After Love (16 page)

Jamie didn't hesitate but returned Nick's kiss with a ferocity that assured him she approved of his decision. Her arms wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer. Her soft breasts smashed against his chest, and the bulge of his erection pressed into the softness of her body.

Her tongue slipped inside his mouth and tangled with his. She moaned, and he felt it vibrate all through him. When her hips started grinding against him, Nick's knees nearly buckled. He didn't want to take her on the dirt of the arena with the cacophony of dogs reacting to their cries of passion. Instead he swept her into his arms and carried her to her room. Harley followed them inside, and when Nick kicked the door shut, the dog curled up against the wooden barrier. He wasn't sure what was going on with his people, but he was there to protect them from intruders.

Nick set Jamie on her feet, and they quickly stripped off their clothes before tumbling onto the narrow bed, once again locked in an embrace. Their lovemaking was hot and frantic. With almost no foreplay, Nick plunged inside her, urged on by the wetness that welcomed him. The old bed creaked beneath them with every thrust. The iron headboard thumped against the wall in a tribal rhythm. With no one to hear them, neither Nick nor Jamie cared when their screams echoed through the small room as they reached simultaneous climaxes.

For the first time ever, Nick wondered if a woman's orgasm was as explosive and mind-blowing as a man's. While he was a considerate lover, he'd never really thought it a possibility that the woman was enjoying it as much as he was. But as he looked down at her beautiful face, which was still relaxed in a state of complete bliss, he knew without a doubt that their coupling had been every bit as satisfying for her as it had been for him. That was a staggering thought.

She'd already made it clear that all she wanted from him was sex. But he hadn't really believed her. All the women he'd been with had always wanted more. He didn't know what it was about the female brain that seemed eternally programmed to believe in happily-ever-after. He knew it only happened in fairy tales and romance novels, but women bought into the myth, hook, line, and sinker.

Jamie was the exception. She knew fairy tales didn't come true, and if they came close, they were sure to end badly. That should make their relationship a lot easier.

As Nick lay next to her, his dick still inside her warmth and his arms around her, holding her close, he was overwhelmed by the realization that he didn't want to let her go. Not just tonight, either. He could see hanging out with her for many years to come. In fact, the thought of her being intimate with anyone else reawakened a possessiveness he had thought was gone forever.

Unconsciously he tightened his embrace, pulling her even closer. Jamie stirred and scooted backward, putting a little space between them. The bed was only a single, so she didn't have far to go, but the slight gap was more of a symbolic separation than a physical one.

Nick propped his head up on one elbow and studied her, trying to memorize every inch of her body. He wasn't used to feeling so insecure in a relationship. As a bit of a control freak, it wasn't in his nature to let someone else call the shots. He should take back his man card and just walk away.

But he couldn't. He didn't know how many more hours or even minutes she would give him…and he wasn't willing to relinquish even one of them.

Her eyes were closed, but he couldn't resist touching her. His fingertips skimmed over her skin, barely brushing it, following the curve of her neck down to her collarbone. Lightly his fingers trailed down the deep, sensual valley between her breasts before moving to one of her nipples. Barely brushing the pink tip, he circled it until she arched her back, encouraging more attention to the swollen bud.

He ignored her directive and applied the same gentle attention to her other nipple before stroking down the shallow ridge of her abdomen, tickling her navel and making slow, lazy circles around her stomach, which sucked in beneath his fingers.

She reached down and grabbed his hand, trying to control his movements, but he continued on his trek, moving his fingers lower, teasing the lips of her femininity before caressing the tender nub between them. Jamie was writhing now, her head rolling from side to side.

“Tell me you want me,” he whispered, his fingers still rubbing her.

She sighed, a long, ragged rush of air. “I want you,” she breathed, her voice husky.

“Tell me you need me.” Even if she didn't mean it forever, he wanted to hear her say it.

“Oh, yes…I need you. Now. Please.” The last word came out in a gasp.

Two of his fingers slipped inside her and her juices flowed out, pushing him past his own point of resistance. He removed his fingers, replacing them with his throbbing erection. He had the satisfaction of being momentarily in total control, but now it was time to let his animal instincts take over.

