Текст книги "Crush "

Автор книги: Kim Karr

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Текущая страница: 18 (всего у книги 27 страниц)

She flinched at the harshness in my tone. “When I thought you left me, I spent the weekend at his house and he made me a proposition—if he could have me, I could have Clementine.”

Everything around me seemed to be moving. The earth was no longer steady. There was a great divide between Elle and me. My world felt like it was falling apart. I fixed her with a turbulent look. “He . . . propositioned you? And what, you’ve been considering it while fucking me?”

“What?” she asked in shock.

I said it again. “Have you been considering his proposition while fucking me?”

“I can’t believe you’re asking me that.”

My hands went back to their position above her head and I pounded my fists against the concrete. “You didn’t answer me, Elle.”

There was a hesitation in her movement when her palms lifted toward my chest. I wasn’t certain if she was touching me. I couldn’t feel anything. I was numb. She lifted her head to the sky. I did too. It was filled with a million twinkling lights and if I could reach up and grab some, I’d hand them all to her and assure her everything would be all right.

But I couldn’t.

A horrible sense of foreboding washed over me. She was going to accept his proposal. My gaze swept her, lingered on her lips, and I could see that truth in the way her green eyes dulled, in the way her shoulders slumped, in the way she had yet to touch me.

Outrage burned in my blood. “Why won’t you answer me,” I demanded.

Her eyes flashed to mine but she just stood there, staring at me, saying nothing.

Something in the air shifted.

I was losing control again.

I couldn’t stand the thought. I knew I was being too loud. I knew I shouldn’t be so hostile. I knew what she was going to say. And that was just it: she was everything to me, and I was going to lose her.

With that thought in my mind, I turned and started for my vehicle. Oddly enough, I yearned for the day when I thought I was the threat to her safety. When her being with me was the problem, because at least then I had a solution.

She grabbed my upper arm. I thought she meant to slap me or push me—I wasn’t sure. I froze. Her touch was doing something to me, snapping me out of the daze I was in. She placed her other hand on my other arm and stood in front of me, staring at me like I was the devil. I think she was talking, but the blood was swooshing so loud in my ears, I couldn’t hear.

I was going to lose her.

I’d just found her and I was going to lose her.

She shook me. “Don’t do this, Logan. Don’t shut down on me,” she pleaded.

I’d lost myself in my thoughts.

“I love you. Nothing has changed. I only told you that so you could understand that I’m not in danger around Michael. That I can use what he wants to get closer but I would never do anything to jeopardize what we have. Never. Do you understand me?”

I blinked. “You’re not going to agree to his terms?”

Without hesitation she placed her palms on my chest. “No. I could never do that. I love you too much to lose you. But you have to trust me. You have to let me get closer to him. I’ll stall him while I secure my place in Clementine’s future.”

I stroked my thumb over her bottom lip. “As long as he keeps his hands off you, I will try to come to terms with the plan Miles has laid out. But Elle, if he so much as touches a hair on your head . . . I might just kill him.”

And this time, I meant it. I might not have had enough resolve to kill Tommy Flannigan with my bare hands, but if O’Shea violated Elle in any way, I couldn’t be held responsible for my actions.

Her hands slid up my chest and dug into my shoulders. “He won’t, Logan, I know he won’t. He won’t force me to do anything. He’s not like that with me.”

She was trying to convince me or maybe she was trying to convince herself, but either way, it wasn’t as if I had a choice. “Okay, Elle, I’ll go along with it as long as you promise to be careful.”

She lifted on her toes and kissed me sweetly, softly. “I love you,” she said again.

This time I said it back. “I love you, too.”

I just hoped it was enough.

DAY 34

ELLE

His breathing was steady and I timed mine to his.

In.

Out.

I’d been awake for hours, talking myself off the ledge I’d found myself balancing on.

I was worrying my lip.

I hadn’t lied to Logan, but I also wasn’t certain about what I’d told him.

I told him what I thought to be true. And the whispers in my head said everything was going to be all right. It was the logic in my brain that told a different story. I wasn’t quite sure Michael wasn’t going to pressure me the way I’d convinced Logan he wasn’t. My hope was that I could continue to stall him while convincing him Clementine’s future needed to be secured.

I had no idea if I could pull it off.

Lying on my side, watching him, I put my hand to Logan’s chest and felt the beat of his heart. It was strong and unfaltering like him, and it helped to soothe my ravaged nerves.

His hand on my back started to stroke my skin, and that, too, soothed me.

He’d woken up. I knew I shouldn’t have stirred him before dawn, but he’d already told me he had to leave early and I needed him this morning.

As if he could sense this need, or maybe because he just needed me too, he kissed my head and then disentangled himself from my limbs so he could slide down to face me. On one elbow, he said, “Good morning. You’re up early.”

