Witches of Three: Charlene (6 page)

She was a failure, a total failure! She stood letting the warm water pummel her while she berated herself. When the water turned cool, she dried herself off then huddled in a heavy chenille bathrobe on her bed, wishing she could reverse time enough that the shooting hadn’t happened. But everyone knew, even the newspapers. The task was too big for her. When the doorbell rang, she knew instinctively it was Nick and hurried to open the door and throw herself into his arms. He held her for a long moment while she fought not to cry again. Then she stepped back and wiped her eyes. His strong shoulders were too tempting.

“Have you had supper?” she asked. “I could whip up some eggs. It’s all I have in the house.”

“Don’t bother, we’ll order in a pizza or something.” He took off his coat, draped it over the hall tree and followed her into the living room. Charlie switched on some lights.

“Are you okay?” Nick asked, his dark eyes probing.

She nodded. “Now that you’re here,” she said and threw herself into his arms again.

It was the only place she wanted to be. They kissed, long and deep without their usual passion. This was a kiss that gave comfort, that reassured, and she was grateful for it. Then she remembered the windows.

“Oh, my gosh,” she exclaimed. “How could I be so careless?” She hurried to pull the heavy curtains, closing the two of them in safe from prying eyes.

“I’m not very good at this,” she said, moving toward him.

“Me, either,” he said quietly, but he took her into his arms and cradled her close.

They talked, and she went over every detail of the shooting. When she was exhausted and drained, Nick ordered pizza and a tossed salad and made drinks while they waited for the food to be delivered. However, when it came, neither of them ate much.

“I think Ralph is going to be a problem for us,” she said, pushing her untouched plate aside. “He acts so suspicious, as if he senses something but isn’t sure what.”

“I know what you mean,” Nick said, frowning. “Don’t worry about him right now. You have enough on your mind.”

He reached his hand across the table and touched her little finger with his. Just that tiny brush filled her with a glow of gratitude and something she didn’t even want to name right at that moment. It was good enough that he was there, that they were together.

“Did you get the sense that the group of men were waiting for you guys?” he asked, his dark eyes sharp with speculation.

“They didn’t seem nervous when we showed up,” she said, casting her thoughts back to that afternoon on the streets. “They watched us like they were waiting for us to do something, and then they would react.” She shook her head. “I don’t know. Geronimo said he’d heard some scuttlebutt and wanted to check up on something. I don’t know what he meant by that. He didn’t tell me.”

“You didn’t ask?” Nick studied her.

She shook her head again. “I figured it was something he’d picked up from one of his snitches and thought I should respect that as I’d want him to respect my sources.”

Nick nodded in approval. “Go on, what else happened?”

“Well, right away, Geronimo checked his weapon. I thought he was just being cautious, then he got out of the car and told me to wait there, so he must not have expected any trouble.” She paused, thinking it over. “After the shooting, while we were waiting for help, he seemed so surprised it had happened. He hadn’t expected it.”

Nick remained silent, just waiting.

“You know,” she said, rubbing her forehead with one hand. “It was so laidback like these were just guys visiting on a street corner. Even when the guy took the gun out of his jacket, I didn’t get that he was going to shoot anyone. He was so casual about it as if it was something he did every day.” She sighed and put both hands in her lap.

Her pensive mood lasted all evening until they retired. She was surprised and eternally grateful that Nick stayed with her. They cuddled together, her head on his shoulder, his arms tight around her, until she felt his body stir. For the first time since the shooting, she felt like giggling. It felt good to put aside her nagging guilt over Geronimo. He was alive and safe. She could take a breath and get back to her own life and love.

“Oh dear, Captain Nick, it appears you have a problem,” she said with mock concern.

“Yes, it’s been happening a lot these past few weeks.” She could feel his grin against her cheek.

“I hope it’s not terminal,” she teased.

“God, I hope not,” he quipped, shifting to give her rein over his burgeoning cock. “I’ve had it before and always got over it. There are some things I can do to make it better.”

“Then hadn’t you better do them?” she asked innocently. “You don’t want it to get worse.”

