Deadly Silence

by Rebecca Zanetti

  Pure pleasure ran up her calf. “That feels good.” Was Ryker trying to distract her? “Is Greg dangerous?”

  “Undoubtedly.” Ryker dug both thumbs into the arch. “But that kid would cut off his right arm before harming you. You’re probably one of the few nice people he’s ever met, and you’re more than likely the only one to make him breakfast, if you ask me. He’s safe for you.”

  Her heart broke even more for poor Greg. “You read people so well.” She’d always wanted that talent but was often totally off the mark with others. “Must be nice.”

  “Sometimes it sucks, but it does help with the business.” Ryker shrugged. “Besides, I see a little of myself in that kid. He’s ready to strike out at a moment’s notice, but you give him one ounce of kindness and he’ll die for you.”

  She studied his eyes, more blue than green today, as he revealed more about himself. There wasn’t a doubt in her mind that Ryker would jump in front of a train to save her. “Your childhood hurt.”

  “Yeah.” He gave a lopsided smile.

  Her heart warmed even while it ached for the angry kid he must’ve been. “I’m sorry.” Could she help him heal? Show him that life could be better than good?

  He shrugged. “Wasn’t so bad when I met up with Heath and Denver. Then at least I had a family.”

  He was being so open she couldn’t stop her thoughts from rolling out. “You scare me, Ryker.”

  He lifted an eyebrow and gentled his touch. His head jerked like he’d been punched. “I’d never hurt you.”

  “You’d never mean to hurt me,” she murmured. “But you’re all or nothing. Pure trust or none at all. Full dependence or none.” The words rolled from her tongue. Did he understand that kind of pressure? What if she let him down? He’d been let down too much in life already, she suspected. What if she screwed up and he reacted by leaving? Her heart hurt just thinking about it.

  He rubbed his chin and turned his full focus on her.

  She swallowed.

  “I don’t see you being anything but independent, darlin’.”

  The drawl. Every once in a while, he drawled a sentence in a deeper tone that shot right through her like fine whiskey. “You want everything,” she countered, trying to make sense of the rioting feelings inside her.

  He grinned then, his eyes remaining sober. “I’ll get it, too.”

  She opened her mouth, but no words emerged. Another topic. She had to get away from the charged conversation and think away from him. Her thoughts and emotions were just too damn jumbled at the moment. “Um, okay. Let’s concentrate on the immediate situation. Greg. What are we going to do with him?”

  Amusement—that had to be amusement—creased Ryker’s cheek as he let her off the hook. “While I think Greg is safe for you, I’m not sure if the kid has enemies. If anybody comes to light, I’m moving him to my apartment, and I’ll cover you. Heath and Denver can watch over Greg if necessary.”

  She reached out and cupped his whiskered jaw, warming to the safer topic. Yet she had to know more about him. “Why did you become a private investigator?”

  He moved to her other foot, somehow relaxing her entire body. “The three of us need to find people. Heath wants to find the man who killed his mama, Denver wants to know about where he came from, and I want to find my birth parents. We figured that opening up a detective agency was the way to go.”

  “Have you had any luck?” she asked, her heart jumping at finally learning the truth.

  “No. Not even a little.” Ryker sat back, her foot on his thighs. “We discovered on the way that we have a talent for finding lost people, so we’ve stuck with it. Once in a while we’re too late.” His voice sobered.

  Ah. The girls murdered by the serial killer. Ryker was a guy who’d be haunted forever by that. “I’m sorry, Ryker. Are there any leads on the serial killer case?” she whispered.

  “No. Heath is monitoring the FBI, and we’re trying to figure out a plan, but right now we have a lot going on.” He stopped talking and shoved back to stand up. “I need a shower, and then we’ll grab some shut-eye.” Within a second, he’d disappeared into the master bath.

  Zara watched him go and pressed her hands on her knees, looking around her comfortable bedroom. For some reason, the room always seemed different with Ryker in the house. More exciting and richer. She’d chosen the green bedspread with him in mind, although she’d never admit it. White pillows and furniture kept the room feminine, and the red throw rug on the wood floor added a pop of color.

