Her Mother's Killer (10 page)

“Thea?”

“No, Mama, no!”

His heart twisted at her anguished scream. The fear
 
in her voice chilled his blood. Locked in a memory, she strained against an imaginary force.

“Thea, hon, wake up.”

She didn’t stop, her moans of terror growing as she struggled against the nightmare. He touched her shoulder hoping to calm
 
her but she bolted up in bed with a scream. She blinked, then slowly opened her eyes. Her cheeks were wet with tears.

Squinting, she said, “Duncan?”

“You were having a nightmare.”

She blinked, and glanced around the room. Her demeanor spoke of someone who didn’t recognize their surroundings. She shook her head, and he watched the reality of the situation pass over her face.

“I’m sorry.”

He eased himself onto the mattress. “Do you remember anything?”

She sighed. “Bits and pieces. I only ever remember little parts of it, like it is all shadowed.” She shoved a hand through her hair. “It’s very aggravating. Sometimes…sometimes I think I recognize the voice, but then I wake up.”

“Tell me what little you remember.” For a second, the confusion remained in her eyes. Then, her face paled. “What did you remember?”

“Mama.” Grief roughened her voice. “I remember Mama telling the man I wasn’t there, then I heard his voice.”

He grabbed hold of her by her upper arms and turned her to face him. She looked up at him, her eyes shimmering with tears. The need to comfort, to pull her against him and promise that no one would ever hurt her again, almost overwhelmed him. But he knew he had a job to do, and that would only cloud it.

“Whose voice?” She didn’t answer, just blinked and a tear rolled down her cheek. “Whose voice, someone you know, or knew?”

She cleared her throat. “In my dream…” She swallowed. “In my dream, I recognize the voice. At first, nothing’s wrong then Mama starts to argue.” She shook her head in denial as if trying to clear the memory. “But it was the first time I realized I knew the person. The first time I dreamed of his voice. That night he showed up and Mama let him in.”

“Who was it?” he demanded.

“I don’t know. I swear I don’t know.” She leaned her head against his shoulder.

“What do you mean you don’t know? You said you heard his voice in your dream.” He’d released her arms and now massaged her back, running his hands up and down her spine.

“I heard it, but…something. I just don’t know. It’s all sort of foggy, muffled and I remember…” She pulled back from him and looked him in the eye. Her face was drenched with tears. “I just remember back then—when it happened—that I knew this person and why was Mama yelling at him? She told him that I wasn’t here. That was I spending the night at a friend’s house.”

“So, anything else? Did she say anything in your dream that would point you to the person?”

She frowned and sniffled. “She said… Oh my God. Yes! She said something like ‘What are you doing here this late?’ Like he was there normally but not at night.”

“So, we know he was there that night, and had been there before—”

“Recently. I just get this feeling the man was there on a regular basis, just not that late at night.”

She leaned forward and placed her head on his shoulder again. Duncan was relieved she was no longer crying, but as she snuggled closer, his thoughts turned away from the case. He needed distance to think straight so he eased her back away from him.

“Anything else?”

She shook her head and shivered. As she pulled the sheets up to her chest, he realized just how little she was wearing. The soft cotton of her nightshirt draped over her breasts, her hardened nipples pressed against the fabric. All his worry dissolved as arousal pulsed to life.

“Well, if you’re okay, I’m going to head back to bed.”

He would have done just that, moved away from her, gone back to bed, and tried to forget just how she looked with the moonlight illuminating her, the softness of her skin, of the need to touch her. But she leaned forward again, resting her head on his shoulder.

“Thank you.”

Her breath spread over his flesh and he fought a shudder. His need grew, heat scorching his veins. He counted backwards from ten, trying to think of anything but the soft, warm woman leaning against him. He couldn’t quite do it, couldn’t convince himself that right now what he didn’t need was to slip between her thighs and into her tight hot passage.

Damn it.
 He tried to conjugate verbs in Spanish to get his mind back on track. His thoughts scattered the moment her lips touched the sensitive skin just below his ear.
Maybe it had been an accident. Just an inadvertent brush.
 All rational thought fled the next time it happened, this time with a bit of tongue.

He swallowed. “Thea?”

“I don’t want to be alone tonight, Duncan,” she said, her voice a husky plea. She nibbled on his earlobe. “I need someone to chase away those memories. I know I’m not your type, I know you don’t really like me, but I know you can help me. Please, help me.”

He pulled away from her and gently took her face into his hands. Her gaze was dead on; she never even flinched. “Thea, this isn’t right. I need to keep everything straight, keep you safe.” He swallowed again. He couldn’t believe she thought he didn’t want her. How could he tell her he wanted her more than he had wanted anyone in his life, more than his next breath?

“I don’t want to think, Duncan. And I don’t want to feel anything but good. It’s been so long since I’ve felt really,
 
really good.”

She tucked her legs under her bottom and sat up on her knees, bringing herself eye level with him. She leaned forward, her eyes fluttered closed and she pressed her lips to his.

He still held her face in his hands, but she’d moved her fingers to his wrists. She nipped at his lower lip. Every thought, every bit of resistance
 
melted. All his reservations disappeared in that moment, and he knew there was no going back. He wanted her and he didn’t care about the complications.

He groaned and delved into the kiss. He took complete control, capturing her mouth and diving into it. He knew she was probably using him, using this to escape the pain of her nightmare, her past. All that mattered was the way she tasted, the feel of her lips against his, the scent of her flesh. Everything within him tightened.

He shook his wrists free of her hands and slipped them down her body, pulling her tighter against him. Her turgid nipples brushed his chest. The slight touch had him groaning again, his cock growing harder. He slid his hands down her delicate spine to the curve of her bottom, taking one full cheek in each hand. Gently, he pressed her back onto the bed, lying on top of her, reveling in the feel of her body beneath his.

