The Killing Times (An FBI Romance Thriller (book 1)) (57 page)

“All the time,” he said
, continuing his way to the other side of her neck. “Just like every other full-blooded male in the world. Why?”

“I was a cheerleader and in case you’re interested, the outfit still fits
. I saw it in the closet upstairs in my old room.” Now she had his full attention, his whole body hardened beneath her. It was that power that made her want to push him further and further, like a drug. She slid her hands into his hair and pulled him towards her, to control the kiss. It was hot, erotic, and he moaned into her mouth at what she promised was to come.

He slid his own hands to her ponytail and set it free, lots of curls dropping around her shoulders and down her back.
Just the visual of her in a cheerleading outfit drove him incredibly crazy. Moving fast, he flipped her off his lap, so she was trapped beneath him on the couch; it was her turn to moan, as his mouth made a trail down her neck to the v of her shirt.

And then it happened.

His phone rang and they both paused.

“Oh my God, someone hates me,” she laughed, as he sat up off her body, and gave her the look. It was the apologetic one that said ‘
blame the job’
.

“Blackhawk,” he answered, watching her grab the wine bottle and move to the bottom of the stairs. She put it down and pulled off her t-shirt, tossing it at him. Standing there in just her unbuttoned jeans
that were riding low on her hips, and a lacy bra that barely contained her, she was making it damn hard to concentrate. He tried to focus on the person talking on the phone.

“I’m going to go get into bed,
Ethan. I’ll wait for you. If you don’t show up, I will start without you,” she insinuated and then laughed at the look on his face. Taking the wine, she headed to their room.

                            *   *   *

The killer watched the house through the scope of his rifle
and prayed the FBI agent would exit at some point. The minute he did, he was dead. It was time to strike at the heart of the sheriff, with one perfect shot to the man’s brain. Now if they both exited, then they both would die.

But the Indian
had to go first.

S
he needed to see the end result of her witchery.

He wanted to watch the look on her face, as her husband crumbled to the ground, dead.

He would wait them out. It was still early and if they didn’t come out by morning, he would have to find a pawn to draw them out into the open. The voice always advised to have a plan B, and this time he did.

                            *   *   *

Blackhawk scribbled some details down on paper, and contemplated his options. He could go upstairs, climb into bed with his sexy wife or run out to the station. The state police were bringing James Dansforth there. It wouldn’t take too long, just a few hours. Then he remembered the day they had, and he made a decision he normally wouldn’t and it surprised even him.

“Tell the stat
e police hold him until morning. One of our guys will come pick him up. I’m buried in paperwork here.” He hung up the phone and redialed his team to give them pick up instructions.

Then he tossed the phone on the couch, and ran up the stairs.

Tonight was going to be about Elizabeth and nothing was pulling him out of the house until morning. All that he could think about was her in the cheerleading outfit.

Yeah, tonight was going to be about making up after their fight.
It was time for his wife and his newly found personal life to take center stage.

It wouldn’t kill him to be a husband first.

Elizabeth was pretty sure he’d come upstairs, but then again, he was a work-a-holic, so it was fifty-fifty. She lit some candles and slid into some lingerie she had bought, but never had the chance to wear.

All that was left to do was wait.

Sitting in the center of their bed with the wine bottle in hand, she hoped her husband would find her. When Elizabeth heard him scramble up the stairs, she grinned in accomplishment.

Score one for the wife, work zero.

The look on his face, as he rushed through the door, was priceless.

There she sat in the
center of their bed in some black see through concoction and a wine bottle. He thanked the sex Gods, that he made the right choice. “You waited for me.” It was a statement, and his voice held surprise.

“Of course I did, I can’t start the party without you,” she leaned over, putting the wine on the bed stand and patted the bed next to her.

He rushed at her, not even thinking twice. He barely managed to unclip his gun and badge before pinning her beneath him. She smelled amazing; she must have put on something from one of the glass bottles on her dresser. If possible, he wanted to smell nothing but that all day long.

“Now
husband, where were we?” she purred, sliding her leg up his thigh and licking his earlobe, pulling gently with her teeth.

“I was getting
undressed and you were promising me some easy sex with a cheerleader,” he answered, trying to concentrate, but she had busy hands, and they were everywhere.

“
Oh, was I? Well, I guarantee that this cheerleader would have climbed all over you in high school, especially once she saw the tattoos,”

Blackhawk was still picturing it
and the room was getting really warm.

“Let’s get you
undressed.” Elizabeth pushed him from her body, so he stood beside the bed as she hopped off.  She slid his shirt off his shoulders, leaving little openmouthed kisses across his back. Her fingers trailed across his muscles and tattoos, and she enjoyed feeling every curve of his body. It was delicious. As she moved to the front of him, she continued her exploration.

