Don't Close Your Eyes

by Christie Craig

  He stared down at her breasts covered in the lacy pink bra. “Beautiful.” Reaching behind her, he unhooked it with the ease of a man who’d done it numerous times.

  He slipped the bra off her. Tracing her nipples with his index finger, he watched as they puckered. She was ready to beg for more.

  Reaching down, she tried to unsnap his jeans. “Patience,” he said teasingly. “I like to play.”

  “So do I,” she said, feeling braver than normal.

  Grinning, he unzipped her skirt, then pulled it off. His palms brushed against her bare outer thighs. Then with one knee on the mattress, and a bulge in his jeans, he stared at her pink lace panties. “Pretty,” he said in a hoarse voice. He slipped one finger down her mound and didn’t stop until it was at the V of her legs. “Someone’s wet.”

  She reached down to remove her panties, but he caught her hand. “No. I’m doing it.”

  With a slow hand he slid the silk down her legs, then he sat up again and stared at what he’d uncovered.

  “I’m feeling naked,” she said.

  “You are naked. And I like it that way.” He moved his gaze up and down, making her feel less vulnerable and a lot turned on.

  He unsnapped his jeans. Leaning over, he pushed his jeans and underwear down and stepped out of them. When he stood back up she saw him, hard, erect, ready.

  He dropped back beside her. His sex rested against the side of her leg. The ache between her thighs increased. She reached down, eager to touch him, but he caught her hand before she caught him.

  “Here’s the rules—”

  “I didn’t agree to follow any rules.” She freed her hand and wrapped her palm around him.

  He hissed. “No.” He pulled her hand up to his chest. “I get to touch. Play.” His other hand moved down over her breasts and dipped between her thighs.

  Already close to orgasm, a sound of pure pleasure whispered off her lips.

  “To taste,” he continued and slipped a finger inside her.

  She tightened her thighs around his hand. “Sex is a team sport,” she muttered.

  He laughed. The sound came so fresh. “True, but I’m so hard if you touch me, I’ll be out of the game.”

  “Then maybe we’d better move things along,” she said, her voice low, part tease, part bravado.

  Chapter Twelve

  I like a girl who knows what she wants.” Mark ran his thumb over her clitoris before he pulled his hand away from the soft wet spot between her legs.

  She let out another sweet moan, and he felt it all the way in his chest.

  Damn, she was beautiful. The perfect blend of bashful and bold. He knew he was breaking the rules—the department’s and his own—he never let himself want something this bad. But hell, he’d pay the consequences. It’d be worth it.

  He rose up, grabbed his wallet, and snatched out the foil packet.

  When he got back in the bed, she took the condom from him. “Let me.”

  He leaned back, locked his hands behind his head, and let her take charge. On her knees, her breast shifted ever so slightly. He devoured her with his eyes.

  She used her teeth to open it. Her big blue eyes stayed on him.

  Packet opened, she reached for him. He let out a slow hiss through his teeth as her soft hand surrounded his hardness. Instinctively, he lifted his hips and moved up and then down in her hand. He had to fight not to explode.

  Smiling, she placed the cool rubber on his tip and rolled it down him. Her hand squeezed tighter. His patience snapped.

  He reached for her. “Top or bottom?”

  “Surprise me.” She looked about as happy as he felt.

  He lowered himself on his back and picked her up to straddle him.

  She found the right spot and slowly lowered herself onto him. Tight pleasure hit.

  Leaning her head back, a sigh escaped her. She pressed her hands on his chest, as if unsure she could take him all in.

  He wanted to bolt up, roll her over, and bury himself all the way inside, but he gritted his teeth and let her do it.

  She started rocking, and with each downward sweep she took more of him.

  As the pleasure built, he closed his eyes and thought of baseball, taking out the garbage, cleaning up Bacon’s messes, anything to stop himself from exploding.

  Then, knowing he couldn’t last too much longer, he unlocked his hands. With one hand, he fondled her breast. The other he slipped down where their bodies joined and rubbed his thumb over her nub. Up. Down. Up. Down.

