His callused hands reached under the T-shirt she wore and threw her bra up over the swell of her breasts. He palmed them, his thumbs and forefingers clamping around her nipples as he plunged into her flesh from behind. He rode her hard, making her gasp and groan, his tight balls smacking against the back of her as he sank in and out of her like a man obsessed.
“All mine,” he growled into her ear. His voice was hoarse. “My nipples. My pussy. My ass.
My woman
.”
Nikki closed her eyes and let the arousal overwhelm her. Her breathing was labored, her heart thumping like mad. Her nipples were so stiff that his hold on them was pleasurable to the point of pain.
He released her breasts, leaving them there to jiggle with each thrust, his hands settling on her raised buttocks. He cupped the cheeks, kneading them with his callused hands, simultaneously pumping in and out of her at a merciless pace.
Whack!
Nikki gasped, the small, stinging smack to her bottom startling. Her eyes widened as she wondered if she and Thomas had read the same books . . . only the detective had never admitted it.
Whack! Whack!
“Ooooh,” she groaned.
The books hadn’t lied. Making blood rush to her bottom
did
sensitize another, crucial part of her anatomy.
“You like that?” Thomas murmured into her ear, his voice thick. “Can you feel my cock better, baby?”
“Yes,” she gasped. “One more time. A bit harder, please.”
Whack! Whack! Whack!
“Oooooh!”
He took her impossibly harder, sinking in and out of her flesh like he meant to brand it.
“Thomas,”
she groaned, heat rushing to her face and nipples.
“Oh, god.”
Nikki moaned low in her throat, throwing her hips back at him as a violent orgasm ripped through her belly.
He growled as he fucked her, pounding into her harder and deeper and faster. His hands left her buttocks and cupped her breasts again. “I’m coming, too,” he gritted out. His muscles tensed, his breathing grew ragged against her ear. His hands squeezed her breasts, reminding her who they belonged to.
“All mine,” he rasped, his powerful body shuddering. She could practically hear his jaw clenching.
“Mine.”
Thomas groaned loudly as he came, hot semen spurting from his cock to warm her insides. He kept up the steady pace, pumping away inside of her until his balls were depleted.
When it was over, when they were both exhausted, they didn’t move for a long moment. He kept her pinned to the sofa, her buttocks up in the air, his palms tenderly massaging the warm spots.
“I came so hard I damn near passed out,” Thomas muttered, finally letting Nikki up. He lifted his T-shirt, using the edge to mop perspiration from his forehead.
She chuckled softly. “Me, too.” An eyebrow arched as she turned on her heel to stare at him. She studied his face, a suspicious look in her eye.
He grunted. “What?”
“You read the e-books from my computer, didn’t you?”
He grinned.
Her smile came slowly.
“Lady Polly and the Pirate Master?”
He scratched the stubble on his cheek. “You gotta admit,” Thomas drawled. “That scene when Captain Triston spanked Polly after he caught her trying to seduce that dude with the gimp leg was pretty hot.”
Nikki shook her head, unable to stop herself from laughing. “So what made you decide to try the spanking on me?” she asked as she pulled off her jeans.
He shrugged. “It came out of nowhere, to be honest. I’m just glad you liked it,” he mumbled, “or I would have felt like a real dumb asshole.”
Her arms crossed under her breasts. She huffed. “You mean that spanking was for real?”
His face colored slightly. “Only the first whack.” He frowned at the look on her face. “I was feeling territorial, okay? I know we made up and all, but I still have a hard time not knowing where the hell you’ve been all weekend!”
Nikki rolled her eyes as she pulled her T-shirt off. “You really meant it when you said you were the jealous type, didn’t you?”
“Yes.” He grunted. “So where were you?”
She shook her head and sighed, too amused to be angry. “Millersburg,” she answered, squatting down to tug off the jeans pooled around Thomas’s ankles. “You know, that notoriously seedy hotbed of Amish party life.”
His frown deepened. “You mean to tell me I’ve been walking around with a broken heart the whole damn weekend when all along you’ve been hanging out with corn-husking ZZ Top look-alikes?”
Nikki shrugged. “Apparently so. Hey, want some Amish cheese?”