  The room smelled like Ryker—wild man and leather. He’d been there only a short time, and the room had taken on his essence.

  So had she.

  He’d opened up to her more than ever before, and the idea was both intimidating and exciting. How much more did he have hidden away, and what was it? What was so bad in his past that he wouldn’t share it with her? While he had certainly opened up, she knew he hadn’t told her everything.

  The shower turned on in the bathroom. At the moment, the lost look in his eyes kept nagging at her.

  She pushed from the bed, dropping clothing as she moved across the floor. Nudging open the bathroom door, she stopped as steam blasted against her. Ryker looked up from examining in the mirror a dark bruise across his rib cage, buck ass naked. “Zara?”

  “What happened?” she breathed, running a finger along the purple mark. Who had hurt him? Anger mixed with her concern, and her hand shook.

  “Jay got in a good punch. One.” Ryker reached over her shoulder to push the door closed. A veil had dropped over his eyes. He was retreating from their conversation. From their closeness. “What are you doing?”

  Steam surrounded them. She paused. A smart girl would go back to the other room and shore up her emotional defenses as he did the same.

  Turmoil turned his eyes a deep green, turmoil and something else. What was that? Need. It was need, and he was no longer hiding it. She couldn’t turn away. “I thought you might want company in the shower.” Her knees wobbled.

  His gaze darkened and ran down her nude form. Hunger rolled, heated and strong, through the misty room. “We’re not making it to the shower.” Hooking her by the waist, he took her down to the plush white rug and rolled until she sat on his hips.

  The steam dampened the air, and she ran her hands down his torso. Hard muscle and ripped ridges filled her palms. “I never imagined a man could be so beautiful,” she murmured. Strength could be stunning. “Everything about you is pure male.”

  Evidence of that fact jumped against her inner thighs. He was hard and ready to go that quickly.

  Pure male possession crossed his rugged face while hunger for her curved his dangerous lips. “I’m taking more than just your body, Zara.” He flattened his palm on her abdomen and dragged his fingertips up her torso to her breasts.

  She arched into his rough palms, wetness spilling from her. “Think you can handle that?” she moaned.

  “Watch me.”

  She could only nod as need coiled inside her. Her nipples ached, and deep between her legs, she throbbed.

  “I want to be inside you. Now.” The commanding tone of his voice licked right through her, and she shivered. The man had a definite bossy side in bed, and she’d be totally lying if she said she didn’t like it.

  So she lifted up, grasped him at the base, and tried to lower herself onto him. “You’re too big.” She gasped as her body fought her.

  “Now, Zara.”

  More wetness spilled from her, and he chuckled. Then his hands abandoned her breasts and clamped onto her hips. She stiffened out of instinct.

  “Relax your body, baby. Trust me.” The words were coaxing, but the tone was all command.

  She relaxed and breathed out, her body obeying instantly even as her mind fought to catch up.

  He widened his hips, which widened her thighs. She fell forward, stopping herself with her hands on his broad chest. Sinew and muscle filled her palms. Then he slowly, inexorably lowered her inch b
y inch without giving quarter.

  The feeling of being penetrated, of his slow and sure movements, lit her body on fire. She threw back her head and let him control them both, feeling her internal muscles clench and release. The pressure built to almost too much, and she stiffened again, her gaze catching his. “Wait a sec.”

  He lowered his chin and studied her. Then, apparently reaching a conclusion, “No.” He moved her down his length again.

  The need to challenge him, to fight his dominance, rose in her along with an impish chuckle, so she found purchase with her knees and tried to lift her butt.

  He held her in place but stopped moving. “Zara? You really want me to stop? Or do you wanna play, baby?” His voice was a low rumble that moved through her abdomen with a rush of heat.

  If she truly asked him to stop, he would. But what fun would that be? “Oh, I wanna play,” she whispered, desire shooting through her nerves. “You want such control? You’re gonna have to take it.” Yeah, she knew challenging him, especially like this, might be more than she wanted to take on, but as the haunted look completely fled his eyes, it was definitely worth it. “Unless you’re not up to it?”