“Oh, it’s going to get worse, much worse.” His voice had gotten husky, causing her to shiver. “I’ll need your help, though.” He clicked on the bedside table and stared down at her with eyes gleaming with passion.

“I’ll do everything I can.”

Her playful tone had disappeared, and she heard her own voice smoky with desire. Her body was alive with need for him, her crotch already damp and ready. She shifted on the bed, so she was on her back. She wanted him to touch her in all the secret places he knew about. She wrapped one hand around his hard, hot shaft and thought she might not last long enough for him to caress her. She was ready to erupt, but she held back.

Nick took his cue from her, and his long fingers plunged along her slit, brushing against her clit with a touch that nearly lifted her off the bed.

“I changed my mind,” she whispered. “I need you inside me right now.”

He chuckled deep in his throat.

“What you need, lady, is a thorough caressing followed by the deepest, hardest fuck you’ve ever had.”

His hands caressed her crotch so she writhed on the bed. Just when she thought she couldn’t take any more, he dipped his head and took a nipple between his teeth, rolling it slightly so she felt a sensation bordering on pain, except it wasn’t. It was a glorious assault on her senses, and she gave herself up to it. He caressed her clitoris with his fingers until she felt as if she were about to come.

“Enough,” she whispered then repeated louder and more insistent as he continued to touch and play.

His long finger dipped inside her, gathering moisture from her arousal. He laughed softly.

“Lady, you are so easy,” he whispered.

She was too busy to retort. Her climax rushed toward her from some dark, shadowy place that surrounded her, and she didn’t want to come without him.

“Let it go,” he urged her and increased his pressure and the friction on her clitoris, so she couldn’t have stopped its coming if she’d wanted to, and she no longer wanted to.

She gave herself to a force greater than she had ever known, shrieking with completion and when it was past and she lay quivering and replete, Nick touched her again and the whole cycle started over again.

His tongue lapped up her cream and carried it onto his tongue to her. She tasted herself and was startled at her own sweet flavor. She knew his taste, now she knew hers, and the thought was erotic beyond anything she could imagine. His tongue laved her swollen clitoris with renewed vigor. Off and on, off and on again, until she was once again arching her body, spreading her knees wide. Waves of desire swept upward from her crotch, claiming her whole body. Nick’s touch was relentless, and she never wanted him to stop. She felt the climax coming, but like before couldn’t stop it even had she wanted to, and again, she didn’t. Nick had urged her to give up her inhibitions, to stop playing nice, to go without him, and now she gave way to the wave of spasms that claimed her. This one was harder than the first, more intense so she felt her body convulse. Someone was screaming, but she pushed it aside. Whoever needed her now would have to wait. She was helpless to stop what was happening to her.

Nick rose above her and pushed his cock into her tightly clenched vagina. Muscles clamped down even harder at the feel of his hot flesh against hers. With one smooth thrust, he entered her, and her body opened to him. He moved against her with a purpose she thoroughly embraced. Tiredness settled over the edges of her awareness, but she pushed it away. Not yet. Just one more climax, one more surrender to the roaring passion that drove her mad with completion. This time with Nick inside her. She felt his slim hips undulate, his powerful thighs push his cock like a song within her. They came together, giving full voice to the explosive conclusion. Falling back against the bed, they fell asleep in their sweat.

When she woke, the sun was streaming through her window and Nick was gone, but he’d left a note on the pillow, which still bore the imprint of his head.

Chapter Five

‘This is your captain speaking,’ the note said. ‘Don’t come in today. If you do, you’ll be sent home. I’ll see you tonight.’

He’d drawn a smiley face at the end, and she laughed. She loved this playful side of Nick. She lay back, grateful she didn’t have to rush to get dressed, but the feeling soon passed. Restlessly, she threw aside the covers, sat up on the edge of the bed and thought about the events of the day before. The only way she could redeem herself with her department or with herself, she wasn’t sure which, was to find and arrest the man who’d shot Geronimo.

Banned from the station and its computer database, she perched on a stool at the kitchen island with a cup of black coffee and thought what she could do. Her only resource, she quickly saw, was Sadie Headley, a prostitute who had become Charlie’s informant.