“Mmmmmmm, Lyzee baby,” he whispered, loving his wife’s hands sliding across his body.

“Very sexy, Mr. Blackhawk,” she replied, pulling his mouth down to hers and kissing him deep. It pulled another moan from him as proof he too, was thoroughly enjoying it.

Her hands worked on the buckle of his belt, and then the button and zipper
. When his pants dropped with ease, he stepped out of them, preparing to pull his boxers off too. “Let me help you,” she whispered as she slowly lowered herself to her knees, tugging them down while her fingernails teased him the entire way. Elizabeth made sure her eyes never left his as she shared a promise of what was to come.

“Lyzee,” he whispered, as he watched mesmerized. She simpl
y blew air across his erection and it hardened and bobbed by her face. “You're killing me, baby!”

“I haven’t touched you yet, Ethan,” she grinned, wickedly. “Want me to?”

“Please,” he begged, his mouth going dry.

E
lizabeth stroked him with her hand and then ran the tip of her tongue across his erection. It was obvious that she was driving him wild and testing his control. Elizabeth moved to the base, and with one long lick had him involuntarily shuddering. “More Ethan?” she asked, looking up with large, innocent eyes.

“More Lyzee
,” he pleaded, unable to stop watching her.

She took him in her mouth
.

A
ll of him.

Elizabeth
slid him in and out, worshiping him as he was helpless to watch the eroticism of what his wife was doing to his body.

She was
absolutely bewitching.

Elizabeth
never broke eye contact, speeding up and slowing down, until his hands found her hair and he controlled the depth. Now he was pleasuring himself with her mouth, making her take him deeper.

Elizabeth was overheating as she watched her sexy husband’s face. It was one of pure bliss and rapture.
She was definitely breaking out the cheerleading outfit next time. If thinking about it was getting him this hot, seeing would make him burn up.

Blackhawk
forced himself to make her stop, or he wouldn’t make it. A man only had so much control, and she was causing it to fray quickly. His wife had a wicked mouth, and he again thanked the sex Gods that she was all his. As he pulled away, he helped her stand, pulling her to her feet and lifting her onto their bed. It was his turn to feast on her, and he planned to go slow and make her beg.

Ethan
didn’t even remove the lingerie she was wearing. He could see the outline of her erect nipples through the material, and he placed his mouth over the first one, biting gently with his teeth. She writhed under his lips and ran her hands through his hair. He moved to the second one and did the same, enjoying when his wife arched into him as he continued the torture. He worked his way down her body, dying to plunder and take what was waiting for him. Blackhawk forced himself to move slow and steady. As he pushed the lingerie up, he found the tiniest scrap of lace and fabric, barely covering her. It made him wild and he refused to pull it off. Instead, he slid it to the side to sink deeper into her body.

Elizabeth was squirming
under his mouth and his tongue. He was driving her insane and tormenting her body. She felt herself growing wetter and tighter, and knew she would be shattering soon.

With one more lick
and a little bite, she shook and the inevitable happened. As she broke apart, he moved quickly, before her orgasm was over and while she was still sensitive. Driving into her body, he found his way home. The feeling was delicious, as she quivered around him. Ethan dropped down onto his elbows, his lips by her ear so he could whisper all the things he never thought to say to any other woman before. She wrapped her arms around him and then her legs, tipping her hips at every thrust, so he could have access to the deepest part of her.  When she started to shake again, he felt it move through him.

“Oh Go
d, Lyzee, so good,” he murmured as he allowed himself explode deep inside her.

“I love you,
Ethan.” Elizabeth stayed wrapped around him, as they both drifted asleep together.

“I love you too, baby.” That moment he made another
pledge, one she wouldn’t hear, but the most important one of his life. Quite possibly, it even surpassed their marriage vows. Ethan would keep her alive, no matter what.

Even if the final price was his own life.

In that moment he knew that he would die for the woman who owned his heart.

~
Chapter Seventeen ~

Early Friday
Pre-Dawn

He stood there in the woods, moving closer to the house to inspect it. He had travelled this path before, navigating it in the pitch blackness with ease. Although there were lights on in her home, when he looked through his scope, he saw no motion. They had gone to bed, and he would have to leave. They would be no departure from the house tonight and that meant he had to find leverage to get her out in the open and to him. It looked like the FBI agent bought himself another day of life, for now.

The voice wanted a showdown, and he knew that there was one name remaining on the list
that was left in town. He would be the bait to catch the second sheriff. She would come for the last person and risk her life almost admirably. By nightfall, he would have cleansed the town of another woman with no morals.

Elizabeth Blackhawk
’s hours were numbered.

It was time.

