She had the depressing feeling that the term inconclusive was going to be a catchphrase when it came to Patel. Which wouldn’t lift the big black cloud hovering over her father’s name.
The only thing they knew for sure was that Patel had tased Mason and knocked him out, attacked her, and then gone for his gun when Rhys had confronted him.
There were still so many things they didn’t know.
“Has anyone figured out how he found the house?” she asked. That particular question had been bugging the hell out of her. They’d been so careful. Taken every precaution. There was no way he could have tracked them there. So how had he found them?
Rhys shrugged. He wasn’t nearly as frustrated as she was by the lack of an answer to that question. But then he didn’t need it for a book.
She growled beneath her breath. So annoying.
“Give it a rest, honey.” That amused gleam was back in his eyes. “Coincidences happen. He could have seen Mason drive past on the way to a pay phone and followed him back to the house. Coincidences happen.”
Her lips tightened. Not in her books.
When her cell phone buzzed, she glanced over.
Ashley. The name scrolled across the diminutive screen. She turned the phone over.
“You’re going to have to talk to her eventually.” His voice was such an odd mix of comforting and exasperated.
Maybe, maybe not. Maybe never.
“I’ll let you talk to her,” she retorted. “You seem to be doing that a lot lately.”
She knew Rhys had told Ash what had happened. Had told her sister that Ariel knew. Knew everything.
The rage and shock hadn’t faded so much as they’d congealed. Lodged inside of her like a sticky, ugly quagmire of betrayal and love and grief and rage. How she would ever unravel that mess, she didn’t know.
For now, she was ignoring it.
And distracting herself from it…
Cue distractions…
Turning thoughts of betrayal and family off, she turned around, crawling onto Rhys's lap and straddling his thighs. When she settled back down, she deliberately and slowly rubbed herself against the huge bulge pressing against the zipper of his jeans.
“I believe we were interrupted last time,” she whispered against his ear, before grasping the bottom lobe with her teeth and tugging. “Can I have a repeat?”
“No.” He anchored her against him and rose to his feet. “No repeats. I’ve no intention of stopping this time.”
He didn’t ask her if she was sure, or give her a chance to change her mind. Nope, her man knew her too well for that. Instead he walked her to the bed and dropped her on the mattress, following her down. She sighed in contentment as his huge, hard body covered hers.
His fingers were rough as they slid into her hair. She shivered against him, welcoming the thrust and parry of his tongue, the way his hard, hot body pressed her into the mattress. It had been so long, an eternity since she felt him against her. Oh, how she’d missed this.
Oh god, how she’d missed him.
Suddenly desperate for the feel of his bare flesh against her, she ran her hands down his spine and under the hem of his T-shirt. He lifted his torso to give her access, but then his hands took over and yanked the shirt over his head.
That was fine with her. She wasn’t territorial when it came to getting him naked.
“Turn about…” His voice trailed off as he opened the first button of her blouse.
But then he didn’t need the rest of the cliché…not when his hands were doing such a good of proving his point. When his fingers fumbled the second button and then the third, he growled. The sound traveled from his chest through hers and shot straight to the moist, aching flesh between her legs.
She squeezed her legs shut and rocked against him, trying to ease the urgent flush of need.
“Fuck.” His voice turned guttural.
“Please.” She rocked against him, reinforcing her urgent demand.
That seemed to break him. He gave up on the buttons in favor of ripping her blouse open with one hard yank. Buttons flew everywhere, pinging against her face.
No matter…she had other blouses.
She wasn’t wearing a bra. Because of him. Because she’d remembered his lack of patience and his obsession with her breasts. Why he was so focused on them was something she’d never understood.
They were small, they were firm, they were breasts.
“You remembered.” His tone went from tender to hungry, in the space of those two words.
“Of course, I remembered.” She reached to stroke his cheek as tenderness filled her. “I remember everything. Everything about you.”
The blue eyes gazing down at her filled with warmth, with life, with love. She could see the love there, like she had all those years ago. He’d never tried to hide his feeling for her.”
She wrapped her arms around him, as he worked her nipple with his mouth and his tongue. After a few seconds, his mouth slide a up her collarbone, leaving a string of stinging nips behind. She tensed, the heat rolling up and over her. When he reached her the side of her neck, he took the flesh between his teeth and tugged, then sucked hard.
She arched against him, a shrill grasp breaking from her. Her hands lifted to clamp his sides. Her breasts had never been particularly sensitive. But the right amount of pressure, to the right spot on her neck, could launch her like a firecracker.
“I remember too.” His voice was guttural again.
With quick urgent hands, he unbuttoned her slacks and dragged them, along with her underwear, down her legs. After doing the same to his own, he moved back to her neck for another nibble and suck. She gasped, arching again, her legs winding around his bare hips as she frantically rubbed herself against his rigid cock. She hung there, straining, balanced on the razor's edge of the precipice.
And then he joined her with a hard thrust, and then another, pounding into her—until he drove her over the edge.
Dimly, she heard herself scream and his grunting groans. And then the wave rose up and swallowed her, dragging her down into euphoria.