I kissed his lips. “I couldn’t sleep.”

I was done not being honest.

My signal must have been crystal clear because his mouth latched onto mine instantly.

He’d made love to me once last night and fucked me twice. Laying claim to me in a way he didn’t have to. I was already his—heart, mind, body, and soul. There was no denying it.

His lips continued to move against mine, but the kiss was slow and sweet.

Wanting more, faster, I thrust my tongue inside his mouth and then took his hand and placed it on my breast.

“Elle.” He whispered my name against my mouth.

“Logan,” I breathed.

His thumb started rubbing my nipple to an aching tightness.

He shifted and I clawed at his arms. I wanted this. I wanted him to bury his cock as far inside me as he could. I didn’t want slow and sweet, not this morning, I wanted hard and fast.

For a moment, he stopped and just gazed at me. He, himself, was a sight. His chest ripped, smooth, gloriously defined. Arms perfectly shaped. Legs strong.

My body pressed forward.

When I made contact with his, he flipped me onto my back and hovered over me, fingers almost magical as they reached between us and found my clit.

Caressing my pussy, his movements quickened, and then he started rolling my clit in little circles with his thumb while he tasted my mouth like he never had before. Desperate. Needy.

I felt the same.

A storm of desire hit me like a hurricane-force wind.

My hand reached down and found his beautiful length. I stroked it. Felt it. Circled it. As soon as I did, he groaned in such ecstasy I was beyond turned on.

“Logan,” I moaned breathlessly, thrusting my hips up to meet his cock.

In an instant, he cupped me from behind and pulled me closer. I was all too happy to rub up against his hard, thick cock.

“Not yet,” he whispered in my ear. He proceeded to tease me and kissed his way down my neck. When he reached my breasts he held them together to kiss the plumped flesh, both at the same time.

The sheets felt warm beneath me but he felt even hotter. It was a heat I yearned for and one I knew would never burn me.

His lips started to trail farther down my body and his throat made murmuring sounds of appreciation. No one had ever made me feel the way he did. Like I was special. Like I was the only thing that mattered. Like I was the one who kept his heart beating, his lungs breathing.

His hands moved in conjunction with his tongue, both at a busying pace, and I found the anticipation exhilarating. My body was at ease with his hands, lips, tongue, and teeth all over it.

Goose bumps rose on the bare skin of my hip bone when he passed over it and my body practically quaked when his finger started stroking my clit again. I bucked and wiggled beneath him when his warm breath teased me this time.

Lightly, ever so lightly, he stroked me again. It was tantalizing. It was teasing. It was delicious torture.

I found myself spreading my thighs as wide as I possibly could. I opened for him. Offered myself to him. And as soon as I did, he greedily took what was already his by sliding a finger inside of me and licking me with his tongue at the same time.

His groans of appreciation aroused me even more. The fact that I could elicit pleasure from him while he was giving it to me still messed with my head. I couldn’t believe two people could be so in sync with one another.

My belly jumped when he put his mouth right on me and I rocked my hips when he added another finger.

“You like that?” he purred.

“Yes,” I called out.

His hands were on me, his mouth was all over me, his tongue in me, and when I started to buck beneath him he held me down, never once stopping the exquisite pleasure he was administering.

If there was a heaven, I was in it. Every time with him brought new levels of pleasure and I was peaking once again. Up high above the clouds, stars burst behind my lids, pleasure shot through my veins. My legs tingled all the way to my toes, my arms all the way to my fingertips. He was my sun, my moon, and my rock-steady earth. I needed him in a way I knew I shouldn’t. It made me weak, but I couldn’t fight it. Instead I came beneath him and let the pleasure take me to that place I never wanted to leave.

I cried out. “Oh God, Logan. It feels so good. Don’t stop.”

I didn’t want him to stop. I wanted this feeling to be enough to take me through whatever was going to happen with Michael because I knew, down deep in my soul, it wasn’t going to be as easy as I wanted it to be. And I was going to take a piece of this with me to remind me not to trade my soul to the devil.

Logan nuzzled me for a moment before moving back up to bury his face in my neck. It was as if he was cementing that small gift in my soul he’d just given me when he placed his hand on my heart. I, in turn, put mine over his and held it for the longest time.

His erection was hot against my thigh and when I felt I could speak I told him, “Fuck me.”

“Nothing I want to do more,” he responded in that voice that caused butterflies to take flight in my belly every time.

He pinned my hips down and pushed the first few inches of his cock inside me. Ecstasy filled the room in the form of moans. He held me in place. Watched me as he thrust inside me a few more inches. Pleasure swept through me. I wanted him so much that I had to rock my hips to get more of him inside me. “More,” I breathed.

