Alone in the Dark (42 page)

He turned his head so that his lips brushed against her nipple, sending a stream of current straight between her thighs, making her suck in a startled breath. ‘No, Detective Smartass,’ he muttered. ‘Just for that I won’t.’

She stroked his hair some more, wondering if he meant that he wouldn’t tell her or that he wouldn’t touch her. Both were unacceptable. ‘Tell me. Please.’

He was quiet for so long that she thought he’d been serious about not confessing, but then he whispered, ‘You think I don’t like hospitals because of what happened last year.’

One of her hands dropped to his chest, her fingers seeking the place where the bullet had ripped his skin, piercing one of his lungs, but all she felt was his Kevlar vest and she was thankful for it. ‘But that’s not the reason?’

‘No. The real reason is that when I was young, my mother spent a lot of time in a hospital. I visited her there and it was not pleasant. The smell of antiseptic makes me . . . Well, it makes me go back to a place I never want to see again.’

There was something here, she thought. Something much deeper. ‘Why was your mom in the hospital, Marcus?’

Another, longer, silence. ‘She took a lot of pills. I couldn’t wake her up, so I called 911. She was almost gone when they got her to the ER.’

‘Oh no,’ she whispered. ‘How old were you?’

‘Eight.’

The same age that he’d moved in with his grandfather. ‘Why did she take the pills?’

His throat convulsed against her as he fought to swallow. ‘It was right around the time my father died. So, uh, no hospitals, okay?’

‘Okay.’ She kissed the top of his head, wishing she could take the hurt away, but understanding the tentacles those old memories wound into one’s brain. And understanding that he’d offered her one of his secrets because she’d given him one of hers. ‘If it starts to get infected, I’ll call Dani, Deacon’s sister. She can check you out here or down at her shelter.’

‘All right.’ He drew another breath. ‘You smell so damn good. I remember that from when you came to see me. When things got too intense, when the smell of antiseptic started to choke me, I’d think about how good you smelled. Like wildflowers.’

‘Honeysuckle,’ she whispered. ‘It’s my shampoo. And body wash.’

This time she felt his cheeks crease in a smile. ‘Thank you,’ he said.

‘For what?’

‘For replacing the memory of my mom in the hospital with one of you naked and sudsy in the shower. With my hands all over you, getting you very, very clean.’

Everything deep inside her clenched, desperately wanting. ‘Oh,’ she breathed quietly. ‘Unfair, O’Bannion. Really unfair.’

His chuckle was wicked. ‘I have another confession,’ he said.

She thought she just might like this one better. ‘Tell me.’

Abruptly he moved, grabbing her around the waist and yanking her down to the sofa. A second later she was on her back, staring up into his dark eyes. His body was a welcome weight, the bulge in his pants now hard and thick, positioned exactly where it felt the best.

Well, not
exactly
where it felt the best. There wasn’t enough time for that.

But she wished there was, especially when he began slowly thrusting against her. Her eyes slid closed on a low moan. She really wished there was. ‘What is your confession?’ she managed, gasping when his thrusts became harder, faster.

His head dipped low, his lips kissing a line of fire up her throat, along her jaw, up to her ear. ‘I dream.’

A shudder racked her body. ‘So do I. I have for months and months. Since the first day I saw you. Heard you.’

‘Why didn’t you say anything?’ he demanded hoarsely.

She opened her eyes, snaring his gaze. ‘Why didn’t you?’

His hands kneaded her shoulders fitfully. ‘If I did have a reason, for the life of me I can’t remember what it was. In my dreams, you’re always looking up at me just like this.’

She brushed her fingers against his cheek, already dark with stubble even though he’d shaved only a few hours before. ‘In my dreams, it’s always your voice.’

‘Good to know,’ he murmured. His dark eyes flared hot and needy as they slowly traveled from her face to her breasts, lingering there for a heartbeat or two or ten before returning to her face, staring down at her like she was a treat he wanted to devour.