Her legs spread, and she cradled his arousal against her sex. Even through the jeans he wore, he could
 
feel the heat of her. He tore away from her mouth, and kissed along her jaw as her fingers speared through his hair. He pulled on her shirt, lifting it up and over her head, and then tossing it behind him. He leaned back and took in the view before him.

Holy mother of God, she is gorgeous.
 All she wore was a tiny miniscule pair of pale blue panties. Her breasts were full, heavy bottomed, tipped with gorgeous coral nipples. He rested his weight on his hands as he leaned forward and laved one of her nipples, then drew it into his mouth. He moved to her other one, while he settled on his side so he could brush his palm against her breast. She moaned, over and over, each one growing louder than the last. Soon, he was inching down her body, taking immense pleasure in the way her stomach muscles clenched as he slid his tongue across it, and into her belly button.

As he eased himself down her torso, he pulled her panties down and then off, discarding them in the same way he did her nightshirt. She instantly tried to draw her legs together, but he was laying between them. Thea slid her hand down but he stopped it as he pressed her legs wider apart. Within the dark curls lay her pink pouty lips, wet with desire.

“Duncan.” Her tone spoke of embarrassment and doubt, but he ruthlessly ignored it. She must have had one god-awful marriage if she was embarrassed. Duncan intended to wipe away any worries with knowledge, pleasure.

He settled his hand against her mound. “Ah, hot and…” he slipped a finger inside her, “wet.” She moaned and her muscles relaxed as he pressed his thumb against her clit. Her legs shifted restlessly as he continued to stroke her. Wanting…no needing a taste, he leaned forward and set his mouth against her slit.

Sweet, hot, spicy, the taste of her exploded across his senses as he slipped his tongue deeper into her sex. It took one more touch against her clit and she was hurdling over the edge. She screamed his name and her body convulsed as she came. But he didn’t stop. He built her up again, using his mouth, his fingers, his tongue. Within moments, she was coming again. He lifted his head to watch her as she bowed up, her mouth opened in a silent scream.

Knowing he was close, thinking he would be lucky to make it past the first few strokes, he moved up her body and tore open his jeans. He entered her in one fast hard thrust, even before she’d finished recovering from her orgasm. Her muscles pulled him in, clamped tight around his cock.

He angled her hips, his fingers digging into her skin. God, she felt good. Hot, wet, tight. He plunged once, twice, three times. His balls grew heavier, everything in his body tensed, his body preparing for the release. Slipping a hand between them, he pressed against her clit once more, and she came again, her muscles clenching around his shaft and he was lost. One more stroke and he poured himself into her.

Long moments later, he collapsed on top of her. He knew he should move, but he couldn’t find the energy to do it. Her hands stroked down his back, loving, gentle. She kissed the side of his neck.

He finally gained enough energy and pushed himself aside. She protested, but he put his finger on her mouth.

“I’m too heavy for you.”

She smiled. “I liked the feel of you on top of me.”

He grunted, as he pulled his jeans off and then settled back against the pillows. He pulled the sheets back up over them and Thea snuggled against him. It was then he remembered the one thing he’d forgotten.

“Thea?”

“Hmm?” She slipped her fingers over his chest.

“I’m…damn, I didn’t use protection.”

She paused, then restarted her motions. “I’m on the pill.”

He released a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. “Okay.”

Duncan knew for a fact he was clean, he always wore a condom. Except tonight. It was the first time since he lost his virginity that he hadn’t thought of using protection. That scared him more than the idea he hadn’t used it.

But he couldn’t think of that right now. He definitely didn’t want to think of why he should never have taken her to bed. Right now, all he wanted was to sleep with her by his side.

* * * *

Thea woke slowly, her body coming awake, her mind adjusting to the hard, hot body next to her in bed. She smiled as she drew in a deep breath.

Duncan
.

She’d dreamed of this moment for years, yearned for it, not knowing exactly what it would be like. Anything she imagined didn’t come close to the reality. She pushed the sheet aside and trailed her finger down his body, following the line of hair that bisected his abdomen. She reached his groin, pausing only a moment before slipping her palm over the tip. He was already hard when she took him in her hand. His indrawn breath told her that he was no longer sleeping.

She glanced up at him with a smile. “Sorry I woke you.”

He chuckled then groaned when she pulled her thumb over the tip. “No problem at all. You can wake me up any day.”

Thea scooted down the bed and pressed her mouth against his stomach.

“Thea…”

“Hmm?”

“You don’t—”

He stopped talking the moment her tongue darted out against the sensitive skin on the inside of his thigh. Excitement surged from the power she felt over him. She’d never really gotten into power games, to playing in bed. But with Duncan, she couldn’t fight the need to tease, to be the one in control. Thea inched her mouth closer to his shaft, then rolled onto her stomach between his legs. She waited a second, two, knowing her breath feathered over his cock. It twitched. His legs shifted against the sheets as she bent her head and touched the tip of her tongue against his sac.

“Holy mother of God.”

She could barely hear his muttered plea, but she smiled and said, “Just call me Thea.”

Then she trailed her tongue up his length, rising enough to take him into her mouth. His fingers twisted through her hair as she stroked his cock deep in her mouth. He soon picked up on her rhythm and joined in, jettisoning in and out of her mouth. It wasn’t long before he sat up, grabbed her by the arms and pulled her up his body. He took her by her hips and looked up at her. But instead of thrusting into her fast, hard, he entered her slowly. Inch by inch, he slid inside, all the while keeping eye contact, his gray eyes dark, burning. When he was finally in her to the hilt, he held still and she squirmed.