Crash Into Me (19 page)

“Yes,
James,” she moaned, tracing his lips with her tongue. “Make me warm.”

How
could he deny her? He couldn’t remember why he’d tried. Instead, he slid his
tongue into her mouth and his hands underneath her sweatshirt, covering her
naked breasts.

The
simple act of touching her, with no barriers between them, was so exciting that
he stilled for a moment, reveling in the feel of her. Beneath his fingertips,
there were lines, marks she’d made with the razor, but they were rough with
healing, not tender and new. A wave of pride and protectiveness washed over
him, so strong he wanted to place his mouth there, to worship every inch of her
skin and tell her how lovely she was. Because he was afraid she might
misinterpret the gesture or push him away, he didn’t raise her shirt. Instead,
he brushed his thumbs over her nipples, over and over again until he thought he
would surely embarrass himself if he continued.

The
sounds she was making were driving him crazy.

Breathing
hard, he moved his hands over her back, pulling her tight against him. She was
wearing the same jogging pants he’d seen her in before, the ones that said
JUICY across the butt. He traced the letters with his fingertips then slipped
his hands beneath the fabric, finding nothing but soft skin and a lacy thong.

James’
heart thudded painfully. Any blood left in his head rushed south.

He
took his hands out of her pants slowly, afraid to move too fast. The danger
zone was on red alert. “Turn around.”

Her
eyes flew open in surprise.

He
smiled at her reaction. “Your butt is like ice. Turn around, and I’ll warm you
up.”

Smiling
back at him, she turned around and snuggled into him. He opened his jacket and
enveloped her in warmth, experiencing an intense satisfaction when she murmured
her pleasure.

“Do
you think I’m too skinny?” she asked, after a few minutes.

“No,”
he said, clenching his teeth against the renewed urge to take her hips in his
hands and surge forward, testing those slender proportions.

“Really?
How about these?” She brought his hands up to her breasts. “Too small?”

He
gave them an exploratory squeeze. “You’re perfect,” he said in all honesty,
hoping they’d laid the subject to rest.

She
wasn’t quite satisfied. “Then why don’t you want this?” she asked, putting his
hand between her legs and covering it with her own.

“Carly,”
he said in a tortured whisper. “I want it so bad I’m shaking.”

That,
he knew she could feel. And the other evidence, prodding her backside.

“Then
why aren’t you trying to convince me to do it?” she asked.

He
tried to calm himself with slow, even breaths. “Because we’ve only been going
out three days. For pretend.” Even so, he couldn’t stop himself from stroking
her through the thin material of her jogging pants, feeling her heat.

“I
don’t care,” she moaned, tilting her hips up and pressing the tips of his
fingers against her, harder. “I want to.”

“No,”
he said, denying himself, as well as her. Putting some very necessary distance
between them, he rolled away from her and sat up, resting his forearms on his
bent knees. “You shouldn’t let me touch you.”

She
cozied up beside him and put her head on his shoulder, slipping one arm under
his. “I like it when you touch me.”

“Your
dad doesn’t.”

“So?
What do you think he and Summer were doing in the Jacuzzi?”

He
thought of the blood on Summer’s face. “Is she okay?”

“She’s
fine. Why did you freak out like that?”

He
didn’t answer. “You should go back home before you get grounded again.”

“Where
will you go?”

He
rubbed his hands over his eyes. He’d had barely four hours of sleep in two
days. “I’m supposed to be staying with my brother, but his house is kind of
hectic.”

She
frowned. “Holiday visitors?”

He
laughed at the very idea. “Yeah. Oh, yeah. Holiday visitors, having a merry
fucking Christmas.”

Impatient
with his obscure humor, she said, “So why can’t you go to your dad’s? Are you
afraid he’s going to hit you?”

He
jerked away from her. “Shut up.”

“Fuck
you,” she returned. “Do you think I’m stupid? I’ve seen your bruises.”

He
stood, ready to leave her there. Then he remembered Lisette and reconsidered.
“Come on. I’ll take you home.”

She
lifted her stubborn jaw. “I can get home by myself.”

He
paled at the thought of her wandering around in the dark last night, looking
for him. “You shouldn’t be out at night on your own. It’s dangerous.”

“Why
is it dangerous for me, but not you? You can sleep on the beach, but I can’t
walk down it by myself? That is total bullshit.”

He
couldn’t tell her why he knew she had to be extra-careful. “What’s that?” he
asked instead, seeing the blue sweater she’d left lying on the sand.

“It’s
your Christmas present, you stupid jerk.” She picked up another box and threw
it at him. “Here’s another one.”

He
gathered up the stuff and followed her as she stormed down the beach. The first
rays of dawn were beginning to peek over the horizon, painting streaks of pink
across the sky. “I have a present for you, too.”

She
stopped, tucking a flyaway strand of hair behind her ear. “You do?”

Reaching
into his pocket, he pulled out a tiny package wrapped in plain white paper.
“Here.”

She
opened it carefully.

“It’s
nothing new or expensive,” he mumbled. “I just wanted to give you something, to
show you…”

She
watched his face, waited for him to continue.

Doing
it right, he took her hand in his. “I wanted to ask you to be my real
girlfriend.”

“All
right,” she said with a shy smile. Studying the ring in the early-morning
light, she saw that it was antique, silver, and engraved with a swirling
design. “Where did you get it?”