Nick buried himself inside of her, pausing long enough to savor the total pleasure of feeling her warmth wrapped around him. He pulled out just far enough so he could kiss her lips, doubling the delight of tasting her at the same time his dick was in her most intimate center. She kissed him back, slowly, sensuously, her tongue moving in and out of his mouth, fucking it as thoroughly as he was fucking her below.

“Oh shit!” he exclaimed as the rush of passion made him get down to business more quickly than he would have liked. He pushed all the way in, then fell into the natural rhythm that pulled them both into the whirlpool of sensations ending in a blast of fireworks so intense that for almost a minute he didn't breathe. He had barely been able to wait until Jamie had climaxed before he lost touch with time and space.

They floated back to earth together, both too exhausted to move away. With her head resting on his shoulder, they lay on their sides, facing each other, their legs still laced together, and fell asleep in each other's arms.

The theme from
The Walking Dead
woke Nick. Completely disoriented, he lifted his head and looked around. Oh, right…he was in Jamie's kennel apartment, and they had had the world's best sex. He glanced at the nightstand, but his phone wasn't there. Blessedly, it stopped ringing, and Nick lowered his head back to the silken pillow of Jamie's hair. His hand was cupping one of her breasts, and his morning erection was pressed against her leg. He couldn't think of a single reason he wanted to move from this spot.

Overhead, the ceiling fan hummed. Early-morning light poured in the window around the small air-conditioning unit that struggled to cool the already-hot Texas day. He was just about to doze off when his phone started playing the familiar TV show theme again.

Damn!
Whoever was calling must be determined to reach him. He eased his arm out from under Jamie's head and crawled out of bed far enough so he could reach his jeans, which had been discarded on the floor. He pulled his phone out of one of the pockets and swiped the screen to answer it. “Archer. This had better be good.”

“Where have you been?”

“What? Who is this? Bobbi?”

“Another kid died last night. We've got an interview set for ten in the box.”

“Attorneys?”

“Of course.”

“Shit. I'll be there.” Nick sat on the edge of the bed, his head hanging down.

“Duty calls?” Jamie asked, stirring behind him. She didn't seem surprised.

“Yeah, I've got to go in.”

“Of course you do.”

He twisted around so he could look at her. “You know I'd rather stay.”

“I've heard that before.” She pulled the sheet up to cover her nakedness, effectively creating a barrier between them.

“I can come back afterward,” he offered, wanting desperately to recapture the magic of the night.

Jamie shook her head. “No, it's better if you don't. Jared and I have our veterans' class today, and I need to work with the dogs.”

He wouldn't beg. He wanted to, but that was definitely not part of his personality. “I had a great time last night.”

“So did I.”

Harley stood and stretched.

“You'd better hurry,” Jamie added. “Harley needs to go out, and I'm sure your boss is watching the clock.”

She left him no option. He pulled on his clothes and shoes, then leaned over and kissed her. He was a little surprised that, considering the mood she was in, she kissed him back, tenderly and deeply. When he straightened, he thought he saw a tear on her cheek, but she turned her head away, so he couldn't be sure.

“Let's go, Harley,” he said, not bothering to pick up the leash that was still attached to the dog's collar. “Bye, Jamie. I'll call you.”

She didn't answer as he left the room.

Harley walked next to Nick's left leg as they turned the corner to the monitor room at the DEA regional office. Bobbi was waiting at the door, her face reflecting the fatigue and stress of this latest death.

“What's up?” Nick asked.

“Another student died. We've got two kids in the box….One brought his lawyer. How's Harley's training going?”

Nick weighed his answer. They hadn't exactly gotten around to the dog's training, but Bobbi didn't need to know that. “He's ready to go.” Nick opened the door to the observation area and held it open for Bobbi. They each sat in a chair in front of the two-way mirror that allowed a clear view into the interrogation room. There was a table in the middle with three chairs facing the two-way mirror and two on the opposite side. A speaker was suspended by a post from the ceiling, and cameras were mounted in every corner. On the table was a control box with a microphone.

