by Mel Gough
His fingers never stilled. It was hard to believe how poorly he’d been only a few hours ago. The thought that he was high from the vertigo medication worried Carrie briefly.
But except for that need to touch her everywhere he could reach, she couldn’t detect any other signs. He canvassed her body in a way a blind man might, so he could store it in his memory, recall it in every detail later. The intensity might’ve been unsettling in someone else. In Lou, it went with what she knew about him already.
As he moved down her body, the sofa became confining. He tried to unbutton her pants, one foot on the floor, balancing so as not to crush her. It had to be uncomfortable, so Carrie put a hand over his. “Bedroom?”
He nodded, and pulled her to her feet. A sense of déjà vu overcame her as they entered the bedroom. Had it really only been hours since she’d been with Corey? Never before had she slept with two different men in such a short time span.
So what? Calm down. You want this. Everything is out in the open, and anyway, they don’t care about that shit. Thinking about it in those terms was liberating.
Lou seemed to read her inner turmoil in her expression. He faced her, and stroked her neck with the back of his index finger. Like he’d calm down a skittish animal. She’d never thought of herself as such, but with Lou, it didn’t bother her.
“I had sex with Corey last night.” The words blurted out before she could force them back. She bit her lip.
Lou grinned, showing his perfect, white teeth. “Like I said, Jay and I wondered about that.” He sighed. “Wish I could tell Jay.” The thought of Jay’s plight descended like a dark cloud. But Lou emerged from it, a determined look on his face. There was nothing they could do right now. “Good for Corey,” he said instead. “And lucky you. He’s great.”
Carrie forced her thoughts away from what might be happening at the police station. “Does it really not bother you?”
Lou shrugged. “No. I love Corey. I’m happy if he’s happy.” He stroked her chest.
Two out of three. I wonder if I can make the set. Jay’s hot, too. Where had that come from? Carrie blinked. Was she really considering all this, and so calmly, standing here with her boobs out?
“If you want to stop, I understand.” Lou sounded sincere. A rush of tenderness filled Carrie. He really wanted to do good by her.
“No way.” She stepped close and kissed him. He grinned into her mouth, but that soon stopped as the passion ratcheted up. His hands glided down her sides, and brushed the holster on her hip. He froze, looking down.
“Sorry.” Carrie quickly took it off. No writing desks here. So she went to the top end of the bed and pushed the gun to the back wall, out of reach of anyone’s feet.
“Does it scare you?”
Carrie glanced up. “The gun?” She thought about it. “Not scare, no. I’m mindful of it, sure.”
He looked equal parts curious and uncomfortable. Carrie went back to him and looped her arms around his middle. “We can talk about it—the gun, my job, everything. But I’d much rather do it some other time.” She pressed her groin against his. “I’m kinda distracted right now.”
“Me too.” He grinned and took her hand to lie on his erection, which, had it not been trapped between them, would tent his joggers. Carrie could do one better. She slipped her hand past the elastic waistband. He hadn’t put on boxer shorts after his shower.
His eyes rolled back and he let his head drop to one side. “God, that feels good.”
She stroked him harder. After thirty seconds he stilled her hand. “You’re gonna finish me off. C’mere.”
They discarded the last items of clothing and were soon on top of the sheets, touching and studying each other. Carrie moved close and swung her leg over his. His face, flushed with endorphins, relaxed into blissful happiness. She stroked his chest, and took hold of his erection again. “What would you like us to do, honey?”
He gnawed on his lip. “Can…can you be on top?” He blushed. “Jay likes to top, and Corey too, mostly, and I haven’t had anyone ride me in a really long time.”
It was such a simple, sweet desire, Carrie’s heart flooded with affection. “Sure I can.” She looked around. “Where are the condoms?”
Lou pointed at the nightstand, on which sat a beautifully carved wooden box. “There.” Then his eyes cleared and he looked worried. “Wait.” He rolled away from her and extracted a foil packet from the box.
Carrie frowned. “Something the matter with that box?”
Lou wouldn’t meet her eyes. His face was a deep shade of red. At last, he sighed. “There’s something else in there.”