“No,” he snapped.
One eyebrow slowly inched up. “Pistachios?” she murmured.
“Maybe later,” Thomas sniffed. “I’m not in the mood.”
“What are you in the mood for?” she whispered, standing to wrap her arms around his neck.
Thomas bent his head to kiss her. He thrust his tongue in between her lips, groaning into her mouth when she ground her body against his quickly stiffening erection.
He picked Nikki up and carried her into the bedroom, his lips never leaving hers, deciding to show her what he was in the mood for instead of telling her.
“Priscilla,” Claude’s voice purred from the cell phone.
“I don’t think you understand what it is I want from you.”
Cilla’s teeth ground together as she paced back and forth in her bedroom. She could only hope her father was listening in on this conversation. More specifically, she could only pray he was tracing Claude’s location.
“Name your price,” she said after she blew out a puff of smoke from the cigarette dangling between her lips. “Whatever it is, I’ll pay it.”
Claude chuckled. “Master doesn’t want your money, silly slave girl. He wants your heart.”
She rolled her eyes. How utterly sweet and utterly provincial. “Fine. You have it. Does this mean you’ll leave me alone now?”
He was quiet for a long moment. Eerily silent. Something about it sent chills down her spine.
“You’re a bad girl, Priscilla. You’re naughty, just like Lisa. You pretend to be someone you aren’t.”
“Who doesn’t online?” Cilla snapped. “Look! I am growing weary and my patience thin. Either name a price or go to the media. Either way, I refuse to play this game with you a moment longer. Especially since it’ll be
my
word against yours!”
“Yes, it will be. But do you really want to take that chance?”
Silence.
“Meet me in an hour in the alleyway next to Jake’s down in the Flats. If you’re late, or if you bring anyone with you, every major television station will own a copy of our chat transcripts . . . as well as proof that you are in fact the owner of the SpankMeImANaughtyGirl account.”
She hysterically wondered if he could be believed. Her career couldn’t end like this—not like this! “An hour?” Cilla said shakily. “But what about—”
She cursed under her breath as the line went dead.
Damn it!
Thomas’s cell phone rang, the interruption making him
frown. He stopped thrusting and bent his neck to kiss the tip of Nikki’s nose before reaching for the phone. His eyebrows rose as he pointedly looked at the handcuffs securing her to the bed. “Don’t go anywhere,” he ordered. She grinned. “Yeah?”
“Cavanah.”
“Ben? What’s up?”
“You at Dr. Adenike’s?”
“Yeah. Why?”
Ben sighed. “I’ll send over two cops to watch her place. You better get down here.”
Thomas stilled. “What’s going on, O’Rourke?”
“James. He escaped.”
“What?”
Thomas noticed the frightened way Nikki was staring at him, so he ran a soothing hand over her belly before sitting up in the bed. “He escaped?” he asked, looking at a wide-eyed Nikki.
“Yes. And it gets worse.”
Of course. “I hate to ask, but know I have to. How?”
“A missing woman report just came in,” Ben said quietly.
Thomas closed his eyes. “Who?”
“You ready for this?”
“Tell me.”
“Priscilla Harrington-Barnsworth.”
His eyes flew open and then narrowed. “Why does that name ring a bell?” Thomas muttered.
“Cavanah! Hello!
Senator
Priscilla Harrington-Barnsworth.”
“Shit.”
“Exactly. And I just had a chat with her dad. It seems the senator has an, um,
interesting
online life.”
Thomas took a deep breath and exhaled. “I’ll be right there.”
Chapter 27
Monday, July 28 1:37 A.M.
“This report just in: Channel One News has learned that Ohio Senator Priscilla Harrington-Barnsworth was reported missing to the Cleveland Police Department. The report was filed a little over thirty minutes ago by her husband and father. Making this news more shocking still is a second report that just came in . . .”
Nikki paced back and forth in her living room, now wondering how idiotic she’d been to decide on staying put rather than going to Kim’s. The fact that two policemen were outside offered little in the way of comfort. Especially considering that a police officer, James, had already tried to kill her. If only she had thought of that before Thomas left.
