“You noticed. Finally.” He lifted her tank top and slid his hands under. The softness of her skin and the heat of her turned his dick from semi to rock hard in the span of two-point-two seconds.
“Now you sound like a man who’s been married for a long time.”
He laughed and lifted her top off, sweeping his hands over the swell of her breasts. “And now you sound bitchy and wifey.”
She arched a brow and pulled his shirt off, then raked her nails down his chest. “You’re an asshole.”
He unhooked her bra and removed it, tossing it to the floor. “I love when you whisper sweet words to me. Gets me all hot and hard.”
She rocked against him, making him hiss.
“Why, yes…yes, it does.” She slid back on his legs and palmed his erection. “What are you going to do about that, Dante?”
He wrapped his hands around her butt and stood, marched them into the bedroom and threw her on the bed, being none too gentle about it.
She’d riled him up and he was long on passion and short on patience now.
He pulled her shorts down, then her panties, stood over her while he shed his clothes, anxious to remove any barriers between them. He was in a hurry, but not so much of one that he couldn’t take a few seconds to stare down at her as she sprawled on top of the covers. Her body was beautiful, curved and lush, and he spotted several areas he wanted to take a long, slow journey across with his tongue.
God, the things her naked body did to his nervous system. She made him breathe faster, made his heart pound. He’d already started to sweat. And he was hard, tight and straining.
He sucked in a breath and leaned over her, mapping her hip with his tongue and moving along her rib cage, each harsh breath she took like a song to him. He moved up her body with his tongue, raked it across her neck and drew back to look at her, at the heat in her eyes that matched the inferno burning inside him.
He bent, kissed her, loving the taste of her, buttery and salty like popcorn as he slid his tongue between her lips and sucked. He was already out of control. This wasn’t going to be slow and easy.
Anna wrapped her legs around him, her frenzy equaling his.
He didn’t want to be gentle, not when he’d gone so long without her, and she gave him permission not to be. She scratched his arms, dug her heels into him, moaned against his lips and pressed her body against his, all clear signals that she was ready.
But he wanted her more than ready. With a gentle push, he moved her to the side and swept his hand over her sex. She was hot silk, tight and quivering as he tucked two fingers inside her and began to move. And the way she looked at him—there was no more fear or hesitation on her face. She was with him the whole way now as he brought her to the peak over and over again, held her there and then watched her fall.
There was nothing more beautiful or more arousing than watching his woman come, knowing he took her there, that she trusted him enough to let go like this. And when she opened her eyes and he saw such naked desire in them, he knew he’d reached the point of no return. He rolled over and took her mouth, kissing her as he slid inside her with one deep thrust.
She murmured his name on a gasp, and it made his balls tighten when she wrapped her legs around him, when she lifted against him to draw him in deeper. He buried his face in her neck and listened to her sighs, every breath as he ground against her and brought her with him again to the very edge.
He lifted his head and met her gaze, linked his fingers with hers, and this time when she cried out, he shuddered, going with her, letting her know he’d never let her fall without him.
After, he held her, both of them much more relaxed as they stroked each other’s bodies.
This intimacy thing, even when they yelled at each other, was becoming scarily comfortable. Dante didn’t know what was going to happen after the killer was found and he had to leave town.
“You’re quiet,” she said, her voice low and unsure.
“Was just thinking.”
“About?”
“What happens when this case is over?”
“I guess you leave.”
She made it sound so matter-of-fact, as though she didn’t care. He knew she did, that she was as unsure as he was. But that was Anna. She wouldn’t cling. And he wouldn’t ask to stay. Which left them, essentially, nowhere.
“I guess I do.”
His phone rang. They both sat up and looked at the clock. It was after midnight. Never a good thing when the phone rang that late.
“Yeah.”
He listened, looked at Anna.
She already knew.
“Be right there.”
He closed the phone, climbed out of bed to grab his pants.
“Tell me,” she said, already out of bed and reaching for clothes.
“Roman was doing a drive-by in the alley to check security. Someone killed the uniform on patrol there, then attacked Roman and stabbed him.”
She was eerily calm, on her knees listening as he spoke. “Is he dead?”
“No. He’s alive. He managed to fight off the killer. They’re taking him to the hospital. And he’s conscious.”