“Something else, like drugs?”
He nodded. “It’s just weed. I meant it, we don’t touch the other shit.” He looked upset. “Man, I can’t lie to you. You’re a fed.” He gave her a pleading look. “Don’t tell Jay.”
Carrie had a hard time not to burst out laughing. “I don’t work for the DEA, Lou. It’s just weed. It’s legal in eleven states now. Let’s just pretend we’re in Nevada.” She winked, hoping to take this onto a lighter plane again. “Just don’t offer me any.” Because I might take you up on it. It would calm her nerves, if nothing else.
He laughed nervously, looking relieved. She held out her hand. “Shall I?”
“Oh, yeah.” He dropped the condom into her hand and lay on his back.
Carrie ripped open the packet. She rolled the thin film down his erection, and he crossed his hands behind his head. This bit seemed to be a favorite. She gave him a couple of strokes to smooth out the rubber, then swung her leg over his middle.
“Let’s do it.” She lowered her voice as much as she could, and leaned down to kiss him deeply. He responded eagerly, breathing hard.
She reached around and took hold of him. With deliberate slowness she lowered herself. His dick was shorter than Corey’s, but it was wide, and soon filled her up with that familiar heaviness. So far, comparing this night to the previous one had brought only guilt, but now it excited her. She almost wished Corey were here now.
When she’d taken Lou as deep as she could, he closed his eyes and gave a low groan. “Don’t…don’t move. I’m so close, one thrust and I’m gonna come.”
“I want you to come, but that’d be a bit, well, anticlimactic.” She held still, watching his face. When he nodded, she began to move her hips. She went slowly until that tingling sensation started in her belly that told her she was on the right path. She added a slow rise up onto her knees.
He placed his hands on her hips, guiding her into a rhythm. After a minute of that, he wriggled, biting his lip.
“It’s okay, honey,” Carrie whispered, breathless. “You can come.”
His eyes opened and he looked doubtful. She smiled at him, and he relaxed. “I’ll take care of you…after.”
She gave him an encouraging nod and his eyes drifted shut. He bucked his hips and she bore down, taking him as deep as she could. After a few thrusts, his lips formed a small o and he gasped. Then, with a deep groan, he was coming. His hips jerked, his breaths came hard and fast. His hands on her hips tightened.
After a minute or so, he relaxed his grip and opened his eyes. “Wow.”
Carrie rose to her knees. Mindful that his dick could be sensitive, she let it slip out of her carefully and flopped onto the mattress. She didn’t know what he liked right after, so she only draped her arm over him, giving him time to recover.
Soon, however, he raised himself up on one arm. “Let’s take care of you.” He slipped his hand between her legs, and stuck two fingers inside, finding her clit with his thumb. “That feel okay?”
“Hmm, yeah.” She stretched, bearing down on his hand. “That’s so good.”
With a beatific smiled, he began to move his fingers, increasing the pressure of his thumb. He crooked his fingers, and she gasped.
“Not too much?”
She shook her head. “God, no.” She groaned. “Don’t…don’t stop.”
Carrie coul
dn’t picture the exact placement of his fingers, but she didn’t care. Whatever he was doing, this was better than any hand job she remembered. She was slick and sweating, her pulse racing a thousand miles an hour.
“You like this?” He did the thing with his fingers again.
Carrie cried out. “Yes, yes…oh god.” Her hips jerked, her body totally in thrall to his skillful hand. When he crooked his fingers again, the thumb on her clit moving in small circles, she came with a gasp and a cry. She pulsed around him and he held his hand still, decreasing the pressure gradually until she began floating back to earth.
Eyes closed, Carrie listened drowsily to Lou moving around, cleaning up and turning off the lights. The mattress dipped as he slid back into bed. He tugged her into his arms, and she obliged happily.
“That was great,” he murmured into her hair.
“It was. Thank you. That thing you did with your fingers…man.” She shuddered in remembered pleasure. A laugh rumbled through his chest.
They were silent for a few moments, and Carrie drifted on the afterglow, tendrils of sleep grasping for her.
