A Reason To Breathe (21 page)

“Sorry, won’t happen again.” Jack sucked a breath through his nose on “sorry,” and then slammed his mouth on mine. His tongue parted my mouth and then he bit my bottom lip, pulling back and then letting it go.

“I’m gonna fuck you into submission.” He explained, and I figured he could try, ‘cause I sure as hell wouldn’t stop him. Bucking my hips, I put my foot to the bed and rolled him to his back. Lifting the t-shirt up and over my head, Jack’s hands came to my breasts, his thumbs grazing my tight nipples. Throwing my head back at the sensations, while he weighed and played my breasts like a pro, pinching then rolling, till I was riding his stomach for friction. He then moved to grab my waist, and I reversed my position giving him my back. Looking over my shoulder, Jack raised an eyebrow then put his hands behind his head
. Such a cocky bastard.
I leaned over and without any prelude, sucked his hard length into my mouth, taking him all the way to the back of my throat.

“Christ.” Jack groaned, as my mouth slid back up his cock. I wrapped my hand lower on his length and pumped in rhythm with my mouth. His hips lifted as I came down, using as much suction as I could. “My turn,” Jack growled and grabbed my hips, then pulled my legs out from underneath me, and my dripping sex to his mouth. I paused my movements as his tongue found my clit, then moved in quick bursts, sending an electric shock through my body. Two fingers joined his mouth, and it was all I could do to remember what I’d been doing. I licked his crest then whimpered as Jack’s fingers hit my sweet spot, making me buck. Next thing I knew, Jack had me on the bottom, and his mouth buried in my folds, licking, tasting and driving his fingers in till I clamped down around them.

“Ride that out, Baby,” Jack growled and I did as he said, while he pumped me over and over bringing me back again to fall off the edge into erotic bliss.

Relaxed from the massive release, I couldn’t raise my arms, but I didn’t need to, Jack turned me on my stomach, grabbed my hips and thrust in, seating himself and then rolling his hips. I found my arms again, pushing up and then back with each brutal thrust. Hands at my hips, fingers digging in, Jack slammed into me like he was branding me.

“You want it dirty and hard?”

“Yes, Jack.” I answered; my voice barely heard above his breathing.

“Who do you belong to?”

“What?” I whimpered.

“Who.” Pound. “Do.” Slam. “You.” Roll, thrust. “Belong to?” Jack demanded to know. That was easy to answer, as far as I was concerned; Jack owned my body, and what was becoming apparent to me, my heart.

“You Jack.” I acknowledged out of breath. He yanked me up, so my back hit his chest, wrapped his arm around me as my head slammed into his shoulder. Warm hands moved from my hips, up my sides to my breasts and then both thumbs and forefingers found purchase on my hard nipples, pinching hard and pulling, sending a shock to my core.

“Hold on, Baby.” Shaking my head, ‘cause no way I could last, but bossy Jack didn’t like no. “Almost there, hold the fuck on.” It was too much of everything, his hands, his large size; I was overwhelmed with sensations, and I whimpered my regret. Jack knew how to bring a woman pleasure, and if he wanted me to hold on, he shouldn't be so damned good at turning me on. I turned my head to find his mouth, and his tongue dove deep, igniting me even more and I exploded. I clamped down around his cock, and that was all Jack needed. He brought us both over together, grunting out his pleasure in my mouth, his arms tight around my waist, almost to the point of pain.

As we started our descent, Jack moved his mouth to my neck, and breathed me in, as his thrusting slowed to a tender caress. His hands moved over my body, like a blind man trying to identify an unknown object, feeling his way, memorizing my curves.

With one last kiss to my neck, he fell back to the bed taking me with him, and then proudly told me.

“You’re great with your mouth.”

“Ditto.” I panted.

Rolling off, I turned and laid my head on his chest, running my fingers up and down his stomach. Jack pulled me up higher, wrapping me up and kissing my head. We lie there for a minute before Jack asked me what I knew he had to.