Fingers stroking her cheek brought her back to awareness.
The blue eyes watching were dark, darker than she’d ever seen them and twice as solemn.
“I love you. I never stopped.” He didn’t beat around the bush, just handed her his heart…again.
“I love you too.” She smiled up at him, feeling the wobble to her lips. “One thousand percent.”
He laughed and rolled onto his back, dragging her onto his damp, hot chest. “So what are we going to do about this?” he asked squeezing the globe of her ass.
She thought about making some smartass sexual response, but it was a valid question, so gave it some though. “I can write anywhere.”
“You’d sell your place in Denver and move in with me?” There was surprise in his voice, as well as the eyes that scanned her face, as though he hadn’t expected things to move quite so fast.
Or…maybe he hadn’t wanted things to move that quickly. A shadow of uncertainty rolled through her. “I mean, if you want me to.”
He didn’t let the silence build, or the uncertainty remain. Instead he drew her down for a long, slow kiss.
“Absolutely, by a thousand percent.” He whispered against her lips.
She smiled back, feeling the softness of his lips against her mouth. The sense that she’d finally returned to her home flooded her. Along with the sense that she’d found another anchor to ground her to the universe—maybe even the most important anchor of all…
Thank God for midnight callers, and sudden trips back home, and second chances.
Sample: Dark Secrets (Book Two)
DARK SECRETS
Dark Falls, CO Series
Book Two
By Savannah Kade
Blurb:
When Grace Lee storms into the Dark Falls Police Department, heads turn. But she only has eyes for Detective Nate Ryder—the officer who closed her b
rother Jimmy’s case too quickly, declaring his death a suicide rather than a murder. As a forensic scientist, Grace thinks the signs are obvious, the trick is convincing Nate.
* * *
Nate has to admit Grace’s argument makes a lot of sense, and he feels obligated to revisit the case. The problem is, while he’s following the old evidence, she’s collecting new samples—and putting herself in danger from the same organization that killed her brother. Jimmy was definitely onto something before he was murdered. Now, Nate has another worry: some of the new evidence Grace has found points back to members of the Dark Falls PD.
* * *
As strange coincidences turn deadly, Nate has to become Grace’s protector. They don’t know who they can trust and who they can’t. Will Grace and Nate be the next victims in a massive cover-up? Or can they figure out which cops are dirty fast enough to stay alive?
* * *
Excerpt:
Grace didn’t usually spray luminol and pull out her black light when she entered a motel room. But today she held the light up and frowned at the blood revealed by the generously applied chemiluminescent.
Old blood was everywhere. Small spots peeked out from under the edge of the bed where the old polyester blanket touched the carpeting. It looked to Grace as though something had happened in that spot and the bed had simply been moved.
In one corner, another streak of luminol glowed cautiously, the remnant of a merely passable scrubbing. Some of the luminescent spots revealed that her suspicions had been correct about the old carpeting, about this motel room, and about the stains.
Crap. This was the last thing she needed. She’d requested this room specifically. She didn’t always spray Luminol and pull out her black light when she rented a room. Then again, she couldn’t recall ever renting a room this awful in her life. She could imagine Jimmy here, though. If he was on one of his serious benders this would be nothing. Unfortunately, that meant there was nothing obvious here that supported her theory about her brother. She’d have to wait for lab results.
“Oh, Jimmy,” she lamented out loud to the dark room. “What did you get yourself into?”
The way her heart clenched couldn’t be stopped. No matter what the room looked like, no matter what she might be able to prove, none of it would change the facts. Jimmy was dead. Gone, after a life that had been a struggle from the beginning and continued to be one well into adulthood. Grace blinked back the tears that threatened.
Many people didn’t know what it was like having an addict in their lives. They were lucky. Addicts stole, they lied, they betrayed. And they often left you with only one option—completely cutting yourself off. She hadn’t been able to do it. Neither had her parents. So they’d all suffered alongside her little brother.
But, dammit, she’d really thought these last five years had seen a turnaround. He’d been clean and four months shy of his five-year chip. But the Dark Falls Police Department had written of Jimmy’s death as just another junkie overdose. Case closed.
Grace wasn’t buying it. Jimmy wasn’t using again. She knew it. She’d spoken to him just a few days before he died.
No one would believe her. No one did. Even her parents were skeptical, but she believed. She’d lived with Jimmy, and watched him turn to alcohol at age ten, then cocaine at thirteen, she’d gotten good at spotting the signs. Lots of siblings did. Sometimes parents tried to deny it. They turned their kids away, or they made up excuses and always believed the best. But siblings of addicts had a radar for it. Their investment was entirely different from a parental bond.
Grace knew. She’d talked about it in Al-Anon meetings. She’d gone steadily for almost two years, then off and on for another handful. The siblings of addicts all had similar stories. They knew. They could tell when their brothers or sisters were using again. Grace couldn’t count the number of times someone had showed up at a meeting with a suspicion, then even several months later said, “I was right.”