“I’m glad you’re here to help us.” His voice was drowsy. “I hope—”
She waited, but nothing else came. Sleep was pulling on her too insistently to follow up. So she sighed, made a mental note to ask what he was hoping in the morning, and slid into the great darkness that wanted to swallow her up.
13
Carrie woke, disoriented. It took her a moment to remember where she was. It took longer to figure out what had woken her.
The light filtering through the slit under the door flickered. Somebody was moving around in the other room!
After a heart-stopping moment her brain supplied that it had to be Jay, who was finally back from the police station. This was his suite, after all.
His suite, and his bed. Also, his boyfriend, still asleep next to her, curled up so all that was visible was a tousle of dark hair peeking from the blankets. She’d refused to think about it while making love to Lou, but now it all came back. This was too weird.
Careful not to disturb Lou, Carrie climbed out of bed. The next challenge was even greater. How to find her clothes in the near-darkness? Recalling the last few moments before they’d tumbled into the sheets, Carrie retraced her steps, slipping on the items one by one. She crouched down to retrieve the Glock from under the bed. Her coat was in the other room. Her second boot remained elusive, until she got onto all fours again and groped under the bed. She nearly gave up on the bra, biting her lip at the image her brain supplied much too readily of Jay finding it the next morning. Then, finally, her fingers brushed against it as she was getting back to her feet. She remembered grabbing it together with the silver T-shirt before they’d moved into the bedroom. She rolled it up and stuffed it into her back pocket, since she was already wearing the shirt.
On tiptoe, feeling her front to make sure she’d zipped up her jeans, and hoping it wasn’t too obvious that she was braless, Carrie made for the bedroom door. But then she hesitated. She had two choices, one as unpalatable as the other: Stay in here and hope that Jay would decide to sleep on the sofa, or face him now. She didn’t think that Lou had lied to her. Jay’d be okay with this. The question was, how okay was she? Carrie took a deep breath and opened the door.
“He’s better then?” Jay’s voice was kind of flat. He sat on the sofa, in the process of taking off his boots. A bottle of beer sat on the table.
Carrie eased the door shut. “He’s fine, yeah.”
“I didn’t mean to wake you. I was gonna crash out here, if you want to go back to bed.” Still with the flat voice, though he didn’t look angry, just exhausted.
“No, I better go back to my room.” Carrie dithered. Should she just leave it at that? “Listen, Jay...Lou and I—”
At the same moment she ran out of words he said, “Oh, hey, don’t worry about it. I’m sure he’s explained how we do things?”
“He has, some of it, anyway.” Still…
“It’s a non-issue.” That didn’t sound convincing, and maybe he noticed, because he continued, “I’m glad he’s better. Thanks for looking after him.”
A hysterical giggle bubbled up in Carrie’s throat, but she bit it back. “Did they only let you go now?” She checked her watch. It was past four. “Yikes.”
“Yep. Your detective friend had to work hard before Phil was allowed to post bail. That asshole detective who arrested me was making a huge stink. He wasn’t gonna let me go. He wanted to let me rot in that pit until I’ve seen the judge.”
Carrie’s heart sank. “So they’re going ahead with the arraignment?” She cursed inwardly. “I’d hoped those two fuckers would drop the charges.”
“No chance.” Jay rubbed his face. Sitting on the sofa, gray with exhaustion in his rumpled clothes, he’d never looked less poised and impressive. Carrie’s heart went out to him.
She’d failed in her mission. She was supposed to catch a killer, but people were still getting hurt on her watch. Instead of screwing around, she should’ve marched into that station and thrown her full authority at whoever was in charge. That’s why she’d come here, not to fuck her way through a bunch of rock stars.
Her first instinct was to go and sit on the sofa and put her arms around Jay, just like Lou had done with her a few hours ago. Unexpectedly, Susan popped into her head.
What would her partner do in this situation? Not fuck all the men in sight, for starters. But she would definitely find a consoling word for an innocent bystander who had gotten in the way of the law.