Roman survived. It was the first solid lead they had. Maybe they could identify the killer now. He grabbed his shoes and slid them on.
“Okay. He’s alive.”
He stood and turned to her. She still hadn’t moved. He tipped his finger under her chin. “Yes, Anna, he made it.”
She nodded and he saw the tears she refused to shed. “You’re right, he did. Let’s go to the hospital.”
Anna was worried sick about Roman, but he didn’t look too bad for being attacked. He had a stab wound in the right shoulder, had fought off the killer’s attempt to carve and beat him. The suspect hadn’t gotten around to getting the job done. He’d gotten punched a few times in the face and upper body, and he’d been kicked.
Roman had found an officer down, called it in, and he’d been attacked from behind, blindsided by the suspect who’d gotten him with the knife before he’d known what hit him. But Roman was strong and he’d fended off the attacker long enough for the black-and-whites to show up.
He was alive. It was all that mattered. She was so happy to see him alive when they got to the hospital she wanted to put her arms around him and not let go, but he was too banged up for that. As it was, she sat by his side and held his hand, at least until it was time to take his statement.
“Routine drive-by, like I’ve been doing lately, right?” he said. “I wanted to check to make sure the units were doing their job, that the surveillance equipment was in place and still working, right?”
He shifted, winced as he sat up straighter in the bed.
“Anyway, the unit was parked in the alley and the driver’s-side door was open. Figured maybe Hannesey had gotten out of the car to do a walk through the alley. So I pulled up behind him and got out to go find him.”
Dante was recording, Anna was listening.
“What time was this?” Dante asked.
“About ten-thirty or so. I was on my way home. Anyway, I get past the Dumpster and I see Hannesey down. I thought, shit. I crouched down, see that he’s dead. But he’s not beaten up like the other victims.” Roman clenched his jaw. “He cut Hannesey’s throat and just left him there to bleed to death.”
Roman shoved his hand through his hair. His hand was shaking. Anna fought back tears, imagining what it must have been like for Roman to come up on that scene.
None of them wanted to lose one of their own, and a fellow officer being killed was like losing part of yourself. She felt responsible, as if she had started this chain of events. And now Hannesey was dead.
“I’m sorry, Roman.”
“Anyway,” Roman said, lifting his chin, “I called it in and stood up, ready to go hunting down the son of a bitch. That’s when he jumped me from behind. I turned around and he stuck the knife in my upper shoulder. God, it hurt like hell. I turned around right away to face him, figuring he was going to kill me. I was trying to go for the knife in his hand, trying to wrestle it away from him, but I was down one arm. We fought and he hit me in the jaw, kicked my leg out from under me and I went down. That’s when he kicked me in the ribs.”
Anna could visualize the scene. Roman was lucky the same thing hadn’t happened to him that happened to Hannesey. The killer could have taken the knife to his throat, too. “I’m glad you had fast reflexes.”
“Me, too. I knew he was going to kill me, just like the others. I got mad. Mad for George, and your dad, and for Jeff. For Hannesey, too. I fought back. And then I heard the sirens. He must have, too, because he took off.”
“I’m glad you made it.”
“I can’t believe the son of a bitch jumped me. I can’t believe I didn’t know he was there. How could I not know he was right goddamn behind me?”
Anna winced, knowing exactly what it was like to be taken by surprise in that alley. Images flooded her of that night so long ago, of what it felt like to have Maclin’s arms go around her and drag her into the Dumpster.
This isn’t about you. Snap out of it!
“Did you see his face?” Dante asked.
Roman shook his head. “He was dressed all in black, wore one of those biker skull masks that hide everything but your eyes. His eyes were dark brown. That’s all I remember.”
“How about build?” Anna asked.
“Pretty tall. At least six foot. Well built. Not like a bodybuilder, but good muscle. He wore thick gloves and shit-kicker boots.”
Anna turned to Dante. “That explains the marks on the bodies.”
Dante nodded. “But he stabbed Roman. That makes no sense.”
“He didn’t choose Roman as a victim. It was coincidence they were in the alley at the same time,” Anna said. “I don’t think he was prepared. Maybe he was setting the scene for his next victim.”