Her eyes flicked back to the television where the shocked anchorman was continuing his report.
“Are you sure?” the anchorman muttered to someone off-camera. He nodded, swallowed, and then looked up into the camera’s eye. “It appears that former police detective James Merdino, the man arrested in connection with the brutal rape and slaying murders of nearly ten women in the Cleveland Metropolitan area, escaped from county lockup approximately one to two hours prior to Senator Harrington-Barnsworth’s disappearance. Speculation is running rampant as to whether or not there might be a connection between these two cases. The senator’s spokesman has declined to comment.”
The phone rang, causing Nikki to yelp. Clutching her heart, she briefly closed her eyes and drew in a deep, calming breath. “Hello?” she whispered into the phone.
“Nik . . . my God. Are you watching the news?” Kim breathed out.
Nikki swallowed. “Yeah. I never particularly liked your old friend Cilla on a personal level, but goodness.” She clutched her stomach. “I feel like I’m going to be sick.”
“Is Thomas there with you?” Kim quickly asked.
“No. But there are two policemen parked outside my window.”
“Don’t let either of them in,” she said desperately. “Please. I’m on my way over to get you.”
Nikki’s heart was beating so fast she felt like she might vomit. “Did you have another dream?” she asked, her voice catching.
“Just promise me you won’t open the door for anybody but me,” Kim said. “Promise me!”
“I—I promise,” Nikki stuttered. “Kim, I’m frightened. I—”
The phone line went dead. Her eyes widened.
Oh God.
“Where are you going?” Megan asked anxiously. She
wrung her hands together in her lap, her eyes big and troubled. “Why don’t you call Detective Cavanah and tell him your worries?”
“To get Nikki,” Kim muttered as she seized a knife from the cutting block on the kitchen counter. “And I did try to call him. His cell’s been busy for the last five minutes. I’ve got no more time to play with.”
“But your ankle—”
“—is fine,” Kim cut in. She took a deep breath. “Look, Megan, I know you think my dreams are kooky, but the fact is, they came true before.” She felt like she was going to be sick she was so worried. “I have to get to Nik,” she said, her voice trembling. “If I lose her . . .”
“I’m going with you,” Megan firmly declared, surging up from the chair.
Kim stilled. Her eyes widened. “No,” she said softly, zipping up her jacket. “You’re not going.”
“But Kim—”
“No!” She gentled her severe expression a bit. “You could get hurt and I . . .” Kim cleared her throat, glancing away. “I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
Her stepmother looked at her as though she’d lost her mind. “And I
do
want something to happen to
you?
” she asked in the loudest, most incredulous tone of voice Kim had ever heard come from her mouth. It did things to her heart she had no time to dwell on.
Megan’s lips tightened. “I know how to use that gun. And what’s more, I
will
use it if need be. I am so damn sick of being helpless. And I’m sick of men. They all suck!”
Kim blinked. Given the situation, there was little room for amusement, yet a guttural sound ripped from her throat as she tried to stifle a laugh. She’d never seen Megan so angry and determined. Dressed as she was in a white silk blouse and designer black slacks, her hair fashionably pinned back in a high-class coif, her stepmother could have been the pin-up girl for idle, useless rich women. Her demeanor, however, was in stark contrast to her attire.
“I would agree that as a species, men suck,” Kim said, amused. “However, I think this situation goes a little beyond that.”
Megan’s chin notched up. “I’m going with you, Kimberly, and that is that.”
“Megan! We’re not Cagney and Lacey!” Kim huffed.
“And you are not Xena the Warrior Princess! You lucked out once with a knife. We won’t chance twice.” Megan inclined her head. “Go start the car. I’ll be but a moment. I need to retrieve my gun. Oh, and my black gloves.”
Kim’s eyebrows drew together. “Black gloves?”
Megan shrugged. “It’s what they do in the movies, dear. There must be a reason for it.”
“Huh.” Kim couldn’t think of anything to say to that. She shook her head then hightailed it into the garage.
The lights inside the apartment flickered out, making
Nikki gasp. She instinctively stilled, her body shaking. She swallowed roughly as her eyes tried to adjust to the pitch-blackness they’d been engulfed in.