  She moved faster. Faster. “That’s right. Enjoy it.”

  Her breath caught, then she made soft, happy noises. She dropped on top of him.

  He let her have a few seconds. Then he rolled her over, and pumped inside her. The position gave him another half inch into pure ecstasy.

  Using his elbows to hold his weight, he moved his hips up, down, deeper. Then he exploded. The pleasure tightened every muscle inside his body. He rolled on his side, taking her with him, not wanting to leave her body until every last drop of pleasure had seeped out of him.

  When he finally got his breath and she got hers, feeling accomplished and a little powerful, he brushed her hair from her eyes.

  Those big blue eyes blinked. When she opened them again, he saw her tears.

  “Good tears?” he asked, his voice hoarse.

  “Mostly,” she said in a hiccupy voice.

  He swallowed, his accomplished feeling fading. “Explain the not-mostly part.”

  She wiped a hand over her eyes. “I’m just a little worried that it might not have been the wisest thing.”

  He frowned. “Were you not in the same bed as me?”

  She nodded.

  “Then…was that not amazing?”

  She nodded again.

  “So how the hell could that not have been wise? That was…It doesn’t always feel like that.” Frankly, he couldn’t remember the last time it had been that good—that emotionally cleansing.

  “You’re working on my case. We barely know each other.”

  “How can your mind go from awesome sex to worrying it’s not right so fast?”

  She didn’t answer. So he continued, “I’ll deal with the case issue. That’s on me. And I’d say we know each other a hell of lot more now than we did an hour ago.”

  She laughed.

  He pressed a kiss to her cheek. “No regrets allowed.”

  He pulled her against him. The feel of her skin against his was fucking amazing. She was fucking amazing.

  “It was good, wasn’t it?” Her words came against his chest, and he could hear and feel her smile.

  “‘Good’? That’s all I get.”

  “How about ‘great’?” she offered.

  He exhaled. “For an English teacher who is well read, you need to work on your adjectives.”

  She laughed. He breathed in her scent, their scent, the scent of sex. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this happy, this satisfied. Never with Judith.

  His fear of wanting too much, of wanting her too much, vanished, and he decided somehow, someway he had to keep Annie Lakes around.

  * * *

  Thu-thump. Thu-thump.

  The sounds came to Annie first. The sound of her young heart thudding in her chest. The night sound of insects, owls, and unknown creatures.

  The sound of…fear.

  Then a panic-laced young voice echoed in the dark distance. “Faster, Annie.”

  She couldn’t run faster. She couldn’t breathe.

  She couldn’t…wake up.

  She felt trapped in the blackness.

  She screamed.

  “Shit! You okay?”

  Annie caught her breath, attempted to pull the scream back in as she jackknifed into a sitting position. For one second, the dream’s panic turned into who-the-hell-is-in-my-bedroom panic.

  Last night’s details started falling into place. Her panic shot straight into embarrassment.

  They’d made love twice. And
she didn’t even know the man’s middle name, if he voted Republican or Democrat, or if he flossed regularly. “I’m sorry. Just a dream.”

  He sat up and touched her shoulder. The dream, the raw emotions were so fresh, she flinched.

  “Sorry.” He pulled his hand back.

  “No, I’m sorry.” She saw her clock on the bedside table. It was three a.m. “Go back to sleep.” She dropped back on the bed, gave him her back, her heart still thudding, embarrassment swimming in her chest.

  Time passed. One minute. Two. Three.

  Ten.

  “Annie?” His voice rang soft.

  “Yes.”

  “Can you roll over and look at me?”

  She closed her eyes. “Don’t you want to go back to sleep?”

  “Please?”

  She rolled to her back, but stared at the ceiling.

  “Can I touch you now?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  He scooted close, so close she felt the bare skin of his chest against her arm. While she’d donned a silk nightshirt before they went to sleep, she was pretty sure he was naked beneath the sheet. She looked at him. He’d folded his pillow in half and placed it beneath his head so he could look at her.

