hers. Hot and possessive, they roamed over her mouth before his tongue plunged inside. Heart pounding, she clung to him, reveling in the excitement that was building deep inside her. She squirmed in his arms, wanting to be closer to his hardness. Her clit pulsed with need.

  “I want you inside me.” Her whispered words elicited a groan from deep inside him. Releasing her mouth, he pushed her back gently against the cushions, his gaze sliding from her face to wander and pause at her naked breasts.

  “Christ, you’re so beautiful. More than I imagined.” His fingers traced lightly across her heated flesh. She moved restlessly, needing to feel his weight upon her. Wanting him to hurry.

  “Easy, now, sweetheart. We’ve got all night.” He bent low and circled her nipple with his tongue. The heat of it against her cool skin seared her. She gasped and pressed up into his mouth.

  “Clayton.” It was a moan of want, of need, of impatience.

  He chuckled and moved slightly away. His hands found the top of her jeans. With agile fingers, he undid the button and slid the zipper down. Lifting her hips, she wriggled on the couch while he tugged them off her and tossed them onto the floor.

  She lay naked beneath his heated gaze. His gaze moved over her like a warm caress. Need settled wet and hot between her thighs. She reached for him.

  Pulling his shirt off over his head, he made quick work of his boots and jeans. She watched in fascination at the play of taut muscle across his chest and abdomen.

  Just as she’d imagined. The Fed had a body to die for.

  Her fingers tingled at the thought of touching him. He shucked off his underwear and stood almost shyly in the dim light of the room and let her look her fill.

  She took her time. He was all perfectly proportioned muscle, with not a skerrick of excess fat. An impressively broad pair of shoulders tapered into narrow hips. His cock stood thick and tall and ready. Her clit hummed in expectation.

  He moved closer and the light from the fire glanced off the wedding band that hung around his neck. Ellie swallowed and looked past it to the wide expanse of golden chest.

  His skin was pale, not bronzed, but he was from Canberra and it was the middle of winter. He’d hardly be sporting a tan. He was still beautiful.

  And that was the only way she could describe him. Beautiful. She’d never seen such male perfection. Apart from in movies. And that’s what he looked like. A movie star. She suddenly felt unaccountably shy and uncertain. She half sat up and drew her knees to her chest.

  He was beside her in an instant. Concern furrowed his forehead.

  “Ellie, what’s wrong? What did I do? I’m sorry, if you’d rather I closed the curtains… I just want to look at you, that’s all. But—”

  She shook her head and smiled softly. “No, it’s nothing. And I don’t mind the light.” Her voice dropped to a shy whisper. “I want to look at you, too.”

  She drew her knees down and reached for him again.

  He needed no further encouragement and settled himself on top of her. She felt the pressure of his erection against her womanhood and sighed when desire re-ignited inside her.

  It had been so long since she’d been with a man. But this wasn’t just any man. This was Clayton and so far, being with him was better than anything she’d imagined or experienced. The Fed who she’d been determined to dislike, but who’d managed to overturn her pre-conceived character flaws at every turn… He was charming and kind, smart and funny. And okay, he was drop-dead gorgeous. He was nothing like Robert.

  So, he was still in love with his dead wife. She could live with that. It just went to show how deeply he loved and how loyal he was. She had to admire that.

  His forehead rested on hers. His lips hovered inches from her mouth.

  “You’re thinking too much again, Ellie. I can feel the heat coming off your forehead.”

  She grinned wickedly, hoping to distract him. “Maybe, I’m thinking about how good it will feel when I finally have you inside me… Thick and hard and hot. I have to tell you, I’m suitably impressed with your offering.”

  He growled low in his throat. Arms taut with muscle slid underneath her and held her close as his mouth took possession of hers.

  Heat flared between them. His arms tightened around her and Ellie’s pulse picked up its rhythm. His bare chest scraped across her already sensitized nipples and she arched up against him. His cock pressed against her clit. She moaned, filling with need.

  He moved his hips against her. Her legs fell open in unspoken invitation. He groaned and settled himself
between her thighs, his solid hardness pressed against her entrance.

  A sudden thought intruded. She broke off his kiss with a gasp.

  “What about a condom? Do you have one?”

  * * *

  Clayton tensed and then collapsed against her, breathing heavily. A few moments later, realization dawned. Anger stirred to life inside him. Coldness filled the pit of his belly. He lifted his head and looked at her.

  “A condom? Why the hell would I have a condom? I didn’t actually come over here to seduce you, Ellie. “Is that what you think? That I planned this?”

  “No, no. Of course not.” A blush stained her cheeks and she wouldn’t meet his eyes. He pushed away and sat on the edge of the couch, his breath still coming in short gasps. Reaching down, he picked up his jeans and stood to pull them on.

  She watched him in silence, her knees drawn up to her chest, her arms draped protectively around them. Her eyes were huge and solemn.

  “Please sit down, Clayton. Whatever you’re thinking, I can tell you, you’re way off base. I don’t think you planned to end up on my couch. The only reason I asked was because I’m...” Her cheeks stained a darker color in the dim light. She stared at the floor.

  He shook his head, totally bewildered. Almost defiantly, she looked up and met his eyes. “I’m not using any contraception, okay? I know that probably makes me sound like an idiot. A single twenty-seven-year-old, passably attractive woman just winging it, but the truth is—”

  She paused again and looked away. He could see she was struggling with what she wanted to say.

  His anger softened. “What is it, Ellie? What are you trying to tell me?”

  Filling her lungs with a deep intake of air, she let it out slowly and met his gaze again. “The truth is, there hasn’t been a need for contraception. I haven’t had sex since Jamie died.”

  His heart swelled with tenderness at the embarrassment on her face. He came over and sat down close beside her. Tugging her resisting form toward him, he enfolded her in his arms. Her head fell onto his chest and she let out a quiet sigh of relief.