She’d had that feeling about Jimmy before. It happened the first time he’d gotten clean. He’d stayed clean for six months before relapsing. The second time—after their parents had paid to put him through an expensive rehab program—he’d stayed clean a year and a half. But Grace knew that his eighteen-month chip was an excuse to celebrate, to think he’d been cured only to have him slide back. But she didn’t have that feeling. Not this time. The third time seemed to have stuck.
Jimmy had moved to Dark Falls, something their mother had protested with every fiber of her being. He should be close to home. Part Vietnamese, part Chinese, and gay as the day was long, Jimmy wanted to get out of the South. Grace understood. She’d supported him. They texted daily, and she talked to him just a few days before he died. She did not believe he was using again.
She’d even demanded a full autopsy. She checked off her mental list as she looked around the room at the various splotches her quick test had revealed. She’d want samples of them all. Jimmy’s death was listed as an overdose. Had there been fresh blood, the police wouldn’t have been able to write it off so easily.
Grace had only pulled out the Luminol on a whim when she’d seen the dark patches in the carpeting. It could have been wine or cheap beer, but her senses told her to test it. Shit. She looked around behind her, holding the light up. A lot of it was faint, old, but she needed to know what it was.
She had her work cut out for her.
After gathering samples from at least five spots around the room—samples that she highly suspected would be all different—she turned off her black light and clicked the regular light back on.
Surveying the horrible room she didn’t want to be in, she pulled out her phone and called her oftentimes partner, Brad, back home. “Brad, I was right.”
Buy Dark Secrets Now
Sneak Peek: Dark Nightmares (Book 4)
Dark Nightmares
Dark Falls, CO series
Book Four
By Becca Jameson
Blurb:
Nicole Salway left Dark Falls eighteen years ago with no intention of ever returning. Destroyed beyond repair, she closed that chapter of her life for good. But nightmares have plagued her for two decades. Nonsensical nightmares that have kept her from leading a normal life. The Dark Falls police department failed her as a young girl, but now she’s a detective herself, and her hometown needs her help. Returning to the place where it all began could crack open her past and leave her raw and exposed if she’s not careful.
* * *
Mason England isn’t fond of going undercover without his usual partner, but the state has assigned one of their own detectives to help solve a horrific murder. After all, the victim is the governor’s daughter, and all evidence points to a local club. Mason’s temporary partner takes his breath away the moment she enters the precinct. But Nicole is a conundrum. She guards her secrets close, so close that Mason realizes no one has ever penetrated her walls. .
* * *
Sharing her past with Mason, or anyone, isn’t an option. Nicole does not date. Ever. But Mason is persistent and patient. As Nicole’s past unravels, threatening to destroy her, Mason just might prove capable of grabbing the pieces as they fall and putting her back together again.
Excerpt:
* * *
Nicole had been a detective for six years. She’d worked undercover more times than she could count. This was the first assignment that completely threw her off her game.
Thank God, Mason seemed nice enough that he would do his best to ensure she was comfortable, but she really didn’t like putting herself in situations where she was inferior to a man. Ever.
He was picking her up from her hotel any minute now, and she was pacing like a sixteen-year-old about to go on her first date. He had said she could wear whatever she wanted, but he’d also implied she might fit in better if she showed a little skin. Apparently, there would be people there wearing anything from jeans and T-shirts to expensive sexy corsets and short tight skirts to…complete nudity.
She shuddered and rubbed her arms for the millionth time. She was a grown woman for heaven’s sake. A detective. She could handle just about anything. Blood. Dead bodies. Active shooters. Masked gunmen. Car chases. Heights. The list was long. It didn’t include fetish clubs.
Until tonight.
At exactly midnight, a knock on her door made her jump. She shook her arms at her sides and took a few deep breaths before peering through the peephole and then opening the door.
She hadn’t thought much about how Mason might be dressed, but she was pleasantly surprised to find him in black jeans, a black tee that hugged his pecs to perfection, and black loafers. He’d showered recently. His hair was still damp, and as he stepped into her room, she could smell the clean scent of his soap and shampoo.
If this were a date, she would consider herself the luckiest woman alive. He had been attractive from the moment she’d met him, but tonight he was smoking hot. And that smile… The way he looked at her with slightly narrowed eyes. The air between them sizzled and she hadn’t even let him inside the room yet. For several moments, it was impossible to remember this was not a real date. It was a job.
Damn. She needed to avert her gaze, school her expression, and shake the wandering thoughts about what his chest might look like from her head. She was on a job. She never ogled men at work.
Never.
As a rule, she didn’t date anyone she worked with, not even people from another department. Of course, Mason was from another city, so in the long run, he didn’t count. But, looks aside, he had several strikes against him.
He was apparently at least somewhat into BDSM. This would never fly with her. He was a detective. She didn’t like to date men who were in her field. It left her feeling like they were in a power struggle. And finally, the guy lived in Dark Falls. That was four hours from Denver. It was also a town she never wanted to return to on a permanent basis.
Dark Legacy: (Dark Falls, CO Romantic Thriller Book 3) Page 17