  “The dream, is it the one you told me about?”

  She nodded.

  “Can you tell me about it?”

  “I already did.”

  “I know, but…it might be fresher in your mind.”

  Sitting up, she hugged her knees and told him the dream, the running, seeing the Cinderella shoes, the footsteps following her, clutching the bloody teddy bear. The voice she felt certain was Fran’s, screaming for her to run faster.

  “Then, I fell and cut my knee.”

  “Is this the scar from it?” He caught her hand that absently traced across the puckered flesh.

  “Yes. But…my mom says I got it when I fell off my bike.”

  “Do you remember that?”

  “No.”

  “After you fall in the dream, what happens?”

  “I hear the footsteps. Someone grabs me. Picks me up.” Her heart picked up speed just thinking about it. Even now, she wanted to squirm free. Free from the hold and free from the memory. Free. She wanted free from all of it.

  “Who was it?”

  “I don’t know. The dream ends. I never see them.”

  “Do you see the person burying Jenny?”

  “No, I don’t dream that. I remembered that after I went to the funeral. The dream starts with me running. Ends with someone grabbing me.”

  He repositioned his pillow, pulling her onto her side so he could see her. “Do you remember anything else?”

  “No.”

  “Are you sure?” he asked.

  Was he doubting her again? Her chest tightened with hurt. “I told you.”

  “I know. I just need to know everything so I can find answers.”

  She closed her eyes, remembering that even though they’d slept together, this was still about the case. For some reason that hurt. “I’ve told you everything.” The only thing she wasn’t telling him was how that affected her life. “We should go back to sleep.”

  “Yeah.” He kissed her forehead, tempering her frustration and confusing her heart.

  She couldn’t sleep. She lay there, curled up beside him, completely still, eyes closed, trying not to breathe too loudly. His breathing slowed, and she knew he’d managed to do what she couldn’t.

  With only silence around her, she thought about Fran. Was she being held against her will? Was she even alive?

  From there, Annie’s thoughts went to her mom. About talking to her tomorrow.

  After that bit of torture, her subconscious offered her a reprieve, because she recalled with clarity how good it had been to make love to Mark. And how wonderful it felt now, to listen to someone else breathe, to not feel so alone.

  Even if this was more about the case than them, it still felt wonderful.

  * * *

  “I’ll call him and see when he can do it,” Mark said.

  “You don’t have to do that.” Annie refilled his cup. They’d both found themselves up around six. They’d made love again, and while he showered she made coffee.

  “All I’m doing is calling someone and making sure he’ll give you a good deal. And I know he will. He owes me.”

  “Why don’t you save that favor for yourself?”

  “I saved his ass from going to prison, so he owes me more than one favor. And I’m sure he needs the business, too.” He sipped his coffee, his blue eyes staring determinedly over the rim. And there it was again. That twinkle that spoke of soft touches and seduction.

  While caught, mesmerized by his charm, she felt the bubble of unease sitting in her gut. The morning-after feeling. The nagging little voice that said this could turn out to be a mistake.

  But damn if her body wasn’t ready for a replay. Had sex always been this good, and she’d forgotten, or had her previous lovers sucked that bad? Was she fixating on the sex so she didn’t have to fixate on other things?

  “Okay,” she agreed. “You sure you don’t want some eggs?”

  “No. Coffee is great. And so was what you cooked up in the bedroom this morning.”

  Her mouth dropped open. “I didn’t—”

  “I don’t blame you. I’m hard to resist.” He laughed.

  She couldn’t help smiling. Could he see right through her? Was his teasing a ploy to make her feel better? She’d give it to him, it almost worked.

  “I’m lying.” He brushed his thumb over her lips. “Not about me being irresistible.” His grin deepened. “But about you starting it. You’re addicting.” He stood up, leaned down, and kissed her, a warm, remember-what-we-did kind of kiss. “I should go. You off today?”