  Oops. Too much. Definitely too much.

  His fingers flexed on her hips and he yanked her down until her butt hit his thighs. Pleasure edged with pain surged through her, vibrating with raw pleasure. She sucked in air, and her eyes widened. Move. Oh God, he had to move. She wiggled her butt and dug in her nails, trying to lift back up.

  He held her still. He grinned and her heart stopped.

  Her sex fluttered around him, and heat uncoiled deep inside her. “Ryker,” she breathed.

  Keeping one hand clamped around her hip, he slid his other down over her abdomen and kept going until his thumb brushed her clit.

  Electricity.

  She pressed her lips together to keep from whimpering. When she was a little more in control, she breathed out. “Oh, I like the dangerous side of you.” Her body was one huge nerve of need as she gave him the truth.

  He smiled. “You’re far more dangerous than I could ever be. Sexy and smart…and so damn sweet you kill me sometimes.”

  Those words from him. They gave her power and trust. A shiver wound down her back. She flashed him a smile right as her nails dug into his chest, wanting to push him a little.

  He didn’t even wince. Instead, he pressed hard on her clit and then rubbed. “Sheath the claws or I will.”

  She gasped and gyrated against him. “No.”

  He released her clit and grabbed his belt from his discarded jeans. Her eyes widened. Wait. Oops. Crap. While she tried to draw back, he secured her wrists and quickly bound them behind her back.

  “Hey.” She struggled against the leather and couldn’t release them. A startled laugh, one full of joy and surprise, erupted from her. Heat flared through her so fast she swayed.

  The pads of his fingers grazed her hips and moved up to her breasts to tweak both nipples. The small pain bit into her, and she groaned. So much. Way too much. Then his thighs widened more, and she lost any sense of being in control.

  She had to fight to remain upright and not fall forward onto him, and in doing so, her internal muscles clenched along his hard length.

  His eyes turned molten. “You’re stunning, Zara.” Keeping her gaze captive, he ran his thumb across his tongue and then reached out to rub her clit, his thumb rough and worn. He scraped across her delicate tissue, caressing and rubbing, giving no mercy. She moved against him, so close but nowhere near enough. Little tremors cascaded inside her, catching on his shaft.

  He grinned again. “I could do this every day for the rest of my life.”

  She chuckled. “It would kill me.” She couldn’t get her balance enough to lift up and down, having to satisfy herself by gyrating against his hand.

  “Then the world would become too dark for any of us.”

  Sometimes he was so sweet she didn’t know what to say. So she remained in place, trusting him with this new level of…them. He was fun in bed even while torturing her so perfectly. Maybe she did trust him completely. When had that happened? “This is different, right?” It wasn’t just Ryker… It was them. Vulnerability assailed her for the briefest of moments.

  His gaze darkened. “Yeah, baby. This is just you and me… It’s better than anything else in the world.” He played with her breasts again, his hands rough but his hold nearly gentle.

  Her heart thumped hard. Yeah. It was them. No matter what happened, they had this, and it was special.

  “What do you want, sweetheart?” He reached around, grazed down, and grasped her buttocks, separating them just enough to give her pause.

  Hunger clawed through her. “You. All of you.”

  “You have me.” A quick flick of his wrists, and he unleashed her hands. She barely had time to move them in front of her before he grabbed her waist, flipped them both so she lay on her back, and pulled out only to hammer back in her. Hard.

  She arched against him, her breasts brushing his chest. How could anything real feel so good? “Oh God.”

  He kissed her, his tongue diving in, his mouth stealing every bit of her. Finally, he lifted his head. “Zara. Feel me,” he whispered. A muscle twitched in his cut jaw, and determination of the dangerously masculine kind was stamped hard on his features. Tension, dominant and hot, swelled through the steam. Need. She could see that he needed her. Way more than want…and it was a gift.

  His cock pulsed inside her, every damn ridge filling her. Oh, she felt him, and not just in her body. He knew it, too.