The tight rein she’d kept on her response simply snapped. She slid her hands into his hair, pulling his head down as she lifted hers up, meeting him halfway, kissing him the way she’d done earlier in that parking lot. And in all of her dreams. Their dreams.

He’d been dreaming of her too.
All this time
, she thought.
All this time wasted
.

And then she stopped thinking when he gripped her hips and hauled her into him, his groan vibrating against her lips, her breasts, everywhere he touched her. He took over the kiss, slanting his mouth, teasing her lips with little licks of his tongue, urging her to open for him, then groaning into her mouth when she did.

His hands squeezed her hips, then slid beneath her to flatten at the small of her back, clenching in the fabric of her shirt as he kissed her mindless. He broke away to let them breathe, kissing his way down her throat, then running his tongue back up, and then he was kissing her again like a man starved. She dug her fingers into his muscled shoulders, struggling to get closer to that hard ridge in his jeans.

She heard a low growl of frustration, then realized it had come from her throat. The growl became a moan, his greedy mouth muffling her cry of satisfaction as she thrust back, her release coiling tighter and tighter.

She couldn’t remember ever feeling this good while still wearing her clothes. Once again he pulled back to let her breathe, and her head fell against the sofa cushion. She was panting, for God’s sake. She could run a seven-minute mile, but he had her so wound up that her lungs felt like they were about to burst. He was panting too, but he didn’t seem the least bit deterred, pressing hot, wet kisses down her throat and along the edge of the scoop-neck T-shirt she wore. All while he continued the hard, steady thrusting between her legs.

‘Feels so damn good,’ she whispered, and he pulled back to meet her eyes, his hunger laid bare.

‘I want you,’ he said quietly. ‘I have dreamed of having you every way imaginable. Woken up so damn hard it hurt. I want to taste you and touch you and stroke you and watch you come for me. Over and over and over. And then I want to come inside you and start all over again until you scream my name.’

Scarlett opened her mouth, but not a single word came out, the images his words evoked winding her even tighter. But her expression must have been sufficient, because his mouth curved with satisfaction.

‘Is that a yes?’ he asked, dropping his voice a few notes lower.

She swallowed audibly. Nodded. Forced real words out of her mouth. ‘That’s a yes.’

His eyes closed, his erection becoming even harder when she hadn’t thought it possible. Without warning, he palmed her breast and she cried out in stunned pleasure, hardly even aware that he was pushing up her shirt and her bra along with it until she felt his hot, moist mouth close over her bare nipple. A low moan rumbled from her throat as he sucked hard, making everything inside her go taut as a bow. ‘Oh God.’

He released her breast and she grasped the back of his neck, urging him back down. ‘More. Please. Don’t stop.’

‘Scarlett.’ No longer smooth, his voice sounded raw. Nearly a growl. ‘Look at me.’

She did, and instantly felt her inner muscles contract, her body responding to the urgency in his eyes. His hand slid between them, his fingers tugging on the button of her slacks. ‘Yes or no?’ he whispered hoarsely.

She bucked her hips up against his hand, looking him square in the eye so that there would be no doubt for either of them. ‘Yes.’

Lincoln Park, Michigan
Tuesday 4 August, 4.30
P.M.

Drake Connor sat in his sister’s car, glaring at the gas gauge and its fucking ‘E’. The ads lied. Belle’s Civic didn’t get nearly the miles per gallon they promised. He should have been able to make it into Detroit. Instead he was sitting on the side of the road with an empty tank, his buddy wasn’t answering his cell phone, and his bitch sister had reported her credit card as stolen.

Just because I borrowed it. She didn’t have to get her nose all out of joint.

He hadn’t been able to get gas a few exits back because the card had been declined. He was lucky he hadn’t been caught. He didn’t dare try again and he’d already spent the cash he’d taken from her purse on another box of bullets and a greasy burger. The burger had been hours ago and he was starting to get hungry. When he got hungry, he got mean.