Repositioning himself, he drove his cock in deeper. My legs wrapped around him and my ankles locked together at his back. He was pulsing inside me and I loved it. My fingers went to his scalp and I pressed them against it.

The sounds of the sheets rustled beneath us. While he thrust all the way inside me, our movements were wild, wicked, out of control. Our stomachs slapping. Our eyes watching each other with such burning desire. In this moment, there was nothing else. Just him. And me. And the need to connect. To be one.

I could tell we were both close. When his breathing became ragged and he was about to come, I found myself on the brink again as well. I arched my back to meet his thrusts. He moved faster. And then he shuddered at the same time I climaxed. We were perfectly in sync and we came together in the most beautiful way. It almost made me cry.

The irony of it all was that we were made for each other, and who knew if we were going to be able to stay together. My conviction about my ability to fool Michael was waning and I knew if push came to shove, I’d do whatever I had to for Clementine.

All I could do was hope it didn’t come to that.

LOGAN

My father was on to me.

I didn’t want to have to tell him what was going on, especially now that the stakes were higher and the DEA had threatened me. His life seemed less stressful and he was 120 days sober now. I worried that telling him I wasn’t out of danger might push him to drink.

That was how I found myself speeding down the highway at seven in the morning. With Patrick put to rest since he was behind bars, I still had to investigate the Priest and Michael O’Shea, but I had to do so before and after office hours.

One of the conversations that purposely didn’t make the table last night was that Miles had looked into www.evanmarks.com and it turned out it was a male escort service. Miles had found a charge on O’Shea’s credit card from that very site. How he got the credit card number beat the shit out of me. His brilliance far exceeded my knowledge of the Internet in any capacity, but I’d take whatever he could come up with.

After verifying Michael’s identity with the male escort indicated on the credit card receipt, Miles arranged to meet with him. In exchange for divulging what had happened when he met with O’Shea, the escort wanted a twenty-four-hour stay at the Onyx near TD Garden, complete with two escorts of his choice—before he’d meet with us.

I was happy to oblige.

I hadn’t mentioned it to Elle yet because if it panned out like the last lead, it might give us nothing, and the last thing I wanted to do was burden her with more wasted shit about Michael, but I would tell her as soon as I left today. I had to. I had promised to keep her in the loop.

I pulled up to the swanky boutique hotel and tossed the valet my keys. “I shouldn’t be more than thirty minutes.”

“I’ll keep it out front then, sir,” he responded when I handed him a C-note.

That’s what I was hoping for. Time was of the essence. I had to get into the office by nine.

I pushed through the revolving door and found Miles sitting in one of the plush red chairs. Red seemed to be a theme and I couldn’t help but think I should bring Elle here. There was a red bike in the lobby, red chairs, and specks of red in the black swirled carpeting. On second thought, it looked like the devil’s haven. “Hey, man, you ready?”

Miles stood and wiped his hands on his jeans. “He’s in room 423. I called up and told him we were on our way.”

We started for the elevator. “I’m sorry if I was a dick last night,” I offered up.

Miles pushed the up arrow. “Don’t worry about it. I know you’re under a lot of stress.”

The doors opened and we stepped in. “Why are you doing this?” I asked. “And don’t say the money. I can see how invested you are.”

He shoved his hands in his pockets. “I almost died when I was shot in the line of duty and it changed my perspective on life. I no longer wanted to fight crime on the street because I realized it wasn’t only the bad guys who were getting hurt.”

I nodded my head. He wasn’t wrong about that.

“I look at it like this—some cards that are dealt are shit and if I can help someone who deserves it get a better hand, that’s what I’m going to do.”

I offered my hand to him. “Thanks, man.”

When he shook it, I drew him close and pounded his back. I was never one for affection until I met Elle and I still wasn’t a touchy-feely kind of guy, but this just felt right. The doors opened and we dropped the contact. That was enough of that.

I glanced up and saw a hooker and a tranny leaving a room. I glanced toward Miles. “I think that’s our room.”

“And there goes what you paid for,” he huffed under his breath.

I raised a brow. “Hope he’s happy enough to sing like a canary.”

Miles laughed.

I laughed too.

Nothing was funny, but it felt good to find an ounce of humor in all this chaos.

Before the door fully closed, Miles shoved his foot in between the door and the jamb.

The dude opened the door and my eyes immediately went to the animal-print robe he was wearing.

“You Derrick?” Miles asked.

He pulled his robe closed to hide his junk. “That’s me.” He stepped to the side. “And you must be Miles.”

He nodded. I preferred no introduction and Miles kept it that way.

I stepped in and knew I was never bringing Elle here. Everything was trimmed in red, but the pillow on the bed that read “Wicked Smaht” sealed the deal. The pillows were decorated with a Boston accent?

I walked over to the bathroom and glanced in. It was empty and I gave Miles a nod.