He
smiled back at her. “Out of a shark’s belly.”

Her
jaw dropped. “No!”

“Yes.
See if it fits.”

It
did.

Sonny was back in the
Jacuzzi with Ben. Steam was rising up from the hot water, and they were
exploring each other languidly, touching, caressing, kissing…

Then
a warning bell sounded in her mind, and he pulled away from her, leaving her
cold. She tried to follow him, but her legs were like jelly. She couldn’t move.
Rubbing at her eyes, she tried to focus on his wavering form, but the fog was
too thick. She couldn’t see.

Then
the silver blade of a knife flashed, slashing down, into her stomach.

Gasping,
she lurched up in bed, holding a hand to her belly.

A
dream, she realized with relief. Just a dream. Her cell phone, the trigger of
her nightmare, was ringing. With a shaking hand, she reached out to pick it up
from the pile of clothes beside the bed. “Vasquez,” she growled, annoyed with
Grant for interrupting what could have been a perfectly good sex dream.

“Brass
is at your boyfriend’s right now.”

She
kicked the blankets off her legs, stumbling over to look through the already
bent vertical blinds. Sure enough, a police cruiser was parked in front of
Ben’s house. “Why?”

“Anonymous
caller reported a floater. Allegedly, it’s Lisette Bruebaker. Carly Fortune’s
best friend.”

Her
heart dropped. “No.”

“The
body hasn’t been found, but Mrs. Bruebaker confirms that the girl’s been
missing. She didn’t file a report, because Lisette isn’t that reliable as far
as checking in. Mom figured she was just partying.”

“Nice.”

“Yeah.
Guess who she was supposed to be staying with.”

Sonny
wrestled her legs into sweatpants, shoved her feet into shoes. “Who?”

“Carly
and Ben Fortune.”

Swearing,
she hung up the phone and ran out the door. To her relief, the uniform was
messing around inside his patrol car, playing with the radio. He wasn’t a
detective, she noted. Just some beat cop collecting information.

Ben
opened the door, taking in her frazzled appearance with a lazy smile. “Can’t
wait to see me again?”

She
smiled back at him self-consciously, wishing she’d had time to brush her teeth
and fix her hair. “Actually, I was going to ask Carly if she wanted to go for a
jog.”

Hearing
the magic word (her own name) Carly came up behind Ben and put her hand on his shoulder.
“Why is there a police car out front?” she asked, sipping something warm and
fragrant from an earthenware mug.

Sonny
managed a careless shrug.

“Have
you had breakfast?” he asked, studying her bruised lower lip.

She
resisted the urge to run her tongue over the split. “Not yet,” she said,
glancing at Carly. “Is that coffee?”

“It
is,” Carly replied. “Some of us real humans need caffeine in the morning. Do
you like banana nut muffins?”

“I
love them,” she said. “Did I mention I was going for a jog?”

“Yeah,
I’m up for it.” Stretching one arm over her head, Carly gestured for Sonny to
follow her back to the kitchen. “Are you going to show me some more of that
karate stuff? It was so cool how you held back Dad last night.”

Sonny
had polished off a cup of coffee and a muffin before the cop finally made it to
the front door. When the doorbell rang, she excused herself, because she really
did have to pee, but she also wanted a chance to eavesdrop for a moment upon
her return.

After
a quick trip to the bathroom, she skulked her way down the hall, surprised to
hear that the policeman was inside. This wasn’t a doorstep interview. She
stopped, back pressed against the wall, listening as the deputy continued
questioning.

“Did
Lisette say where she was going, or tell you what her plans were?”

Carly’s
response was vague. “I never knew what Lisette was planning to do next. She was
kind of unpredictable.”

“Did
she have a boyfriend?”

“Sure.
The whole senior class.”

“Anyone
special?”

“No.
She liked to date around. Did something happen to her?”

“Her
mom hasn’t seen her for a while. It’s just routine.”

The
officer’s statement seemed to put Carly at ease. That was a mistake, from an
interviewer’s standpoint. “She’s always like that. When school is in session,
she goes to class. On breaks, she’s like, all over the place.”

Sonny
heard the sound of the deputy flipping paper on a wire-bound notebook. “You
said you last saw her Friday night. Not Saturday morning?”

“No,”
Carly answered quickly. “When I woke up, she was already gone.”

“Mr.
Fortune?”

“I
went surfing pretty early. I didn’t check on them first.”

“Is
it possible that Lisette left in the middle of the night? Snuck out?” There was
an awkward silence, during which no one answered verbally. Instead of taking
advantage of it, letting it draw out, the cop forged ahead. “Is that typical
behavior for her, to leave early, without saying good-bye?”

“No,”
Carly admitted. “Usually she hangs out longer.”

“Did
anything out of the ordinary occur while she was here?”

Neither
Ben nor Carly responded, but Sonny could practically feel the room ignite with
tension. She had to see their faces now, so she entered the room and sat down,
trying to be as unobtrusive as possible.

“You
can tell him, Dad,” Carly prompted.

Ben
did not have the countenance of an innocent man. Sonny felt something snap
inside her, unleashing an emotion she didn’t know she could feel, didn’t
realize she was capable of. She pushed it back, denied it, focused only on his
face.

His
handsome, perfect, lying goddamned face.