“Who's asking the questions?” Nick pointed to the floor at his feet, and Harley obediently lay down.

“Karla and Adrian,” Bobbi answered. “I brought them up to speed with your investigation.”

Nick nodded his approval, then turned the volume on the speakers up as the door opened. A male student entered the interrogation room, followed by a man in a suit, carrying a legal pad. Karla and Adrian came in last and shut the door firmly behind them.

“Sit down,” Adrian said, and they all did.

“Please be advised that this session is being recorded and, if you cooperate, you will be eligible, at the judge's discretion, for immunity from prosecution concerning the apparent drug-induced death of Jessica Turner, age twenty, a student at UT,” Karla stated.

Nick grabbed the box and hit the red button. Karla glanced at them through the two-way mirror, her eyebrows raised. It was unusual to stop the interview before the first question had even been asked. Nick pulled the microphone toward him and switched it on. “Does he know a student named Bane?”

Karla gave him a “shut up” glare, then turned back to face the student. “Sorry for the interruption. Please state your name.”

The student answered. “Jason Carey.”

“And for the record, Jason's attorney, Dan Morgan, is also in attendance,” Karla continued. “Jason, do you know the student Jessica Turner, who was rushed to the emergency room last night and was subsequently pronounced dead?”

“I do.”

“Do you know what drug or drugs Jessica had taken last night?”

The attorney shifted in his chair but didn't object.

“We were all sitting around smoking some loosies.”

“Do you know where those loosies were purchased?”

This time Dan
did
voice an objection. “Jason has no personal knowledge of where the loosies were obtained.”

“Dan, listen,” Adrian said. “We're giving Jason a get-out-of-jail-free card, all right? All we want to know is where these bad drugs are coming from so we can prevent another kid from dying. We're not implying that Jason is selling, and we don't give a shit whether or not he's using the product…as long as he understands the great risk he's taking with his life. Okay?”

Dan considered the situation before nodding for Jason to answer the question.

“Not exactly. There were five of us, and we all shared our stash. I know some of them were buying from this guy downtown on Sixth Street.”

“Was there a student named Bane with you last night?” Karla finally asked.

“Bane? Yeah, he and Jess were together…sort of. Why?”

“No reason…Just trying to connect the dots.”

Adrian took over the questioning. “This dealer on Sixth…Have you ever seen him?”

“No.”

“Have you heard his name from Jessica or Bane or maybe another one of your friends?”

Jason sat there and thought about it for a moment. “Not that I recall. There's so many guys that sell this shit, you know?”

Nick triggered the microphone again. “Ask him what flavor Jessica was using.”

“Jason. Do you know what flavor Jessica was smoking?” Karla asked.

Jason's eyes filled with tears as he thought about the dead girl. “Jess loved strawberry. She always traded with everyone so she could stay with strawberry all the time.”

Adrian followed up. “Does the guy on Sixth Street sell the strawberry-flavored loosies?”

Jason shrugged. “Man, I don't know. I don't usually have the scratch to buy my own, so I bum off everyone else.”

“Anything else you can add that would help us…anything?” Karla asked.

Jason frowned as if concentration was an effort. “Don't think so.”

“I think my client has told you everything he knows,” Dan said. “Are we free to leave?”

Karla and Adrian glanced back at the window, and when no one spoke up, Adrian said, “We're through for now. Please let us know if you plan to leave the area.”

“If Jason comes up with anything, I'll call you. Here's my card,” Dan said as he stood up.

Jason followed his lead, and they exited.

A minute later Bobbi and Nick entered the box. Karla turned the microphone off to prevent anyone outside the room from hearing their discussion.

“What the fuck, Nick?” Karla exclaimed. “I hadn't even started and you gigged me?”

“Tuesday after class I was at a porch party at Bane's house with a girl named Jess…Jessica, the dead girl.”

“Fuck, dude, that's heavy,” Adrian commented.

“Looks like we move this downtown, then,” Bobbi said.

“We should split up,” Nick suggested. “I've been in all the bars in the area.”