He opened the closet. “Clear,” he said.

I nodded again.

“I’m alone,” Derrick said and flopped on the bed. “So how can I help you?”

With my arms crossed, I leaned back against the red lacquered dresser.

Miles took a seat in the chair opposite the bed. “Tell me what you know about Michael O’Shea.”

The dude twisted his lips. “The name doesn’t ring a bell.”

Miles looked annoyed as he pulled out his phone. “This guy.” He flashed Derrick a picture of O’Shea’s Facebook profile, and just the sight of his dark hair and icy blue eyes had me seeing double.

Derrick looked hesitant.

Frustrated, Miles went on. “It’s the same picture I sent you when I contacted you.”

With his blond, chin-length hair falling forward, he slicked it back with his palms. “Yeah, right, that dude. I remember him.”

Miles’s glare almost made me cringe. “You’d better. That’s why you’re here, to tell us what you know, not because we wanted to splurge on your sex life.”

He straightened his spine and gave Miles a wry smile. “By the way, thank you for that.”

If looks could kill, Derrick the dude would be dead. “Start talking,” Miles demanded impatiently.

“What do you want to know?”

“When did you meet with him?”

He scratched his chin. “It was four, maybe six weeks ago.”

“How did he contact you?”

“Through my email on Evan Marks.”

“What was the purpose of the email?”

“He told me he was looking to watch his wife get off and that he wanted to tape it.”

“He phrased it just like that?”

He laughed. “No, I doubt it. He was much more uptight.”

“What exactly did he ask you, then?”

Derrick ran a hand through his hair. “I can’t remember his exact words, man. Something like he wanted to schedule an appointment for him and his wife, and was it okay with me if he taped the encounter.”

“Do you still have the email?”

“No. I can those daily.”

Miles gave him a look.

He shrugged. “Can’t take the chance of a scandal. You have to understand, I get contacted with messages like that all the time.”

My stomach felt like iron bars and that someone had just clanged them.

Miles sat up a little straighter himself. “Okay, so you see a lot people, and yet you remember Michael O’Shea?”

The doubt was in his voice. I could tell he thought this guy was bullshitting us.

“His eyes, man. They were icy blue, almost haunted. Kind of gave me the creeps.”

Miles seemed to believe him then. “Okay, so what happened?”

“I met them in a hotel room and he sat in a chair like you are in right now and never got up, and I mean never got up. His wife answered the door, his wife and I got it on, and she walked me to the door afterwards. He watched and didn’t even jerk off.”

Miles still had his phone in his hand. “Is this the woman that was with him?”

Derrick nodded in confirmation.

This meant it was Lizzy with O’Shea during the time she was supposedly missing.

Miles glanced at me, then back toward him. He’d drawn the same conclusion. “Did she seem like she was into it or more like she was being forced?”

He crossed his legs at his ankles. “To be honest, I’m not really certain. She seemed okay but not completely into it. I mean she consented, went along with it, got off, got me off, but said nothing.”

“Did you think she was high or drunk?”

“She definitely wasn’t drunk. High, I couldn’t really say. She was just really sad.”

Miles shifted a little in his seat and I was ready to jump out of my skin. “Do you remember anything else unusual?”

He gave another small laugh. “The dude started reciting some kind of prayer while we were going at it.”

Miles’s eyes shot to mine. “Do you know what prayer?”

“Something about repenting for her deeds.”

“Anything else?”

“Look, threesomes are more my thing. That whole night was just freakin’ bizarre. It was like they were putting on a show and neither one of them wanted to be there. Other than that, no, nothing unusual happened. Straight-up sex. Nothing kinky. He paid me, he never asked to see me again, and never contacted me again.”

Miles stood.

I straightened.

“Thanks for the info.” Miles handed him his card. “If you think of anything else, call me.”

The dude didn’t get up. “Yeah, no problem.”

I started for the door and Miles followed.

“Hey,” Derrick called. “I have the room for the morning, right?”

“Yeah, man. It’s all yours,” Miles answered.

There was nothing about what I’d just learned that made me feel any better. In fact, I felt myself twitching everywhere and I couldn’t get out of there fast enough.

“Why would he do something like that?” Miles asked.

“I have no fucking idea.”

My mind was warped. I couldn’t think straight right now. My thoughts couldn’t even be vocalized. O’Shea was with Lizzy when she was “missing.” He’d never told Elle about it. He’d videotaped this fucked-up event for a reason.

I mean why?

What the fuck?

We walked toward the elevator and Miles managed to at least say what I couldn’t. “What the fuck kind of guy does that with his wife?”

“The one who wants to lay claim to my girl,” I muttered.

He pressed the button and turned his head toward me. “What did you say?”

“The same one who wants Elle,” I said and closed my eyes.

The very thought was enough to drive me crazy.