No pressure, he thought and let his own trousers drop to the floor in a jingle of keys. She flinched, just a little, but he saw. So he lay down beside her and started again, kissing, caressing, until her hands relaxed and her hips lifted, her body seeking his.
“Please,” she whispered. “I’m ready.” But her eyes were still closed.
“No, you’re not.” He kept his voice soft. “Look at me, Eve.”
She opened her eyes. There was arousal there, but still too much fear. He brought her hand to his lips, then down his body, wrapping her fingers around him.
“That feels so good,” he said huskily. “I want you to feel good, not afraid.” He covered her mouth with his once more and teased her, working one finger up into her, then two until her hips moved restlessly and little cries burst from her throat.
Now, he thought. It had to be now. Slowly, carefully, he pushed inside her, watching her face. When her eyes met his, relief hit him like a brick. Arousal had won.
And so had Eve. He started to move, never taking his eyes from hers, and when they clouded with pleasure he felt like he’d conquered the whole damn world. When she came, convulsing around him, he dropped his head to her shoulder and followed.
In the minutes afterward, he felt dizzying relief. He might have had more powerful orgasms, but never one more satisfying. There would be time for powerful later. Now he rolled them to their sides, and savored what they’d done.
Eve blew out a breath. “I’m glad that’s over,” she murmured.
Startled, he blinked down at her. “Excuse me?”
She winced. “I didn’t mean it that way. I meant… hell. We dove into a cold pool and I was so scared, but you… you were so patient with me. You couldn’t have enjoyed that very much.” Her brows lifted. “Although you were exceptionally functional.”
He snorted a surprised laugh. “I’ll have you know I enjoyed it very much. As did you.”
She smiled shyly, charmingly. “I did.”
“Now that we’re finally in the pool, we’ll both enjoy it more the next time.”
“Next time?” She looked intrigued. “When might that be?”
He laughed again. “Give me a few minutes.”
“Thank you,” she murmured. “For understanding that I needed the shove.”
“Thank you for trusting me.” He raised one brow. “And for… you know.”
“I do know,” she said sagely. “I’d be interested in knowing again. If you don’t mind.”
“I think I can sacrifice.”
Thursday, February 25, 12:30 a.m.
He drove by Adele Donner’s house, pleased to see Donald’s car in the driveway. The house was dark, its occupants tucked into bed. For now, the fact that Donner was staying with his wife and very elderly mother made for a wonderfully thin alibi.
He’d let the Hat Squad have Donner for a little while. They’d question. Interrogate. Use their tough, scary voices. Donner would deny and tremble. Maybe they’d arrest him right away, but Donner had sufficient assets to pay the bail the judge would set. Then later, he’d take him and hold him where no one would find him.
The cops would search high and low, while the press seethed and the public’s respect for Hat Squad seeped away. And when they’d been sufficiently humiliated, Donner would be found, having hanged himself, his suicide note a full confession.
Webster would close the case, defeated and maligned. And then I go back to the way things were. Quietly eliminating the dregs of society nobody would miss.
He drove away from Adele Donner’s house. It was time for the sixth of his six to die.
Thursday, February 25, 12:30 a.m.
Virginia Fox looked in the mirror, sighed angrily. She was not a beautiful woman, and that always mattered to men. She had hoped that this man would be different, but she knew he wouldn’t be. His screen name was Dasich. His real name was John.
He was a newbie to Shadowland, eager to learn, and like all the men, he knew how to sniff out the women who could actually accomplish something. She’d helped him along, shown him the ropes, knowing he’d find some excuse to skip away when he’d learned his fill. So she’d been shocked when he wanted to meet.
More shocked to learn that he lived nearby. In Wisconsin. He wanted a late-night meet. Said he worked strange shifts, but Virginia knew the code. He was married and cheating on his wife. It didn’t matter. It would never go as far as sex. It never did.
Men took one look and went running.
She wasn’t a troll. “I may not be beautiful like Natalie, but I’m okay,” she snarled to the mirror, angrily slashing lipstick over her mouth. Pretty Natalie, smart Natalie. The “I-just-got-a-promotion-and-a-big-raise” Natalie. The “I’m-your-new-boss” Natalie.
“Fuck Natalie.” She threw the lipstick in her purse.
She’d brought Natalie into Shadowland to take her down a few pegs. Make her compete in my world. But some evil genie demon had touched her and Natalie was good at poker, too. Fucking pact with Satan. “She used me. Took what I knew and got me thrown out of my own place.”
Turned on me, reported me for cheating. It wasn’t fair. Wasn’t right. I spent months building my skill points. Months. And now, it was all gone. Taken away by…
Natalie. “God, I hate that bitch.”
John had been right about her all along. Using me, just to make her look better.
Virginia would have the last laugh. At least tonight she’d be meeting a man, unlike Natalie who’d be home playing poker, all alone. Sucked into the game.
Virginia hoped Natalie got addicted. Maybe she’d lose her job. Virginia brightened. Hey, that was possible. Then Natalie would lose her swanky house, her nice car. And where do you think she’ll come crawling? “Here,” Virginia snapped aloud, pulling her front door closed behind her. And then it’ll be payback time.
She threw her purse into her car so hard it bounced. “I’ll kick your ass to the curb so hard it’ll leave skid marks. Tell me not to meet my man tonight. Tell me it’s not safe.” Greedy bitch. She just wanted all the men, the money, and the power all for herself.
Well, John was one guy Natalie wasn’t going to get. Virginia would see to that.
Thursday, February 25, 12:30 a.m.
He pulled into the parking lot, gratified to see Virginia’s car parked outside. She’d been so easy to lure, so jealous of her friend Natalie. He was sure Natalie had no idea how much her “friend” despised her. Everything had come so easily for Natalie, her career, her family, even the men that had come in and out of Natalie’s life. Men she took for granted while Virginia had been forced to listen to Natalie’s exploits.
Virginia had invited Natalie to the Shadowland poker table to get some payback, instead finding this an area where Natalie also excelled. He had to admit, in all his years he’d met few opponents so formidable. He’d actually never planned to kill Natalie Clooney. She was the closest to real competition he’d ever met. When he went back to the quiet killing, he’d reregister in Shadowland and buy another avatar. The poker table was a place he’d really grown to enjoy, so he’d go back.
And when he did, there’d be no Virginia to spoil his game. When he’d come along, Virginia had been ripe for the picking. It wasn’t hard to get her help in beating Natalie at poker. It wasn’t hard to lure her into side conversations where she bared her soul on topics from the boss that was against her, to her fear of the dark, to her incompetent therapist. He pitied anyone who had to listen to that woman for any length of time.
He despised a whining woman. His mother had whined. All the time. Finally, he’d grown tired of her. He imagined the world was weary of listening to Virginia Fox, too.