“Or even revisiting the scene to relive the kills. Hannesey and then Roman surprised him,” Dante suggested. “Maybe that’s why there was a change in his method. Roman being there threw him off his game.”
“I don’t care what it was,” Roman said. “I’m just damn glad I’m alive.”
Anna leaned over and squeezed his hand. “So am I. Very glad.”
Roman smiled up at her.
“Do you need me to call Tess for you?”
Roman shook his head. “Already did. She’s out of town on an audit. Wanted to cancel it and come right back, but I told her no. They’re going to spring me tomorrow anyway and she’ll be back by the weekend, so I promised her she could wait on me hand and foot then.”
Dante laughed. “Milk it for all it’s worth, buddy.”
“I intend to.” Roman waggled his brows.
“You’re terrible,” Anna said.
“No, I’m not. And admit it. You’re happy.”
“I am,” she said, fighting back tears.
He squeezed her hand. “Anna, stop that. I’m fine. Just some bruises and sore ribs, and the wound is superficial. A few stitches, is all.”
Anna exhaled a sigh and nodded. “I can’t tell you how relieved I am that you’re all right. I don’t think I can take losing anyone else. We have to catch this guy before anyone else dies.”
“We have leads now that we didn’t have before,” Dante said. “He’s losing his grip. I can feel it. He’s going to fuck up and then he’s ours.”
For the first time since this whole thing started, Anna was beginning to believe it.
“It’s also possible the suspect thinks Roman can identify him. That might make him desperate, and careless,” Dante added. “He might come after Roman.”
Roman laid his hands over his stomach. “Gee, thanks. Make me a target again.”
Anna turned to Roman. “There are uniforms stationed outside your room, and when you’re discharged there will be someone at the house.”
Roman laughed, and then winced, grasping his side. “I was teasing. I don’t need protection at the house. A good night’s sleep and I’ll be fine once I go home.”
“And we’re not taking any chances on your life,” Anna said. “You take the protection, understand?”
Roman looked to Dante, who just shrugged, so he said, “Yes, ma’am.”
She stood, leaned over and kissed Roman’s brow. “Rest.”
He grabbed her hand. “He’s going to keep doing this until we’re all dead.”
She nodded. “I know.”
“You need to get them out of here.”
“Them?”
“Dante and Gabe. They’re next.”
She closed her eyes, knowing Roman was right. “I know.”
Roman looked worried, his normal bravado gone. “I don’t want to lose anyone else, Anna.”
She sucked in a breath and swept her hand over Roman’s hair. “I don’t want that, either. We’re going to protect all of you. I promise. No one else is going to die.”
Anna decided that testosterone made men stupid. What part of bodies dropping all around them could they not fathom? Even strong, capable men could be killed.
But no, they wouldn’t listen, and now Dante was off meeting with Gabe about some lead he was working on. She was so irritated with him—with them both—she hoped he hung out with Gabe all night.
Dante had asked her to come with him, but she declined out of simple anger. And then he’d irritated her even more by telling her that whenever he wasn’t with her, a uniform would be. She was a target, too.
She’d argued with him until they’d ended up shouting at each other, but she couldn’t argue with her captain, who’d insisted that either Dante would be there to provide protection or a uniformed officer would.
Dammit. She hated feeling as if she couldn’t take care of herself.
She had agreed with Roman’s statement in the hospital: Dante and Gabe were targets and they should leave. They both said no and neither of them were her favorite people right now. And she still couldn’t convince Pohanski to put her back on the case.
Damn men.
The less she saw of any of them right now the better. The only male she liked at the moment was Rusty, and he had no balls, so he was an acceptable choice.
She and Rusty were curled up in bed and she was going to read every square inch of case files tonight if it took her the entire night. It wasn’t as though she spent any time sleeping anyway.
They needed a break in the case. Surveillance equipment at the scene in the alley showed the suspect sneaking down the alley on foot and disappearing behind the Dumpster. He lingered there for a while, but their view was skewed, so no idea what he’d been doing back there. Then Hannesey had shown up and was taken down, and Roman came on the scene to find Hannesey and the suspect jumped him from behind. But Roman was right—it was hard to distinguish anything from the way the killer was dressed all in black, his face obscured by the skull mask.