“I'm sure you have,” Bobbi commented drily. “As soon as we finish interviewing the next kid, we'll go to the conference room and divvy up the real estate on the map. Nick, you stick with the college. Sounds like you just missed this one, but sooner or later someone will drop a name, or you'll stumble on something.”

If Nick hadn't known that Bobbi liked him, he would have taken that as a slam.

Nick called Jamie as he was driving home later that afternoon. The meeting with the team had taken much longer than expected, but hopefully Jamie would understand. Her phone rang once, twice, three times, then went to voicemail.

“Hi, Jamie. We just got out of our meeting, and I'm heading home to catch a nap before the party tonight. I probably won't stay past midnight. If you want, we could drop by after that.” The beep cut him off. He thought about calling back and leaving a message about what a great time he'd had last night, but he decided against it. The last thing he wanted was to seem too needy. He had a feeling she wouldn't put up with a wimpy man.

He took Harley for a quick walk in the park. Gail was out in her yard deadheading her roses when he passed. He gave her a polite wave, but she ignored him even though she had obviously seen him. Oh well, a day without hearing her shrill voice was a good day, as far as he was concerned.

After a long, hot shower, he checked his phone to see if he'd missed Jamie's call, but there was only a message from Grammy asking him to pick up some beer on his way to her place tomorrow. He plopped down on his overstuffed leather recliner, leaned back until the footrest popped up, and turned on the TV. He flipped through the channels until he found a Texas Rangers game, a sport that was guaranteed to induce sleep. Harley stretched out on the floor and started snoring.

But even though he was exhausted, Nick didn't fall asleep immediately. He couldn't get Jamie's expression off his mind. She had seemed disappointed, and then there was that tear. What was that all about?

Tears always confused him. Women cried when they were sad…or happy…or angry…or frustrated…or when
The Notebook
came on cable. How was he supposed to be able to interpret these tears when they all looked the same? Jamie's tear could have meant anything, but somehow he suspected it hadn't been a tear of joy.

It was dark when he woke up. He dressed in his oldest pair of jeans, a faded UT T-shirt, and flip-flops, then rumpled his hair like it hadn't been combed in a couple of days. He hadn't shaved since yesterday morning, so a fashionable scruff covered his square jaw, ensuring he would blend in with the rest of the minimally groomed students.

When he got to Bane's, the atmosphere was gloomy and sad. Most of the students stopped by just long enough to say nice things about Jess and smoke a loosie or a joint, then left to find another, more upbeat party. No one wanted to be reminded of their own mortality, and seeing the empty chair next to Bane was a big downer.

Nick tried to root out information about where the fatal loosie had come from, but no one was feeling chatty. The party broke up completely around eleven, so Nick was back home by midnight. He'd checked his phone every half hour, but still there was no missed call or message from Jamie. He finally broke down and called her again, but this time it went straight to voicemail. He didn't bother leaving a message. He refused to accept the obvious. She wouldn't shut him out completely, would she? Had she not enjoyed their time together as much as he had? She'd probably been busy with the vet group and working with the dogs, as well as the regular chores. Maybe she was tired and had gone to bed early.

Yes, that had to be it. They hadn't slept much last night, he remembered with a satisfied smile.

Nick refused to consider the possibility that she was out with someone else. In spite of their sexual activities, he knew Jamie wasn't that kind of girl. What they had was special. Wasn't it?

The phone rang again. Jamie glanced at the screen, and when she saw it was Nick, she hit the
IGNORE
button and sent the call to voicemail. She knew that sooner or later she would have to talk to him, but that would mean it was over.

It had to be that way. She had known all along that there was absolutely no future in any sort of relationship with him. He didn't strike her as the type of guy who had many female friends. Besides, she wouldn't want to be around him because she would never be able to look at him and not think about how it felt to be held in his arms or devoured by his kisses.

But the good news was that every day she would think about him less. Soon she wouldn't miss him at all. And if, or, more likely, when something bad happened to him, she wouldn't be around to care.

A tear trickled down her cheek and dropped onto the screen of her phone.
God, please don't let me care.
It hurt too much.