Colton's Killer Pursuit

by Tara Taylor Quinn

  Her phone pinged: a text message. Probably her mother. She’d already called twice, and texted, too. Other than one call that morning, Everleigh had ignored the rest. She’d thought the party was lovely. She’d told her mother so. And that she loved her.

  Her mother was seeking immediate forgiveness. She wanted things to be back the way they’d been. That wasn’t going to happen. And Everleigh needed time to figure out the rest.

  But, because it was her mother, and because Everleigh loved her, she glanced at her phone. And frowned.

  “What?” Clarke’s tone was urgent. Sharp.

  With a glance in his direction, she said, “I don’t recognize the number.” And then felt the blood drain from her as she opened the message.

  If you want to live, disappear now. Leave the state. Forever.

  She tried to read it to him. Her throat was too dry, and she coughed instead.

  He took the phone. Read the message. And, tires squealing, immediately wheeled around.

  * * *

  Back at his condo, Clarke had locked all the doors and windows. A series of officers patrolled the block as part of their nightly run. Everleigh hadn’t argued at all when he’d nixed the visit to her place. She hadn’t put up any fuss with any of the decisions he’d made since the threatening text had come through on her phone.

  To the contrary, she’d been more subdued than he’d seen her yet.

  Leaving him with a stringent need to make things better for her.

  He’d called Melissa as soon as he’d seen the text. Ellie had confirmed what he’d already suspected; the number had come from a disposable burner phone, maybe even purchased right there in Grave Gulch. Officers were out questioning all establishments that sold burner phones in the past week, hoping that something would pop. They’d already vetted the third woman on his list of Fritz Emerson’s lovers. She had admitted to having an affair with Fritz a few years before, had provided airtight alibis for the past week and the time of Fritz’s murder, and was married with a baby on the way.

  He had a client in dire danger and no suspects.

  He also had planned a night of passion—which he couldn’t keep—with a woman he had the hots for. And he couldn’t leave his condominium...

  The only way out was to find Fritz Emerson’s killer before he did something he’d regret with the man’s sweet widow. He made phone calls. Searched databases. Had Fritz’s gym records sent over and started poring over them. Somewhere someone had missed something, and his job was to find it.

  And then he had to get on to helping find Len Davison and Randall Bowe. He had to help Grave Gulch PD and his family get their house back in order.

  And maybe find a woman to hang with for a minute or two while he got over Everleigh Emerson.

  She’d heated up lasagna for dinner. Brought a plate in to him. He didn’t offer to come out and eat with her. Or invite her to stay.

  Darkness had fallen, making it night. But he was not going anywhere near her. He’d never wanted a woman more in his life. Not even when he’d been a randy teenager and hadn’t been with one yet. A fact proved out by how quickly his penis became erect when the knock came at his office door just before nine.

  Damn!

  He’d pegged her for going quietly upstairs if he didn’t show himself.

  “Come in.” He wasn’t standing up from the shield his desk offered his lower body.

  “I don’t want to interrupt while you’re working, but I have something I need to discuss with you.” Everleigh came into the room as invited, standing in front of his desk like some recalcitrant schoolkid. Still in the jeans and sweater she’d had on all day. Her curves were stunning.

  “I’m going to my place tomorrow to go through Fritz’s den like we intended to do today,” she told him. “You’re welcome to come if you’d like, but I’m going.”

  She wasn’t. Not until he knew she could do so and stay alive at the same time.

  “I’d go now, but it’s dark out, and that would be plumb dumb.”

  He nodded. He could give her that one.

  “Either I’ll find something that will let us know who’s doing this, or whoever it is will see that I wasn’t intimidated by the warning and will show herself when she comes after me.”

  Right. That last part. That was why she wasn’t going.

  “It would be best if you were there, because of that second option, and better still if we had some police backup close by. But no matter what, I have to go. Sitting around waiting for something to happen... It’s not good.”

  “It’s better than being dead.” He wasn’t pulling any punches. Her life was at stake.

  “The plan’s solid,” she said. “Use me as the decoy and we find the killer.”

  He met her gaze. Didn’t like the quiet resolution he saw there. She should be afraid.

  “You honestly think you’re going to walk back into that house and take on someone who not only murdered your husband—if we’re even right to assume it’s the same person who killed Fritz—who’s managed to ransack your home numerous times, almost ran you down, shot at you, and never left a trace for anyone to find? You think you’re going to win that fight?”

  “I just know I have to try. I’m not only our best shot. It’s beginning to look like I’m our only one. This person’s determined. He or she isn’t going to stop and isn’t following any rules that anyone in your business can figure out. It’s like they’re possessed.”

  Her calm tone got to him, the words she spoke even more so.

  He hated them to his core. But she was right.

  “If we do this, and that’s a big if, then we do it my way,” he told her.

  She nodded. Eyes open wide, staring straight at him. She had no artifice. Nothing to hide. Another thing he loved about her.

  Loved. Whoa. No. Just an expression.

  One he wouldn’t use again. Not in his private thoughts. Not in his dreams.