“See you later, Sheriff,” he snickered, slinging his gun over his shoulder and walking to the bait’s home to get ready for what he had planned.

They had a date with destiny.

Early Friday Morning

She woke early,
only to find that her husband was dead to the world. She remembered being like that right after a week of an assignment. Elizabeth stood, stripping from the lingerie that still carried the scent of her husband’s body and cologne. Now she would change into more appropriate clothing, even though she’d miss the scent of him.

Gone was the desire to sleep and back was the need to
once more study their information. There was that tickle of awareness that she was missing something, and she needed to wrap her brain around it. With a light kiss on his cheek, she tucked strands of his hair behind his ear, just enjoying the way he slept on his back. He looked so peaceful and her heart filled with love for the man. There was that overwhelming feeling of awe whenever she looked at him, and she felt truly blessed to have found him.

Eliza
beth tiptoed down the stairs and to the files sitting on the table. It was getting harder to fight off that feeling of desperation to solve these murders. Justice needed to be found, and she needed to locate the thread to pull it together.

                            *   *   *

He knocked on the door, knowing the man would let him into his home. Doc Trudeaux was a very nice person and sadly that would be one of the reasons he was chosen. Well, that and he shared a name with one of the wicked from Salem. He waited patiently until the door opened.

“My boy, what
’s wrong?” he asked alarmed as he saw him standing there. “It’s barely six in the morning.”

“I’m sorry, Doc, but I needed to talk to you. Can I come in?”

“Yes, absolutely!” Doc turned his back walking away from him, and it would be the last thing he would remember until he woke tied up and ready to die.

He moved fast as he incapacitated the man.

“I’m sorry Samuel Trudeaux, but you're my bait. Yours is the final name on the list.”

                            *   *   *

Blackhawk stirred and once again she was gone
. All that remained was the scent of her perfume on the sheets. He was starting to get used to waking alone, but it was becoming somewhat irritating. He really wanted one morning to catch her warm and ready for him, and to make love to her until they both woke together.

Touching her
side of the bed, he could tell she’d been gone for a while. Her pillow was cold and it no longer held the indentation of her head from rest. Blackhawk reached for his phone and realized he left it on the couch.

His first priority would be a caffeine fix, before he started his day. Ethan
threw on his jeans, skipping the shirt, because he knew it might lure her back into his arms. As he padded downstairs to find his wife, there was this feeling brewing deep within his gut. It was all coming to a head, and today the bad vibrations were filling his body. There was this uneasy feeling stirring about him. He’d felt it many times before, and often at the end of an assignment. Rarely was his gut wrong, and it was telling him one thing.

Something was coming
.

Elizabeth stared out the patio window. On her back porch sat the largest, blackest raven she had ever seen in her life. It watched her with beady black eyes, uncaring of her approach.

She’d seen it before
.

It
was an exact replica of the tattoo on her husband’s chest, except its wings were spread and this bird just sat there on guard. Elizabeth opened the door and still it didn’t move. It remained stationary, watching as if waiting for her. Another step, and yet still nothing. Standing motionless, both woman and bird sat transfixed in each other’s company.

Elizabeth
couldn’t help but feel like it was trying to tell her something.

She had never had the privilege to have one this close to her before,
and she was mesmerized by the inky black feathers. They reminded her of her husband’s eyes, not quite black but in the light, a midnight blue. She took another step closer to the bird, testing the boundaries and wondering why it chose today to make its visit. Was this some sign?

It had to be, since she didn't believe in coincidence.

Blackhawk grabbed coffee in a desperate attempt to wake. As he walked to the open patio door, there was the immediate rush of alarm. He could see the tank top his wife was wearing, and that meant there wasn’t a vest protecting her body. His heart skipped a beat and then two. Before he could make a comment, he saw why she wasn’t moving on their patio.

Outside the glass door stood his wife and a
large raven.

All the stories of his youth rushed back to him,
the heritage he worked so hard to bury so deep fought to resurface. The raven was a messenger and a harbinger of the Gods. Part of him wanted to believe it, and part of him wanted to call it coincidence. Pushing hard into his past, he tried to remember the words of his grandfather depicting the majestic raven.

The bird was the watcher of battlefields. It would soar over war and strife, claiming those
who were to cross into the other side of the Great Spirit world. Now he felt sick, thinking this bird was here to tell them something ominous.

He wouldn’t believe it, he couldn’t.

It was coming for his Elizabeth.

Blackhawk
forced his mind back to when he was eighteen. At that age, he believed himself to be bad ass and tough. In a moment of stupidity, he had gotten the raven inked across his body. Needing something so defiant and over the edge, he went with his childhood nickname and picked the mighty bird that called to him. Ethan’s heritage was struggling to the surface, trying to warn him that change was coming, and he could feel it in the air.