“I’ll go with you to the hearing.” The words came out of her mouth before she had time to think about it. This was the right thing to do. “I’ll meet you in the lobby at nine thirty.”
It had to be Jay’s exhaustion that made his expression soften. “Thank you.” His surprise and gratitude were palpable, and Carrie had to look away.
She turned toward the door. “Sure thing. Now, get some sleep. You’re dead on your feet.”
“Agent—” His urgency made her turn around. He looked pained for a moment, then amended, “Carrie. You and Lou, I really don’t mind.” He glanced at the bedroom door. “It works for us, has worked for fifteen years.”
She still wanted to go to him and hug him tight. She didn’t move. But she smiled, and inclined her head in acknowledgement. “Don’t wake him.” With that, she was out of the door.
On the way to her room, Carrie couldn’t get Jay’s words out of her head. It works for us. Would it also work for them if Jay joined in next time? Forcing away the heat that thought created in her belly, she summoned the elevator.
Undressing for the second time that night, she chucked her phone onto the bed. It blinked with several messages.
Fuck. She’d turned it to silent without noticing. The messages were from Flick. The first one read,
Hey boss. Had a look yet at what I sent you? And the second one, I guess a G-woman deserves a night off too. Seriously, though, look at what I sent!
He’d also left her a voicemail. Not like Flick at all, to get hot under the collar about stuff. Carrie stabbed at the voicemail icon in irritation, a lump of dread forming in her gut. How could she have forgotten to check her phone?
“Agent McDonald? Hey, sorry to keep bugging you. But I think I found something real important. The car was a rental. I had a feeling it might’ve gone AWOL, so I ran the VIN through the NCIC, and bingo! The fucker was parked in a deserted spot that also turned out to be a no-park zone. The traffic cop who reported it noticed that the passenger seat looked like it was drenched in something, so he had the thing hauled in. It’s currently sitting in a San Antonio lot waiting for forensic analysis. I let them know to expect you as soon as you can arrange it. I’ll text you their number. Thought if we save them some useless run-around they’ll be more obliging with the details. All the intel is in the email. Call me when you’ve had a look.”
The killer had rented a car to use as a butchering place.
Swearing under her breath, Carrie cut off the voice message and went into the email app. She scrolled quickly, at the same time stepping back into her boots. When she’d finished reading she forwarded the email to George, then dialed his number.
“Yeah.” He sounded groggy when he picked up on the fourth ring.
“George, we got a suspect.” Carrie let her door fall shut. “Get a team together. I’ve sent you all the details. We’re going to San Antonio.”
14
“Let me come with you.” Lou tugged on Jay’s sleeve. “You shouldn’t be alone in that creepy place.”
Jay sighed, catching hold of Lou’s hand and squeezed. “I won’t be alone. McDonald is coming with me.” If she ever shows up.
He checked his watch again. It was past ten. They were cutting it close to get to the courthouse for ten thirty during the rush hour.
Lou’s shoulders slumped. He’d been shy around Jay since they’d woken up and hadn’t said much until now. Jay scowled. He’d had about four hours’ sleep, and that weird, guilty behavior was irritating the fuck out of him. Corey had come to their suite for breakfast but kept his distance while throwing Jay covert looks. What did they think would happen, that he’d attack them next?
The fucked-up thing was that it might be a distinct possibility. Being in that hellhole of a cell, even for a few hours, had frazzled his nerves. Jay’d showered twice since returning to the hotel, but the stink of piss and cheap cleaning products still stuck in his nostrils.
Irritated, he pulled his phone out. He couldn’t be mad at Lou, or even Corey and Phil, who’d stuck around until he was finally granted bail in the early hours. They all just wanted to help. But McDonald standing him up like this…
Jay scrolled through his numbers. Before collapsing into bed, he’d saved her in his phone, just in case. He’d spent ages looking for her card that he knew she’d given them, finally finding it in the pockets of one of Lou’s discarded pairs of pants. Only then had it occurred to him that he could’ve asked Lou for the number in the morning. He scowled, annoyed with himself all over again. And why did Lou behave so guilty over fucking the FBI? Hadn’t they moved past that long ago?