  “My first class doesn’t begin until eleven on Wednesdays.”

  “You want to do lunch?”

  A part of her had been worried he might be the get-laid-and-leave type. “I only have forty minutes.”

  “How about I bring us something and we can eat in your room? A hamburger? Salad?”

  “Salad. I’ll be free at eleven twenty-five.”

  “I’ll be there.” He kissed her again. Their eyes met. Something seemed to be left unsaid. Was he having doubts? Or was he as confident on the inside as he appeared on the outside?

  “Will you call me if you find anything about Fran?” She palmed the warm coffee mug.

  “Yeah. And I’ll call you with Brad’s Auto Paint shop info.” He looked down at her. “You’re going to talk to your mom, right?”

  Bam. Dread skipped up and down her conscience. She nodded.

  “Be careful,” he said.

  “You think someone might try something again?” she asked.

  “I don’t know. But if you get a call or see someone following you, or even think they are following you, call me.”

  His sharp tone had her inhaling. “Should I be afraid?”

  “No, you should be careful.”

  Her thoughts tiptoed back to Fran.

  But crap, her life was a mess. And she was sleeping with a guy she hardly knew. A guy who until recently thought she was crazy.

  * * *

  Trying not to become consumed in regrets, Annie dressed in jogging clothes and pulled down the kitty food. She recalled worrying someone had hurt the feline. How sad was it that besides her mom, Pirate was all she had?

  Or was her mom even speaking to her? Annie felt justified in being angry, even in leaving her mom there, but being right wasn’t everything. She looked at her phone. Then looked away.

  As the Kibbles and Bits clattered into the ceramic paw-printed bowl, she wondered if she’d ever meet Mark’s dog. She recalled him mentioning he had a doggy door. So he lived in a house instead of an apartment. One more tidbit for her all-I-know-about-Mark-Sutton file. Yet she knew things she shouldn’t. Like how it felt to have him move inside her. How it felt when his mouth found places on her body that hadn’t been found in a lon
g time.

  As she put the cat food up, Pirate came around to paw at her. “I’ll be back,” she told him.

  Slipping on her cell phone arm band, she was connecting her earplugs when her phone rang.

  Did Mark have news on Fran? Freeing the phone, she checked the number. Not Mark.

  “Tell me it was great.” Isabella’s voice hinted at laughter. At friendship. Something Annie needed right now.

  “It was good.”

  “Just good?” Isabella asked.

  Annie wanted to borrow her light mood. “No. It was…” Annie tried to decide how much to give.

  “Oh, my gawd. You slept with him.”

  “I don’t know what got into me.” The confession leaked out, and she leaned against a wall.

  “Obviously, he did,” Isabella teased. “Are you sore?”

  Annie felt the slightest discomfort between her legs. “I’m…not…”

  “So you did it at least twice, huh?” Laughter exploded on the line.

  “Does that make me a slut?” Annie asked.

  “No. It makes me jealous. And I hope it makes you happy.”

  “Yeah.” There was a part of her that knew Isabella was right. Last night had been good, but…

  “Are you at the coffee shop with him?” Isabella asked.

  “No. He left for work. I’m about to go for a run. What time are you getting back?”

  “Around five. Come over then. We’ll order Chinese food, drink wine, and you can give me all the sexy little details.”

  “I might have to take my car in. But that shouldn’t take long.”

  “What’s wrong with your car?”

  “It got spray-painted.” She fought the spidering fear crawling up her backbone.

  “What?”

  “How about we talk about it later? I’m going for that run.”

  Hanging up, Annie left her apartment and took off slow.

  As her feet pounded the pavement, she headed toward the park and repeated the mantra she always did at the start of a jog, “Stay in the present.”

  Sometimes, on bad days, just the feel of running took her to the dream. Sometimes she knew she ran just to know she could, just to exercise that little bit of control she still had over her own life. The sound of her feet resounded in her head. She managed to push away the feel of being chased, and her mind went to something equally bad. Calling her mom.