  Never. Ever. Ever again.

  He’d known Everleigh only a couple of days. Of course he didn’t love her. He needed to get his head together. Quit making an issue out of an expression.

  “I’ll get organized with my sister, make sure we have backup. You’ll need a bulletproof vest and a wire. I choose the time of day. The entrance. And you agree to follow every command I make while we’re engaged in this endeavor.” He sounded like an ass. On purpose.

  “Fine.” She turned to go.

  He was home free for the night. Free to worry about taking her home to a possible death trap the next day.

  And then she swung back, agitating his penis all over again. “Thank you,” she said. She didn’t smile, but he saw the softening in her gaze. In her features.

  He nodded.

  She left.

  He’d made it through most of the night already.

  Keeping her alive the next day would be a cakewalk compared to the hours he’d just spent, holed up in his office, afraid to trust himself to act like the decent man he was trying so hard to be.

  Chapter 16

  She didn’t have anything to wear but jeans, sweaters and flannel pajamas in her suitcase. Would you dress sexy for a one-night stand? She supposed the question, while typical of her, was kind of dumb. Depended on the person. And the night.

  Her panties were silk and low cut because she liked how they fit and felt. Her bras...more like something a grandmother would wear. She needed the support, too.

  The bra came off. Sweater back on, the synthetic wool a little raspy against her nipples. Exciting her a little bit. The jeans...they were stretchy, but tight and wouldn’t just slide off. No getting stuck in them that night. Having to pull them off by the ankle.

  They had to go.

  Which left her standing there in silk panties and a thick sweater.

  Looking like a dork...with some pretty nice legs.<
br />
  She tried the flannel pajama pants. Didn’t go with the sweater. Took it off. Topless didn’t work, either. Too bare.

  Unless... Taking off the pajama pants, she stood there in her panties. Liking what she saw. Touched her breasts for a second, loving how they tingled at the thought of Clarke’s hands on them. And, turning off all but the soft lamp on the bedside table, slid under the covers. That was the answer.

  Wait for him, almost naked, under the covers.

  Fritz had always said men liked unwrapping their women in theory but didn’t want a bunch of fixtures and cloth slowing them down.

  He’d liked her in nightgowns and panties.

  In eighteen years of marriage, Everleigh had never slid beneath the covers wearing only a pair of underwear. It felt...naughty.

  Sexy.

  And fun.

  Right until she dozed off and suddenly came to, realizing an hour had passed. A glance at the clock told her it was almost midnight. She’d figured Clarke would be working late.

  But...what if he’d looked in on her and thought she’d changed her mind? Heart pounding, and not in a sexy way, she sat upright. Surely, he hadn’t thought she was rejecting him? Had he changed his mind?

  She couldn’t lose this night.

  The darkness seemed ominous, even with the muted light on. Hours stretched empty before her. The next day loomed, bringing possible harm to her.

  Someone was serious about wanting her dead.

  Someone who’d already succeeded in killing without getting caught.

  She needed her fantasies to become reality. Being in Clarke Colton’s arms, having him moving inside her... After tonight, those memories would be her happy place. The moments that would carry her through.

  And if she didn’t make it past tomorrow, she’d at least have known ecstasy once in her life. She wouldn’t have died without living fully.

  She couldn’t believe she hadn’t heard him open the door. She’d always been a light sleeper. More so since she’d been in prison. Just hearing Clarke come up the stairs had awoken her the other two nights she’d been in his home.

  Maybe he was still downstairs working.

  Or...maybe he was waiting for her to come to him?

  The thought, once it occurred, brought relief. And a sense of rightness, too. Clarke wasn’t like Fritz. He wasn’t a man who thought only of himself. To the contrary, he made his living by thinking of others nonstop. Getting to know them, good or bad, figuring them out, so he could succeed in whatever mission he’d been given.

  And his current mission was keeping her safe. Gentleman that he was, he wouldn’t have come to her door, seeking what she’d offered.

  He wouldn’t push.

  He’d let her do the seeking.

  And the finding.

  Or...change her mind without another word said.

  Sitting up, she threw off the covers. Pulled on just the shirt of her pajamas to ward off the chill, but leaving it unbuttoned.

  She opened her door quietly, snuck out into the hall. And down a couple of stairs, checking to see if the light was still on under the door of Clarke’s office. And when she saw that it wasn’t, she made her way quietly back up the stairs and down the hall toward his door.

  It was shut, but not latched. As though he’d left it for her to push in if she so chose.

  Everleigh wasn’t completely sure who she was as she pushed on that door. She didn’t hesitate. Didn’t feel the least bit shy. She might not recognize herself, but she knew for certain what she wanted.

  She couldn’t hesitate. She was standing on the brink of what could be her only chance to know what it felt like to be fully alive.

  She knew, a second after she pushed open the door, that he was still awake. It was like she could hear him stiffening. Her gaze sought his as she approached the bed. This was a onetime thing, but she realized the night probably wouldn’t end without more than just their bodies connecting.

