Mind Sweeper (25 page)

He chuckled. “Was there sex in this book?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want to describe it to me?”

“Why…can’t you think up things on your own?”

“Yes, but if you want to act anything out, I’m your man.”

“You’re talking me to death, here, Lieutenant.”

He crawled onto the bed and straddled me. “Talk time is over.” He buried his face in my neck and kissed me, following up with a playful nip.

I moaned. Couldn’t help myself. I felt him smile against my neck, and then he kissed up along my jawline and ended back on my lips. As he distracted me with kisses, he worked his hands underneath my shirt. Not to be outdone, I unbuttoned his shirt, pushing it back and running my hands along his hard chest. I had been fantasizing about touching him since the day he stood shirtless in the alley.

His kisses grew hungrier, and when I squeezed his nipple, it was his turn to moan. Lifting up, he tried to pull off my shirt. I sat up and helped him. Once it was off, he ran his beautiful eyes over my body, his stare piercing me.

I couldn’t get over the intense gleam in his eyes, especially since I was wearing my boring white bra. Why I had not started wearing my slutty undies the minute I laid eyes on him was beyond me.

“You are gorgeous.” He reached around and unhooked my bra, sliding the straps down my arms and exposing my breasts.

I wanted to respond, but all words left me when he palmed my breasts. The roughness of his fingers against my skin set off a tidal wave of electrical currents, and I arched closer. He kissed me again, his tongue dueling with mine for the briefest moment. And then he was gone, his lips traveling down to kiss the top swell of my breasts.

God, yes!
I trembled and took choppy breaths, anticipating where he was going next, and was rewarded when his tongue teased my left nipple. Sensation raced through me, electrifying my skin, and when his lips finally enveloped it, I cried out.

He looked up at me, lips still surrounding my nipple, and his eyes danced. After another moment, he released me and grinned, apparently feeling quite proud of himself. Not to be outdone, I reached for his pants and fought with the button, then rasped his zipper down. But he moved quickly out of my reach.

“I want to touch you,” I whined. Wow, he had me whining
again
.

“Not yet. We’re going to take this slow.”

When he slid off my pants I thanked God it was summertime and I shaved more frequently. But as soon as his lips touched my inner thigh, all inane hairy leg thoughts vanished and I was left with
oh, oh, ohhhh!

Blazing a slow trail of kisses up my leg, he finally made it to the Promised Land. I squirmed immediately and he held my hips down, torturing me. Crying out, I was on the brink, ready to fall off the cliff, when he stopped.

“Don’t stop!”

“Trust me, we’re not done.” He stood up and finished undressing, and my eyes were glued to him the whole time. He was as lean as I imagined, but muscular in all the right places. Reaching for the bedside stand, he opened the drawer and pulled out a condom.
Good boy.

“I hope you have more than one of those,” I purred.

He shook his head. “Yep, you’re going to be the death of me.”

“Just being honest, Dalton. Please tell me you’re up for the challenge.”

“With you, always.”

His turquoise eyes darkened as he ripped open the package and sheathed himself. I crooked my fingers at him and he joined me on the bed. I reached down and ran my palm over his length and he growled. It was the sexiest sound I had ever heard. While I was playing, he started his own game with his fingers and we were both sweating within seconds. I had challenged him earlier, and if I’d had the strength I would have held out, but I was beyond that point.

“Dalton, now!”

He thrust inside me and then froze for a moment, watching my face with concern. I gazed into his eyes and lost myself for the briefest of seconds. Then I took a deep breath and relaxed, nodding. He sighed and started to move again. Within seconds, tremors threatened my control, and my vision went hazy. Our bodies found a slow rhythm. It didn’t take long before the pace ramped up and was in sync with my thudding heart.

I screamed when colored lights flashed behind my eyes and I toppled over the edge. Dalton groaned and followed me. Once we stopped moving, he lay next to me, wrapping his arms around me. “You okay?”

“I’m more than okay. You didn’t figure it out from the screaming?”

He smiled. “I just wanted to make sure.”

“Give me a few minutes to recuperate and then I get to be in charge this time.”

He buried his head in my shoulder and mumbled something.

“What did you say?”

“I said, do you know CPR?”

I laughed. “Don’t worry, I got you covered.”

* * *

I lay next to Dalton and closed my eyes. His even breathing for the past few minutes meant he was probably asleep, which was fine with me, since I wasn’t much of an after-sex talker. For me, sex good, talking bad. Sometimes I wondered if I had been a man in a past life.

I moved slightly and cringed when Dalton rolled over to face me and wrapped his arm around my waist.

He opened his eyes and smiled sleepily. “Hey.”

“Sorry I woke you.”

“No problem. Sorry I fell asleep on you. I’m not being a very good host, am I?”

“If this is how you take care of all your guests, I’d say you’re a damn fine host.”

He chuckled. “Only very special guests get this type of treatment.”

I ran my hand lightly over his chest. “I don’t know how I landed on your special list, but I thank you.”

“If you need me to spell it out for you, I can.” He rubbed my back lightly. “But there’s no doubt in my mind.”

“Right…girl who can erase memories.”

“I don’t mean your power, I mean you.” He frowned. “Someone did a number on you, some jackass man, right?”

“A jackass by the name of Jack, actually.”

“Let me guess, your friend in Vegas?”

I nodded. “Your powers of deduction astound me.”

“Hasn’t anyone ever told you you’re special…like your mom?”

I tried to laugh but wasn’t able to pull it off. “Hardly.”

He pulled me closer to him. “Didn’t you have anyone else you could talk to growing up?”