Sadie was a sad case, with two small children and a dependent mother. She kept them all fed and housed with the money she earned on her back, but miraculously, in spite of the grimness of her life, she hadn’t turned to drugs. She hated what drugs had done to her neighborhood and feared that one day her children would fall prey to the substance that ruled her streets. For that reason, she’d turned to helping Charlie.

Showering and throwing on a pair of jeans, sneakers and a T-shirt, Charlie grabbed her keys and headed to the door. Her sister, Phil, stood on the other side, her finger poised over the doorbell.

“Where are you off to in such a hurry?” she asked brightly.

“Out,” Charlie said shortly. Although she and Phil had become closer since their adventure in tracking down a suspect, there were still boundaries Charlie didn’t want crossed. “What are you doing here?”

“I called the station, and they said you were at home today. Are you okay? I heard about the shooting. You weren’t hurt, were you? Where are you going?”

“Which question do you want me to answer first?” Charlie stepped onto the stoop and locked the door behind her, hoping that would give Phil a hint.

“I thought we could hang out together,” her sister said determinedly.

Charlie knew she was really snooping to see what was going on with Nick. “I’m busy,” Charlie said evasively. “I’ve got a ton of errands to do.”

“I’ll tag along,” Phil said. “Then we can stop for lunch and chat.”

Charlie’s shoulders sagged in defeat. She knew how persistent Phil could be.

“Look,” she said, facing her sister. “I have to check out something and if you’re there…”

“What? I’ll be in the way? Pshaw!” Ever since Phil had inherited Aunt Agatha’s Victorian, she was given to such old-fashioned exclamations. “Remember how much help I was when we were chasing that horrible man who was involved with the death of Beck’s wife?”

“This is different,” Charlie said weakly. She knew she was losing the argument.

“How?” Phil demanded, her brows arched, her mouth pursed. Hands planted on her hips, she waited.

Charlie sighed. “All right, come on,” she said grudgingly and headed to her car. “I’m going to see an informant, and if she thinks someone might give her away, she’ll disappear. You have to promise me you’ll stay in the car and do exactly what I say.”

“Okay.” Phil nodded and buckled her seatbelt.

They both knew the chances of her doing that were slim. Charlie drove to Lambert Street where Sadie plied her trade. Charlie wasn’t sure she’d be working this early in the day, but when she turned the corner, she caught a glimpse of the woman chatting to someone in a brown sedan. Charlie pulled next to the curb well back and waited.

“Is that—is she a prostitute?” Phil exclaimed.

“Yes, now duck down so she doesn’t see you,” Charlie ordered and got out of the car then paused to glare at her sister. “Get down and don’t get out.” She slammed the door and made her way toward Sadie who was now standing alone on the sidewalk while the car sped away.

“Sorry, did I scare away a client?” Charlie asked, approaching the bony, thin-faced woman.

Sadie looked as if she hadn’t eaten in about thirty years. Charlie wasn’t sure whether to envy her for her thinness or rush her down to the nearest diner for a meal.

Sadie drew deeply on her cigarette and tossed the butt into the gutter.

“Nah,” she said in a husky voice. “He wasn’t buying. I owe him a favor, and he was trying to call it in with a freebie. I told him I can’t pay the rent on freebies.”

“The nerve of the guy,” Charlie said, truly sympathizing with the woman. “Do you need some money?”

“I always need money,” Sadie answered, looking around uneasily. “But not now and not here.”

“How are the kids?”

“They’re fine as they can be growing up down here in the hood,” Sadie said bitterly, lighting up another cigarette. She blew out the smoke and coughed. “These things are gonna kill me one of these days.” She glanced at Charlie. “The street’s gone quiet about the shooting.”

“You have no idea who the shooter was?”

Sadie glanced over her shoulder and shook her head. “I didn’t say that,” she hedged. “I saw the event go down.”

“Then you know who it was?”

Sadie’s head jerked around, and she stared at Charlie with a hurt look. “Who you got with you?”

Cursing silently, Charlie glanced back at her car. Phil had sat up and was peering at them.

“It’s my dog,” Charlie said on an inspiration. “I got a new dog.” She blinked and had the satisfaction of seeing her sister’s blonde head take on the canine features of a Golden Retriever.