Guilty Cravings (The Steamy South 1) (11 page)

“It’s midnight,
Emily. You’re going to work in the garden?”

“No. Come on and hold
the flashlight.” She flicked on the exterior lights.

He pressed a hand
high against the door, preventing her from opening it. “First, tell me why.” It
was slightly less than a demand.

“There might be
something buried in my garden. Something valuable someone is willing to kill
for.”

“And you think this
because…?”

She blew out an
impatient breath. “A few months ago, I was walking home from work and I saw Jared’s
car pulling away from my house. He no longer had access, because I’d had the
locks changed. He’d been parked near the garden gate. The next day, I noticed
in the garden where I thought a dog or some other animal had dug in the dirt. I
didn’t connect the two until ten minutes ago. I mean, why would I suspect Jared
of burying something in my garden? But now that some phallic object is missing,
it makes me suspicious.”

“Okay.” Nick turned
on the black flashlight. “I’m going out first.” He pulled a large stainless
steel pistol from the back waist of his jeans.

A renewed surge of
icy fear rushed over her.

“Stay back until I
tell you it’s safe,” he said.

She swallowed hard
and nodded. What if she caused Nick to step out into the sights of some
deranged killer? “Be careful.” She briefly touched his warm, bronzed skin and
the Celtic symbols tattooed on his upper arm.

He sent an intense
glance back at her. “Right. Stay down.” He slipped out the door, crouching low.
Maybe this was a terrible idea.

He directed the
flashlight and gun around the walled courtyard garden, then checked behind two
yew shrubs.

“All clear.” He
motioned her out with his head. She found his tough guy, cop actions pretty
hot.

Carrying the spade,
she moved toward a corner flowerbed. “I think it was right here. Damn, I’ll
have to dig up my begonias.”

She placed the spade
point into the ground and with her foot shoved it beneath a big plant and
lifted it from the ground, then did a second one. Once these were out of the
way, she started digging a hole.

Nick removed the beam
of light from where she was working and directed it around through the
darkness, along the house, toward the street. A gate there allowed views into
the garden.

“Do you leave the
gate unlocked?”

She glanced at it,
seeing that it was closed. “No, but there’s an easy trick to opening it. Which,
by the way, Jared knew about.” She breathed hard from the exertion.

Nick shined the light
on her. “Do you want me to dig?” His voice sounded deep and intimate in this
spooky gloom.

“No, I don’t mind. It
shouldn’t be too deep and the dirt is soft. Besides you have to watch for the
nut-job.” Exercise would probably be good for her, though she’d need another
shower afterward. It was a muggy night. She doubted the temperature was much
below eighty.

The point of the
spade thumped against something hard. She would say it was a rock, but there
was no clang. She placed the tool under the object and pried it out.

“What is this?” she
whispered, bending to pick it up. Something wrapped in a small towel. She
unrolled the object within. An oblong stone in a plastic bag fell into her
palm. “Bingo.”

Chapter
Eight

“That’s it,” Nick
said, eying the phallic shaped object in Emily’s hand. “Come on. Bring it
inside.” He glanced around, making sure the killer wasn’t lurking somewhere,
beyond the reach of the lights. He pushed her toward the back door and inside.
Her safety was his primary concern.

Emily’s hands were
covered in black soil as was the gallon sized plastic bag containing the
object. She turned on the tap in the laundry sink and washed off the dirt, then
removed the object from the zip bag. “It appears to be a marble…penis. Just as
that psycho said.”

She held up the stone
cock and a spike of arousal hit him. He couldn’t help that he had sex on the
brain when he was around her.

“Why would Jared bury
it there? Surely a bank vault would be a safer place for this.” She stroked her
finger over it, up along the shaft to the folds of retracted foreskin and onto
the head. “It’s so smooth. And detailed.”

Nick grunted, glad
the impending groan didn’t emerge. She looked so hot touching that marble dick.
And he was insane for thinking such a thing was hot.

“Let’s go do some
research in my room.” She bolted toward the stairway.

“Research?” What kind
of research could they do in her bedroom? His mind went crazy with the
possibilities. After checking to be sure the backdoor was locked, he followed
her upstairs and found her sitting on the bed, typing on her laptop.

He slid onto the high
bed beside her, trying to ignore the fact this was the bed where she played
with her sex toys and slid purple dildos into that sweet, wet pussy. A rush of
arousal jolted through his cock, making it swell within his jeans. He’d have to
adjust himself if he got any harder.

Dammit, he’d only had
an orgasm about fifteen minutes ago in the shower. What was with his powered-up
libido? He couldn’t help it. This bed easily brought back memories of what he’d
done to her that morning—stroking her drenched, swollen pussy. He almost
moaned, but cleared his throat instead.

Emily pointed to the
laptop screen. “Here’s a picture of a similar marble phallus. It says it was
used in ancient fertility rituals. The penis was an important symbol to ancient
cultures.”

“Hmph.” Every time
she said penis or phallus, his own grew harder despite the dangerous situation.
He leaned back, trying to alleviate some of the pressure.

“There are huge
phalluses all over Great Britain.”

He snorted. No wonder
he couldn’t concentrate on the important things. He’d blame it on her. “I’m
sure British men would be flattered to hear you say that.”

“I mean, huge
stone
phalluses. Like statues, standing stones and gate posts.”

“Ah. I’m glad you
clarified.”

She tried to hide her
grin. “Some were put in place by the Romans when they occupied Britain. But
others predate the Roman occupation.” She clicked to another page. “Here’s one
that’s five feet tall. And some are even bigger.”

“Sounds like ancient
people were obsessed with cocks.”