  Her body thrummed to the point of pain, right on the edge. Her heart turned over, so she gave him what they both wanted. She knew what he wanted, what he perhaps needed. Maybe she could make him whole, too. “I feel you, Ryker Jones. All of you,” she said softly.

  His entire body stilled, and his eyes flared a heated green through the blue. He slid an arm up her back to grasp the nape of her neck in an unrelenting hold. His other hand anchored her hip, and her hands were trapped against his chest.

  She. Couldn’t. Move.

  She gasped, and a fine tremor shook her. So much need.

  “That’s my girl,” he said. Then he started to move, fast and deliberate, increasing in speed until there was nothing but his body inside hers.

  She curled her fingers into his skin, completely open to him. He moved her where he wanted her, hammering inside her, unerringly hitting her clit with each hard thrust. A live wire uncoiled inside her, sparking out. She detonated, her body stiffening, raw fire catching her unaware. She cried out his name as the waves took her under.

  He pumped harder and then jerked with his own release.

  Finally, he dropped his head to the crook of her neck. A lazy swipe of his tongue made her tremble. He lifted up, his expression one of satisfied male. Then he frowned and glanced toward the still-running shower. “I think the hot water is gone.”

  Humor bubbled up inside her, and she threw back her head and laughed.

  Was this what happiness—the real kind—felt like? One last chuckle and she lowered her chin, seeking those bluish green eyes. God, this was happiness.

  Suddenly, reality and the world crashed in. She couldn’t lose him. She couldn’t lose this. Not now.

  Chapter

  20

  Ryker drove Zara and Greg back to his place first thing in the morning. While they’d have to sleep at her house for now, he wanted them near his offices during the day. After a breakfast of blueberry pancakes, during which he could almost forget the danger stalking them, Ryker desperately tried to concentrate on Greg and how Dr. Madison tied into Ryker’s own past.

  Denver and Heath worked in their offices while Greg assisted Zara by measuring the apartments upstairs for furniture. After she’d fed him pancake after pancake, the kid had followed her around like a duck that had imprinted. He had even given a little growl when Ryker kissed her on the forehead before heading for his office.

  Heath poked his h
ead in, tension in his shoulders. “The FBI has about twenty suspects they’re following up on with the Copper Killer case, but I’ve gone through them all, and I think they’re on the wrong track. None of those guys really fit.”

  Ryker sighed. “Do we have anything?” If they didn’t get a move on, the bastard would take another girl within the next week, if not the FBI agent. Gut instinct told him the killer was too smart to fall for the trap.

  “Nothing.” Frustration marred Heath’s forehead. “If we had something, I’d head out, but I have no clue where to go.”

  “Hey, guys!” Denver called. “Come here.”

  Ryker pushed from the desk and followed Heath through the main room to Denver’s office. “What?” he asked, dropping into a chair while Heath did the same.

  “I’ve been searching for Isobel Madison, and I found a string to pull. My gut says it’s a trap, and once we bite, backtracking software will kick in and trace us here.” Denver scratched his chin and looked at the computer like it might bite him.

  Ryker’s stomach ached. Did they really want to find that woman? Logically, he knew they had to, but deep down, he was that scared kid again who just wanted to run.

  “We could create software that won’t allow the backtrack,” Heath said, scowling.

  Ryker held up a hand. He needed to be in control to think, and he had to be proactive. “What if we allow her to track us? We could do the same thing to her as we did to Greg. Draw her in. It’s probably the only chance we have of getting her.” She’d had a lot more years than they had to learn surveillance, subterfuge, and strategy. “Let’s fall into her hands.” He wanted to puke as he said the last sentence.

  Denver’s hand folded into a fist on his desk. “I hate this.”

  “Me too,” Ryker said.

  “We’d have to use safe house three,” Heath said.

  Ryker nodded. “If we want her close, it has to be in Cisco.” They’d created three safe houses when they bought the current building just in case they needed to move and fast. “We can wire the place, so if anybody shows up, we can be there in ten minutes.”