  She hadn’t been aware of that, but when it came to her, it seemed as though she’d known all along. Clarke Colton was a once-in-a-lifetime man. She didn’t just want his body. While she was with him, she wanted all of him.

  And he was looking straight at her.

  * * *

  His worst nightmare and his greatest fantasy were coming at him all at once. Those long legs in his bedroom, walking toward him. The flannel shirt, unbuttoned, teasing him with glimpses of the luscious, unbound breasts...

  He tried to swallow. Managed a gulp. Had to tell her to turn around and run. Couldn’t get enough air and moisture in his throat to make words come out.

  Or didn’t have the brain waves to make it happen.

  Either way, he lay there silently watching her approach, his body standing at attention, saluting her.

  “It took me a while to figure out that you weren’t coming to me,” she said softly, wearing a smile that kicked him where it hurt the most. “I appreciate the consideration and hope I didn’t make you wait long...”

  She was almost at the edge of the bed and he hadn’t lunged at her yet. If he could keep himself stiffly in place, tell her to go...he’d be home free.

  Even as he had the thought, he knew full well that he was already home, and nothing was free.

  She reached for the edge of the covers, was going to pull them back. He was strangling himself and couldn’t stop her. So...

  He helped her. Holding up the covers while she slid those long legs beneath them. Next to his. Smooth skin to his rough.

  And he knew he’d lost the battle.

  * * *

  Clarke’s lips met hers before Everleigh even had her butt on the mattress. Pulling her down to him, he settled her body against his and proceeded to wipe every thought from her mind except him. What he was doing to her. The touch of his skin beneath her hands. What was coming.

  His hunger fired hers, consuming them both, and yet he was gentle. So, so gentle. Taking her on a slow path to ecstasy. She wasn’t even thinking about the culmination. Every touch of his hands and fingers, his lips, every movement she made on him... They were all the goal. And all filled with more physical excitement, more sensation than she’d ever known.

  His tongue laved her nipple and she flooded down below. He kissed her neck, just below her ear, sending tingling sensations all the way through her.

  She’d been well taught by Fritz how to please a man, but had never known that she could be physically moved while doing so. Just the roughness of Clarke’s chest hair against her palm made her shiver. His back...his tight butt...all of it drove her further and further into a state of need that had only one destination.

  Further.

  More.

  When her hand found his hardness, moved there as she knew would bring him the most sensation, he moved with her, against her, making it as much about her as it was his own pleasure. She grinned. And gave him more.

  They didn’t speak. There was nothing to say. But when she started to feel a bit adrift, a soul alone within the body he was pleasuring, all she had to do was look at him, and that intent blue-eyed gaze of his would sear her soul, bringing her right back to him. With him.

  Even when it came time for the condom, he kept her engaged, her fingers helping him as he teased between her legs.

  He kissed her, hard, his tongue dueling with hers, and as he groaned, she spread her legs, letting him in. The first time he slid his tip inside her, she glued her mouth to his, sucking in air and then holding it. He made it home with one long, slow thrust and then moved a bit. Just little adjustments. Settling in. And touched her most erogenous zones some more. Softly. Teasing her nipple, he pulled out some and then pushed back in. Kissed her.

  Had her going crazy for need of him. This man didn’t stop. Didn’t let her stop. He was everywhere, titillating every part of her. She’d never known anything like it. He didn’t
move from part to part on a downward cycle and then pump and be done. He continued to pleasure all parts of her and took the rest slow.

  Until one last, deep thrust when they both cried out. She pulsated around him as he pumped his seed and their hearts pounded into each other, breast to chest.

  Her arms clasped tightly around Clarke, Everleigh rode the waves and then relaxed with him on the mattress, still joined, still holding each other. Breathing together. In shock.

  Wanting more.

  They’d said it would be one and done. And she’d meant it. Still needed it that way. But one didn’t have to mean one coupling. It could mean one night.

  That thought was the last on her mind as she drifted off to sleep. And was still there sometime later when they awoke and made love a second time. And then, later, a third.

  They never spoke with words. Just with looks. With touch.

  And for the one night they had, it was pure magic.

  * * *

  Clarke always awoke with the dawn. Didn’t matter if he’d had eight hours or ten minutes of sleep, light seeping in through the blinds got him up. That Sunday morning was no different.

  He stretched as consciousness came to him, even before opening his eyes. And he remembered.

  Moved minimally, checking to see how far away the second body in the bed had moved during sleep, only to discover himself with plenty of room.

  Eyes open, he glanced on both sides, confirming what his legs had already told him.

  He was alone.

  A mixture of disappointment and relief swept through him. Relief won out.

  If not for the lingering floral scent in the sheets, he could almost convince himself that he was as unentangled as he’d been the last morning he’d woken up in that bed. Would really like to believe that he’d just had the sweetest, most incredible wet dream any man had ever experienced.

  After throwing off the covers, stripping the sheets from the bed and, still naked, putting on a fresh pair, he traipsed into the shower and stood there for another few good long moments. Get rid of the evidence and wipe the night away.