Inadvertently, his hand rubbed the
tribal tattoo on his one bicep. It was the one with his family symbols and feathers. Even two thousand miles away, his past had found him, and now it had found Elizabeth too.

A
s he stepped onto the patio, he fully expected the bird to fly at his arrival. Instead, it simply stood transfixed. Its beady black eyes were watching his wife and ignoring him. It cocked his head, blinking once and then stepped cautiously towards her.

Oh God, please no!

To Blackhawk’s horror, she reached out her fingers and touched the side of the raven, as if petting it. When she spoke to the bird, he wanted to scare it away; all of this unnerved and terrified him.

“Why are you here
?” she whispered, shocked it allowed her to stroke it. “Are you here for me?” she asked, unaware her husband stood behind her.

With a loud caw
, the bird gave its reply before spreading its beautiful wings and escaping to a tree high above. It sat just out of reach, but still staring down and watching them. Elizabeth turned, finally sensing her husband behind her. The panic stricken look on his face said everything that she needed to know. The terror was now plastered across his face in tension and worry lines.

“It’s an omen, isn’t it?” she asked, not one to believe in things she couldn’t touch, but this raven was real
. She’d felt the cool, inky feathers with her own fingers and it rattled her. “I usually don’t believe in such things, but I feel like I’ve just been warned.”

Blackhawk
didn’t have an answer for her. What he rationally believed and what he was taught growing up in his culture were doing battle in his heart and mind. In that moment, he had that feeling again that something was brewing and it didn’t bode well.

Going with his gut, he gave her his initial response.
“I’m torn on whether it is or not,” he said, pulling her into his body, protectively. “I woke feeling off, and the raven means a change is coming,” he said, clinging to his wife out of desperation. “My grandfather once told me when the majestic raven crosses your path that a message is being sent to you from the spirit world.” There was no way in hell he was telling her about the raven soaring over battlefields of death.

“I hope it’s a good message,” she said, softly. “Is that why you got the tattoo?”

Blackhawk continued to eye the large bird in the tree. “My grandfather gave me the nickname of Raven, when I was a boy.”

“Why a raven, Ethan?”

“A few times I saw them in my dreams, and often they turned up around me. In my heritage we pick a spirit guide that we can relate to, and I just always saw them everywhere.”

Elizabeth thought back to her own dreams with the ravens asking her name. Now they made sense.

Maybe there was validity to this dream thing.

Now it was time to tell her the embarrassing part about his past and family. “
My grandfather is very old school. He believes in spirits and such. He once had a dream where I was being followed by the raven and it became part of me. I was told to always behold the raven and its message. So, when I see one, I don’t forget what he told me growing up as a boy,” he paused. “I know it’s silly but it just stuck.”

“I don’t think it’s silly,” she answered truthfully. Elizabeth knew his past was painful, and she offered him reassurance. “And the tattoo?”

“The tattoo was something I did in a moment of impulse with someone that was part of my past. He got his spirit guide and I got mine.” Blackhawk didn’t elaborate, that part of his youth wasn’t up for discussion yet.

He wasn’t ready.

Elizabeth was staggered by how much she didn’t know about him. “I think when this is all over, we need to have a discussion. I just realized I don’t know anything about your life or your heritage. I should know everything, as your wife.”

Blackhawk
knew it had to happen, and she deserved to know but now wasn’t the time. “As soon as we clean up this mess, and we decide what to do with our careers, it’s on my list.”

“Okay,
Ethan.” Elizabeth would give him this for now, because he had let her tell him about Ray when she was ready.

“I won’t let anything happen to you, Elizabeth,” he
swore, desperation in his voice. He hoped and prayed he could keep his word to her. He watched the bird sitting in the tree high above her house, as it sent a silent message. He returned the message that he would give his own life for hers and she was off limits.

“I believe yo
u, and I’ll keep you safe too, Cowboy.” She tried to lighten his mood, since he suddenly looked somber. “Your phone’s been beeping like mad,” she added, hoping to distract him as she led him back inside.

“Was it?”

“Yes. That reminds me. Who called last night before we went to bed?” she poured herself more coffee.

“They found Dansforth
yesterday. He was caught when they pulled him over for speeding,” he answered, holding out his cup as she refilled it.

“I don’t know if he’s guilty yet,”
Elizabeth said, “but I know how the killer did it.”

Blackhawk’s attention was jerked back
to his wife. “Please don’t tell me the raven told you,” he said, hoping he could find humor in it, but then he remembered back to the year of prophesizing dreams that led him to her. Maybe he shouldn’t be so fast to discredit his grandfather and his words. After all, he just watched her pet a giant raven on their patio.