“Not unless you count her string of boyfriends, but most of them ignored me.” He gazed at me with sympathetic turquoise eyes and suddenly I felt more exposed than when he first saw me naked. “Stop looking at me like that.”

“I can look at you any way I want.”

I ran my hand along his jaw. “I can think of other things we could be doing. Shut up and kiss me, already.”

His eyes narrowed on me. “You’re trying to distract me.”

“Is it working?” I asked.

“For the moment.” He pulled me closer and ran his lips lightly over my face.

* * *

My phone rang, jarring me awake.
What ungodly hour was it?
The clock on the bed stand said six a.m.

Where was my phone?
In my jeans.
Where were my jeans?
Then, I realized I was naked, and lying in Dalton’s bed alone.

My phone rang again, and I jerked back the sheets. Searching around the floor, I found my jeans in the corner of the room and pulled my phone out of the pocket. It was Jean Luc.

“What?”

“Good morning, Kyle. Your tone tells me you did not have an enjoyable evening with Joe.”

“It was fine. What’s going on?”

“We have a development. Where is Joe?”

Wasn’t that the question of the century? “It’s six a.m., he’s probably still sleeping.”

Misha’s voice chimed in. “You sound upset. Turn on the video conferencing on your phone so I can see you.”

“Not gonna happen, Misha.”

“Come on, I got you this cell phone so you could use all the cool features. Why not?”

“
It’s six a.m.
, I’m not dressed yet.” Apparently they were not getting my subtle hints about how ridiculously early it was.

“Oh, right. Well, we ran the composite I made of the guy who shot me and we have a hit.”

“Who is he?”

“Jason Watson. Thirty-two. Ex-military. He served in the army for ten years before receiving an honorable discharge. According to his tax records he’s been working as a freelance security specialist.”

“What does that mean?”

“It can mean anything from a bodyguard to a mercenary,” Misha answered.

“Also,” Jean Luc added, “his fingerprints are a seventy percent match to the print I took from Byron’s apartment.”

“So, not only did he shoot Misha, he knocked me over the head and may have played a part in Byron’s death. Do we know how to locate him?” I flipped the phone to speaker and threw it on the bed, so I could gather up the rest of my clothes.

“His current address is false. Misha and I checked it out and found an abandoned building.”

“Let me get dressed and then I’ll find Dalton and we’ll come in.” While I was pulling my shirt on over my head, the door opened. By the time I wrestled it over my face, Dalton was in the room carrying a tray.

“Here’s breakfast. I thought we could eat in bed. After last night, you have to be starving.”

I stared at Dalton for a second and then back down at the phone. My look of panic must have clued him in to the situation. His face turned an interesting shade of magenta. I had become the lead in a comedy of errors.

Silence reigned for several long seconds until laughter burst from the phone.

Chapter 26

The last thing I wanted to do was face Jean Luc and Misha. God only knew what either of them would have to say about what happened this morning. But Dalton and I were on the way into the office anyway. I wasn’t sure what last night really meant, and after the phone call fiasco this morning we hadn’t talked too much about it. Was it a one night stand? I couldn’t afford to assume anything else. Luckily, Dalton’s phone rang, interrupting my nervous reverie.

“Dalton here…Yes, Father Brown, we can stop to see you. Actually, Miss Smith is with me now…okay, we’ll see you in fifteen to twenty minutes.”

“What’s up?”

“Father found some old letters and thinks it might help with the investigation of Cowell’s murder.”

Great, so I had avoided the two fussbudgets at the office for a while in exchange for spending time with a priest. A priest who would probably take one look at the two of us and know we’d been fooling around. Would Dalton crumble under his scrutiny and feel the need to go to confession?

We were at the university in less than twenty, and parked next to the administrative offices. A different student manned the front desk and sent us back to Father Brown’s office. We entered and he gestured to the guest chairs across from his desk where he sat with a stack of letters piled in front of him.

“Lieutenant, Miss Smith, thank you for coming on such short notice.”

“Father.” Dalton nodded. “You said you might have some information that would help the case?”

“Yes. After you left the other day, I tried to remember all of the places David had visited while on sabbatical. And then I remembered his letters.” He picked up the stack in front of him and handed them to me. “I know it may seem strange we corresponded via letter, instead of email, but I collect stamps. David and I had a deal. Whenever we traveled, we would write letters and send them from all over the world. I was hoping they might help you now.”

I flipped through the envelopes. There were stamps from at least a half dozen different countries. “Did you find anything in particular when you reread them?”

“It gives you a good timeline of when he was in each country. Italy, France, Switzerland, Monaco, Turkey. When I read the letters this time, I noticed his tone changed. He went from the David I knew to one who seemed more withdrawn. At the time, I think I chalked it up to him being tired, but in hindsight, I wonder if this was the start of his delusion.”

“When did you notice the change?” Dalton interjected.

“He was in Turkey working on a dig. I had forgotten all about it.”

“Why would he be involved with an archeological dig?” I asked.

“Apparently there was speculation they might find religious artifacts, and so they asked David to stay and examine them.”

“Did he mention if they ever found the artifacts?” I persisted.

“Nothing in particular. Maybe you will notice something more telling than I was able to find. I only hope it helps find David’s killer.”

I held up the envelopes. “Can we take these with us? I’ll return them.”

“Please. Let me know if they help in any way.”

Dalton pulled out of the university parking lot and I opened the first letter. The postage was from Rome.

“Can you read in the car without getting sick?”

“Don’t worry, I won’t mess up your leather seats.”

The letter was the first Cowell had sent to Father Brown while on sabbatical.