So he tried to never get hungry. Thanks to his bitch-face sister, it looked like hunger was going to be unavoidable.

Cursing, he tucked the Ruger he’d stolen from Stephanie’s father at his back, in the waistband of his jeans, and untucked his shirt to cover it up. He was going to have to walk.

It was probably for the best. If Belle had reported her credit card stolen, she may have reported the car stolen too. He’d look for food and another car. Then he’d hunt down his buddy and figure out how to sneak over the border.

He set out on foot, wondering where Stephanie was and if she’d given him up to whoever had broken into her house and dragged her family away. If she was even still alive.

He hoped not. If she was dead, she couldn’t squeal.

Cincinnati, Ohio
Tuesday 4 August, 4.45
P.M.

Yes. She said yes
.

Marcus didn’t wait. Couldn’t wait. He yanked at the button on her pants then jerked the zipper down, rearing back to kneel on the sofa. She lifted her hips so that he could pull the slacks off her long, long legs while she struggled to get her shirt and bra over her head. The garments he’d so impatiently shoved up her body now joined her pants on the floor, leaving her bare except for the tiny pair of panties cut to show off her legs and hips.

He knelt there for a long moment, staring his fill, rubbing the back of his hand over his mouth. Almost forgetting to breathe. She was all curves and lean muscle, her breasts as perfect as he’d dreamed. The panties were plain white cotton, but the damp spot so clearly visible between her legs made them sexier than the sheerest lace.

He lifted his gaze to her face, saw her watching him with a confidence that stoked him even higher. She was proud of her body, as she should be.

Not breaking her gaze, he unbuttoned his shirt and shrugged out of it. He was working on easing down the zipper of his jeans when she sat up and started pulling on the Velcro straps of the Kevlar vest. His hands froze on his jeans when hers streaked up his bare chest, her fingers raking through the hairs there.

‘Do you know how much I wanted to do this in your office?’ she murmured huskily.

‘As much as I wanted you to?’ He closed his eyes and enjoyed the feel of her hands petting him until they abruptly dropped to his jeans, still hanging on his hips. He opened his eyes to see her licking her lips.

‘Hurry, Marcus.’

His brain short-circuited and snapped. With his last vestige of sanity, he found the condom he’d stuck in his pocket, then ripped off his jeans and her panties and might still have had the control to lower himself to her gently if she hadn’t dug her fingers into his ass and pulled him down against her. He took her mouth without finesse and she kissed him back as wildly, her fingernails raking his ass a sweet hurt.

He slicked his finger between her legs and groaned into her mouth. ‘So wet. My God.’

She nipped at his lip. ‘Hurry, Marcus,’ she whispered.

Somehow he got the condom on, and seconds later plunged into the hottest, tightest, wettest . . . He shuddered violently, his hips rocking up into her of their own volition, hard and fast. He didn’t think he could have gone slowly had his life depended on it.

Finally
. He slid his arms up under her back, his hands hooking over her shoulders, kissing her mouth, her neck, anything he could reach, all while he rode her hard. She threw her head back, her eyes closed, her mouth open slightly as she met him thrust for thrust.

Suddenly he needed to know she was with him. ‘Scarlett. Look at me.’

She struggled to open her eyes, but when she did, his breath froze in his chest. Staring up at him, she was straight from his fantasies, better than any of his dreams. ‘I need this,’ she said breathlessly. ‘Need you.’

He was brutally close to coming, but needed to know he’d gotten her there too. Without slowing his thrusts, he reached between them, found her slick, swollen clit and pressed down with his thumb.

Her body went rigid and her fingers scrabbled for purchase on his ass as she teetered on the edge. He sucked her nipple into his mouth and bit her, shoving her over.

With her scream echoing in his ears, he buried his face in her neck and followed her.

He surfaced to feel her stroking his hair, the hands that had clawed at his skin now gentle. ‘Oh my God,’ he murmured, and she laughed quietly.