Slipping her tongue between her lips, she flicked up the same path her hand had taken. Reaching his tip, she slid her lips over him, taking him fully into her mouth.
He filled her, pressing against her tongue, moving down her throat. She took him as far into her mouth as she could, then slid her lips back to his tip.
A shudder shook his body. He cupped her head in his hands as if he needed to hold on.
She circled his thighs, each with one arm. She could feel his muscles tremble, feel him thrust forward each time she took him into her mouth. She arched her back, thrusting her breasts forward against his thighs. As she sank her lips over him, her nipples rubbed the rough hair on his legs. Tingles spread over her skin in waves.
He gripped her shoulders, as if desperate to hang on, desperate to keep control.
But he wasn’t in control.
Heat surged through her. She let him slide from her lips, cupping him between her breasts, moving against him. The friction of his skin and hair against her nipples made her want to cry out. It made her want more.
“Diana.” Bobby’s voice sounded low, gruff. “We need to slow down.”
She smiled, wanting to send him over the edge, wanting to feel him totally lose control. But he was right. Not yet.
She rose from her knees, skimming kisses up his body until she reached his lips.
“Come to bed with me. I want to show you some things too.”
Diana nodded, not sure if her voice would work, not wanting to talk.
He took her hand. Together they walked into his bedroom. Light streamed across the white span of comforter covering the bed.
Bobby hesitated in the doorway. He stepped back toward the dark living room, away from her.
Cool air rushed around her, chilling her skin where his heat used to be. “Where are you going?”
He gestured to the living room. “The light’s kind of bright in the bedroom, don’t you think?”
She shook her head. She didn’t want him to step away from her, even for a second. She didn’t want to be in the dark again. “I think it’s perfect. I want to see your eyes.”
He grinned and swept her back into his arms. Moving his hands down her sides, he quickly removed her jeans. Cupping her buttocks, he lifted her up against him, kissing her long and hard before lowering her to the bed and sitting beside her. “Lie back. Let me show you how I feel.”
She wanted to let him show her. She wanted to let him have his way, take her places she’d only visited in dreams. But not now. Not yet.
Putting her palm on his chest, she pushed him back onto the mattress. “Later. I’m not finished.” She straddled his hips, moving against his hard length before sinking onto him.
He filled her, stretched her so exquisitely she had to catch her breath. Then she started moving, her breasts swaying over him.
He caught her nipples in his mouth, kissing her, suckling her. All the while he watched her, his eyes soaking her in. Then she arched her back and rode him. And as the pressure inside her crested and broke, she felt like the most powerful woman on earth.
The Copycat Killer
He watched the single light in the window of the gargantuan stone mansion on the edge of Lake Mendota. The husband was gone, at least overnight. He was sure of it. He’d watched him carry a suitcase to his car and drive away this afternoon. The wife would be alone.
But not for long.
When she stepped outside on her terrace for her nightly glass of chardonnay, he’d be there.
He checked his syringe, his bag, the gardener’s cart in the back of his van. With the thick trees hugging the lot’s perimeter, this would be a piece of cake. Even easier than the laundromat. Less chance of being seen.
At the mansion, the porch light switched on and a slender, dark-haired woman stepped onto the patio, her wineglass shining clear and light yellow in her hand. A breeze kicked up from the west, lifting her hair and the hem of her skirt.
Beautiful.
Vulnerable.
But he didn’t feel the surge of pleasure warm his blood. Not for this one. She was Dryden’s. Part of whatever it was he was planning.
He turned off the dome light in his van and opened the door. Grabbing his bag and syringe, he slipped out and circled to the back to fetch the other tools of his trade.
He’d do his job tonight. Take this one to the place he’d taken the others. Tie her tight and secure. Wait for Dryden’s further instructions.
And after he bagged this last one, he’d figure out how to get his hands on what he really wanted.
His groin tightened at the thought of her.
It wouldn’t be long now.
Ed Dryden might not like it, but there came a time when a man stopped asking permission. Dryden had led him to her. He might as well have given her to him as the father gives the bride.
And the Copycat Killer was really looking forward to his and Diana’s honeymoon.
Bobby
Bobby climbed out of bed, careful not to wake Diana. His legs wobbled the first few steps. His head still throbbed.
He probably should have taken things a little slower last night. The doctor had advised avoiding "too much activity," and he was pretty sure what he and Diana had done had far surpassed that threshold.
Even now, he should take it slower, and not just physically. He should find out for certain things had changed before he charged headlong into his feelings for Diana. But the energy bubbling in his blood like champagne was too delicious not to enjoy. He had believed their relationship was over. To discover it didn’t have to be…
He resisted the urge to crawl back into bed, wake Diana, and make up for lost time. Instead he headed for the kitchen and his laptop. He could stay home for a few hours, take it easy, and still get some work done. His personal life might have taken a one-eighty, but his professional life was the same.
The Copycat Killer was still out there.
He wasn’t sure how much time had passed when Diana padded into the room, her hair wet from the shower. She stepped up behind him and rubbed her hand over his back. “I thought you were under orders to rest today.”
Bobby turned to her. Smiling, he pushed himself up from his chair. “I think I already blew those orders last night.”
“How’s your head?”
“Much better.”
“Really?”
“You were the medicine I needed.” He looped an arm around her waist and pulled her close. “You smell so good.”
“I took a shower.”
“Mmm…” He nuzzled her neck. “You smelled even better last night.”
“I missed you, Bobby.”
“I missed you too.”
“I wish we could just go back to bed… and stay there all day.”
He tilted his wrist to check his watch. “I might be able to carve out a couple of—”
A knock sounded on the door.
Diana frowned. “Who is that?”
“Only one way to find out.” Reluctantly, Bobby stepped away from Diana’s warmth and answered the door.
Val stood on the front step. She looked worse than he remembered, her face purpled with bruises, her arm pinned to her chest in a sling.
“Hey, Val, you look awful.”
“You don’t look so good yourself. But I’m glad I caught you. I was wondering if I could get a lift down to Madison. It turns out that in addition to not being an effective beauty regimen, being hit by a dump truck is not conducive to driving. Not with a bum arm anyway.”