“Talk to me about what the killer said again.” Rubbing my cheek on his chest. I thought back to last night, closed my eyes and heard his whispered voice in my head.

“He said he thought I was his Annie, who had come back from the dead.” Rising up on an elbow, I looked at Jack and asked, “Do you know anyone who’s lost a girlfriend or wife named Annie?” Jack was silent, thinking as he ran his hand over my hip.

“It’s not ringing any bells, but this guy might not be from around here, so the death may have taken place in another state.” Nodding my agreement, I tried to think of anyone I knew who’d mention losing someone.

“You should call Ben and Gerry. They know everyone around here; they might know, or Lorraine?”

“I’ll call them once I get to the station…. Now, let’s talk about what you’re doing today and where?” I thought about my schedule and remembered I was meeting with the organizers of the haunted house to take a tour for the article I would write. I looked at the clock and then bolted upright; it was already 7:45 and I was meeting them at ten.

“Shit, I have to get ready.”

“Not until you tell me where you’re going.”

“I have an interview and tour of the haunted house. They opened it in the old gold mine. I hear it’s really scary; you want to come, keep me safe from all the ghouls and goblins?” I giggled, and Jack grabbed my arm, pulling me back down.

“Did I tell you your giggling is a turn on too?” What? I’d been trying to stop from giggling all week around Jack. Seriously? Swear I’ll never figure this man out. Giggling is a turn on; sorry is a turn on... I wonder if arguing is a turn on? If so, we’ll never leave the bed.

“I’ll remember that,” I answered, and bit my lip to keep from giggling. Jack grinned, and I melted, then I remembered the time and pushed up, “Let me up, I have to get ready.”

“I want you to call in when you get there and to call before you leave. I want you to go straight to your office after, and then straight over to the station when you’re done. I don’t want you to come here without me, and I don’t want you near your cabin till this guy is caught. If I figure this out while you’re out today, I’ll call you so you'll know to keep an eye out.” There was so much in that command to argue about, but I promised last night to follow his orders till this guy is caught, so I’ll do that for Jack…even if it killed me.

Pushing up on my hands and then off the bed, I stared down at Jack then like he and so many of the men in this town have done all week; I put two fingers to my forehead a saluted him.

“Smartass.”

“Bossy.”

Jack bound from the bed, bent at the waist and picked me up, smacked my ass and carried me into the shower… and I was giggling the whole way.

*
                            *                            *

Jack

        “Grady, find Barry and Phil, we’ve got a lot to go over. Tell them to meet here in an hour for a meeting.” I was heading out the door when I shouted at Grady.

“And call Ben, Gerry, and Lorraine Beckett as well, let’s see if these old timers know more than I do.”

“On it Jack.” Grady replied and then headed back to his desk, and I turned to make my rounds.

*                            *                            *

        Arriving back at the station an hour later, I headed to my office and found the FBI profile on my desk. Sitting down with my coffee, I started skimming it. Our killer fell into the “Gain” category of serial killers. Christ, these sonsabitches have different categories? “Based on the information you have given us and the evidence obtained, your killer is a white male, 25-55, maintains a job but unlikely to work in an office due to his tendency to fixate on women. He is need driven, for money, an object or person he sees as valuable. This person of interest will not be of financial means and more than likely lives in squalor. He has no problem making friends of his own sex, but will fixate on women he finds desirable. He may observe from a distance, but more than likely situate himself in a position of confidant with those he fixates on.” My heart started pounding when I read that last line. My eyes snapped to the clock, and I knew Jenn had left for the haunted house already. I picked up the phone and called her number, but got no fucking answer.
Goddammit, can’t she follow directions for one fucking day?
Jumping to my feet, I grabbed my keys and gun then headed to my door. As I turned the corner, Grady was walking towards me with Lorraine and Ben in tow, and I lost it.

“Tell me you didn’t do this to her?” I shouted in anger, my hand going to my gun.

“What in the hell are you talking about?” Ben replied.

“I’ve got a profile in my hand that all but points to you. Now look me in the eyes and tell me you didn’t do this to Jenn,” I roared.

