Lucy didn’t comment. Her hands fell to her lap as they listened to Quinn’s voice fill the tape. “Nothing here but Lucy,” he heard himself say. “You want me, and I want to fuck you until you can’t walk for a week. Until you can’t move. Can’t think. Can’t do anything but moan. Do you want that, Lucy?”
Okay, that was a little embarrassing. On the tape came a breathy, “Yes.”
More silence, and then his groaned, “I’ll help you, Lucy.” What she said was unintelligible, and then it was Quinn again. “Yes, touch me there, just like that. You won’t be alone. Oh, God that feels good. I’ll get you help. I’ll get you all the help you need.”
Jesus H., that was more than a little embarrassing, and he could feel his neck start to burn. He didn’t remember saying he’d get her help. He’d been so into her, so wrapped up in the moment, that he’d thought he could fix her. As if overcoming murderous impulses were curable.
On the tape, the ringing of the telephone mixed with the telling sounds coming from the hall-his deep groan and the breathy moan she made deep in her throat.
Sitting there listening, Quinn got so hard that he almost came too. He turned his head to look at Lucy, but her gaze was directed at the televison.
“I’m sorry,” she said on the tape. “I didn’t mean to do that yet.”
“You’ll make up for it.” The telephone stopped, only to start ringing again. “Shit! I’ll be right back.” Quinn’s image moved into the living room. He picked up the cordless phone next to the couch and cradled it between his shoulder and the side of his face. “Yeah?”
“Because I was busy,” he barked into the phone as he buttoned his pants. “What?” His hands stilled a second before he grasped the receiver. “Are you fucking kidding me?” He turned toward the hall. “Tell me you’re kidding me.”
After a few moments, Quinn could be seen hustling Lucy out of the house, then the tape shut off and the television filled with static.
A furrow between her brows, Lucy turned to look at him. “Why did you do that, Quinn?”
He thought he’d made her understand. Apparently not. “There were reasons to believe that you were Breathless. And we were-”
“No,” she interrupted him. “Why did you tell me you’d get me help?”
He looked away.
“There’s no help for a serial killer,” she said.
“Yeah. I know.” He could feel his ears turning hot.
“Did you offer to help the other suspects you were dating?”
“No. Things never got that far with the others.” He looked back into her face. “I didn’t touch them the way I touched you.” What did it matter now? Probably she wanted to humiliate the hell out of him before she kicked him the rest of the way to the curb. Then she’d turn the tapes over to Sergeant Mitchell and get him fired.
Instead, she did something that baffled the hell out of him. She climbed into his lap and sat on his erection. With her legs on the outsides of his thighs, she placed her hands on the sides of his face and said, “I think you liked me even when you thought I was going to kill you.”
He looked up into her blue eyes. “A little.”
She smiled and slid her hands down his chest. “I thought you weren’t going to lie to me anymore.”
He grasped her legs and pressed his fingers into her. He knew what she wanted to hear, but he couldn’t lie to her. Not even with her crotch warming his fly. “I do like you, Lucy. I like you a lot. When I’m not with you, I think about being with you. I like having you around. We’re incredible together. The sex is hot, and you make me want things I haven’t thought possible.”
“What things?”
“You.” He looked into her eyes and confessed, “A life outside of my work.”
Her hands slid up to the side of his neck. “Why can’t you have those things? Last night you said I wasn’t going anywhere.”
“I shouldn’t have said that. And I can’t believe I’m saying this now, but you’re not living here with me because you have a lot of choices. I’ve seen relationships develop out of stressful situations and tragedies, and sometimes they don’t last past the trial.”
She tugged his shirt from his jeans and pushed it up his chest. “If we’d met under normal circumstances, it still might not last.”
He grabbed her hands before it went too far and he knew he couldn’t stop. “True, but this situation is far from normal.”
“Are you trying to be honorable again?”
“Yeah.”
“Don’t.” She pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it on the floor. “I think I like you best when you’re not quite so virtuous. When you’ve lost control. When you’re willing to risk it all for a woman you think might kill you. I like it when you can’t help being bad.”
He chuckled and pushed her skirt up her thighs. She liked him best when he wasn’t trying to do the right thing?
Hell, being the good guy was hard. Bad came easy.
Chapter 16
Biggestfan: Seeks Object
of Obsession…
The next morning, Quinn stood in front of his bedroom mirror dressing for work just as he had for the past four years. Only this morning, he had an audience. She sat cross-legged in the middle of his bed, drinking coffee and wearing his T-shirt. After they’d made love yesterday, she’d handed him the tapes and they’d returned them to the evidence room.
An hour ago, he’d woken with her firm little behind against his groin and his hand on her full breast. It hadn’t been a bad way to wake up. Especially for a Monday morning. Particularly since he knew his day was going to go to hell once he got to work.
He shoved the tails of his blue dress shirt into his gray trousers and glanced at Lucy through the mirror. Her attention was directed on his hands as he zipped his pants. “I need to talk to you about something,” he said, beginning the conversation he’d been dreading since he’d read the most recent Breathless letter Saturday.
She looked up, and her eyes met his in the mirror. “What?”
“Once Sergeant Mitchell and the other detectives read the latest letter, they’re going to want to use you to draw the suspect out. I know we talked about this last week, and if you were anyone else, I’d agree with them. I’d do my best to talk you into staging something with the media or maybe a book signing. But you’re not just anyone. Not to me, and I want you to know you don’t have to do anything.”
She unfolded her legs, and Quinn’s gaze followed the progress of his T-shirt sliding up her bare thighs and behind as she scooted to the edge of the bed. She set the coffee on his dresser and came to stand in front of him. “I’ve actually given this some thought,” she said as she reached for the front of his shirt and buttoned it. “I want to do whatever it takes to get my life back as soon as possible.” She glanced up at him, then returned her gaze to the buttons. The top of her head was just beneath his chin. “As much as I like it here with you, I want my normal life back. I want you and me to be together like normal people.”
“How normal?” he asked the top of her head.
“You ask me out not because it’s your job but because you want to be with me. When you pick me up, I keep you waiting while I try on shoes like it’s a real date.” She looked up at him. “Stuff people do when they first start to go out together. We’ve kind of skipped all that. I know it sounds old-fashioned, especially considering how fast I ended up in bed with you, but I guess I want you to, you know, woo me.”