She laughed, her blush
heightening. “That’s one way to put it.”

Some part of him
wished she was obsessed with his cock, giving it the attention it craved,
kissing it, sucking it.
Mmm.
He’d certainly love to return the favor,
roll her back on the bed and devour her sweet pussy right now.

But dammit, despite
how he’d touched her that morning in Atlanta, he couldn’t move past seeing
Emily as untouchable and off limits. Even if Jared hadn’t treated her right and
hadn’t loved her, Nick couldn’t step across that line any further.

He stood and paced to
the opposite side of the room, trying to dispel the lust that permeated his
brain and body. He couldn’t act on his urges no matter how he yearned for her.

“Nick?”

“What?” Had she been
talking to him? Damn, he was totally losing his focus.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, fine. Just
restless. I wanna catch this bastard.”

“As I was saying, I
have a friend who works at a museum here in town. Maybe we could show her this
tomorrow and see if she thinks it’s valuable.”

“Sure. Do you have
somewhere to lock it up for tonight? I don’t want to risk the perp getting his
hands on it.”

“Yes. There’s a safe
in this room, actually.” After setting her laptop aside, she crossed the floor
and removed a small painting from the wall to reveal the safe. When he’d
searched her house, he’d somehow missed it.

“What’s the
combination, in case I need it?” he asked.

Eying him, she lifted
a brow.

He loved that sassy
expression and the way she challenged him. She was sexy as hell. “I thought you
trusted me,” he said smoothly.

“I do.” She shrugged,
then told him the numbers as she dialed them in. Her trust in him was like a
shot of aphrodisiac to his system. He forced himself to remove his gaze from
her succulent ass in those snug lounge pants and repeated the number sequence
in his head.

The phallic object
stored inside the safe, she placed the painting back in its place, concealing
the small door.

“I’m all covered in
dirt and sweat now,” she said. “I’ll have to take another shower.”

Can I help?
He visualized her naked body in
the shower. Remembering the exact shade of her dusky pink nipples, he imagined
water streaming over them. He craved sucking the hard little nubs into his
mouth.

“Nick? Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Goodnight.” He
headed for the door and the stairway, hoping he wouldn’t lose control and break
down her bedroom door later.

* * * *

The next morning,
Nick followed Emily across the marble tiles of the museum’s atrium, watching
her cute ass twitch in that little skirt. He remembered it bare the day he’d
caught her naked in her bedroom. Damn, did he love walking behind her. He’d
like to sink his teeth into that sweet, heart-shaped ass. He wouldn’t bite too
hard.

Focus, Sullivan!

Lifting his gaze, he
concentrated on the clunk of his boots echoing to the twenty foot high coffered
ceiling and the lighter click of Emily’s heels. Hopefully, they’d find out from
Emily’s friend if this stone phallus was worth anything. Then maybe they’d know
why the perp wanted it so badly.

They took a narrow
hallway in the back to an office door. Emily knocked. A couple moments later, a
petite blond woman opened it and smiled.

“Emily, I’ve been
expecting you. Come in.”

They stepped into her
tidy, walnut paneled office which appeared to be something from the nineteenth
century.

Emily introduced Nick
to Greta. She looked too fresh, young and voluptuous to be an assistant museum
curator, but what did he know?

After some small
talk, Greta asked, “Did you bring the object you were asking me about? I can’t
wait to see it.”

“Yes.” Emily opened
her briefcase, removed the object from the linen napkin and placed it on a
desk.

“Wow. Just wow,” Greta
breathed.

Why were women so
fascinated by the marble penis?

“You found this in
your garden?”

Emily nodded,
obviously holding back the bit about who she suspected had buried it there.
“How old do you think it is?”

Greta turned on a
light and sat down on a stool to examine the object with a magnification device
for several moments. “I’m only guessing, but based on the workmanship and style
I’d say it’s at least two thousand years old. Maybe more. It looks like the
ones that have been found in the British Isles.”

“I thought so. I
researched it online last night. But I know nothing about archeology and wanted
an expert’s opinion. How much do you think it’s worth?”

“It’s difficult to
say. Sometimes these sorts of antiquities are put up for auction. So the demand
for it determines the price.”

“Is there any reason
buyers would want this besides as an art object to display?” Emily asked.

Greta frowned. “What
do you mean?”

“Um…”

“Could it have some
kind of paranormal powers?” Nick asked when Emily was silent a moment too long.
In his vision, he’d heard the killer mention Druids and magic.

“It’s doubtful. But
I’ve never come across an object with paranormal powers, so who knows?”

“What would it have been
used for when it was made?” Emily asked.

“Could’ve been used
in fertility rituals or as a sexual aid. At least this is what most experts in
the field theorize. There’s no way to know for certain.”

“A sexual aid?” Nick
asked. “Are you saying this is a two-thousand-year-old dildo?”

“Nick,” Emily
scolded, her face flushing red.

Greta smiled, then
nodded. “Possibly. Most historians are convinced Greek and Roman women used
them. So why not other cultures?”

“Yeah, why not?” Nick
muttered. If innocent little Emily could use a dildo to fulfill her sexual
needs, likely any female would. Even those several thousand years ago.

“It could be
incredibly valuable. You’ll probably want to keep it in a safe place.”

* * * *

Later that night,
Nick woke from an erotic dream, but the dream didn’t stop. It continued to
unfold in his head. Emily playing with herself, rubbing her drenched pussy and
sliding that purple dildo in, while he watched. Why was he obsessing about
this?

He sat bolt upright.
Dammit, he was having a psychic vision of something that was happening
right
now
.