Keeping my eyes on him as I made my way closer, still trying to process this gentle old man could do this to Jenn?

“Son if you’d take the time to calm down you’d know it couldn’t have been me, I’ve got arthritis in my hands and if the guy you fought the other night was the killer, then I’m about 75 pounds too heavy. Now what in Sam Hill are you going on about?” Ben calmly answered. I searched his face for the truth, and saw nothing to indicate he was lying. Taking a deep breath and trusting my gut, I turned to my side and indicated with my hand they should enter my office. Once they were in my office, I stood behind my desk and watched Ben as he helped Lorraine sit and then lowered his own body slowly into the chair. Christ there was no way this man could have attacked me. I looked between the two of them and then asked, “Where’s Gerry?” ”He’s out on the river, had a group come in two days ago and hasn’t gotten back.” Deciding to move on and pick their brains like I intended, I didn’t explain I just started asking questions on the fly.

“You know anyone in town who was ever married or had a girlfriend that died by the name of Annie?” I watched as both of them thought, but neither seemed to hit on the name.

“What’s this got to do with the killer?” Lorraine inquired.

“The killer went after Jenn last night, stabbed a man in the back. The killer indicated he’d lost someone close to him, and her name was Annie.” Shock and anger passed over their faces then Ben jumped in.

“You said the profile fit me, what did it say that makes you think it was me?”

“Said the killer would be easy for men to like and that he either would obsess over Jenn from a distance, but more likely to situate himself in a position of confidante.”

“Can I see the profile?” Ben asked, so I handed it to him and watched his face as he read the same description as me, and as he read; the color drained from his face.

“Merciful heavens.” Ben whispered.

“Talk to me old man.”

“It can’t be, he loves her.”

“Who loves her?” I roared.

“Gerald, this is him right down to the living in squalor.”

I closed my eyes feeling relief we might have a name, pain at what this would do to Jenn, and sadness for Ben
. Jesus, this fuck, tried to give me advice and warned me away from Jenn.

“His wife died.” Lorraine whispered her own face in disbelief.

“He told you that?” I barked.

“Years ago when he first moved here, I remember him saying he was escaping the loss of his soul mate. Said, he had to get away from the memories. He even left a son to be raised by her parents.” I turned to Grady and gave him a nod, indicating I wanted Gerry brought in.

“Ben do you have Gerry’s full name so I can run his information?” Ben, still lost in thought, looked up and answered me.

“Gerald Marcus Walker, age fifty-four.”

“Gerry’s fifty-four?”

“Years in the sun aged him ten years, we always joked about him looking my age and not his own. We even laughed, oh, god…we laughed when Jenn said we didn’t make the list of possible killers because we were both too old. I didn’t correct her because I knew he was innocent. I, I mean I thought he was…that son of a bitch,” Ben shouted. “He tried to kill my Jenny? He tried to kill her?” He asked, confused, still trying to make sense of it. He turned to Lorraine and in a voice full of pain tried to explain himself like somehow we blamed him for Gerry’s betrayal. “I promised I’d keep her safe. I spent sleepless nights watching over her before you came in the picture, Jack.” His last statement hit me.

“It was you in her window that night?”

“Yes, dammit it was me, I’ve worried about her since she moved here. She reminds me of my first girlfriend, the one who got away. Something about Jenny makes me want to protect her, so I’d go up in the middle of the night when I couldn’t sleep and checked on her. Then the killings started, so I went every night.” I studied him then asked, “You throw a bird through the window?” Ben’s face grew angry, and I knew the answer to that question. I held up my hand to stop his outburst, when Grady walked back in.

“Jack, called Scenic River Tours and they said Gerry hasn’t been on the river since Tuesday.” I bolted from my seat and grabbed my gun, then handed Grady the paper with Gerry’s name and said, “Run this.” Then I grabbed my phone and headed down the hall towards the front of the station, just as the Mayor walked in with a Council member. Fuck me, I did not need this right now.