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“You can kiss me,” she said. “I won’t bite too much.”
His frown deepening, he traced her collarbone with his thumb. “I do.”
She laughed. “Just you try. I’m faster on my feet than you.” She cupped his face with her hand, and the sensation was a cutting blend of pleasure and pain. She leaned in and kissed him on the lips.
He stood stock-still. “I assumed our last hookup was about pent-up emotions and hormones. What’s this time about?”
“I want you. That’s never changed.”
“Why do you want me?”
“I love you.”
He tilted his head, his eyes level on her. “Love wasn’t enough the first time. And I’ll never be easy.”
“You’re starting to sound like a broken record.” She took his hand in hers. “I’m a little older and wiser now. I see your methods might not be easy, but your heart is in the right place.” She kissed him again, and this time he placed his hands around her waist.
She closed her eyes and allowed him to taste her lips, to explore her mouth, to savor her. When he drew back, she moistened her lips and reached for the buttons of his shirt.
“This time it doesn’t have to be so frantic,” she said. “I want to enjoy this.”
Nothing was fixed between them. The issues ran too deep. And knowing that didn’t stop him from reaching for the tail of her shirt and pulling it over her head. He cupped her lace-covered breasts and kissed her again. He slowly undressed her.
They made it to the bedroom, but barely. By the time she dropped back onto his bed, he was pulling off his shirt and all but ripping his undershirt off. Shoes, socks, pants went in seconds. When she scooted up on the pillows, he was seconds behind her. And when she parted her legs, he drove into her, hoping this was slow enough for her.
She wrapped a leg around his waist and pushed her pelvis up, matching his downward thrusts. Her hands gripped his shoulders as she kissed him.
When he growled out his release, she quickly followed, and he collapsed on top of her, their sweat mingling between their naked bodies. He stroked her hair back from her face, staring, afraid to voice his feelings.
They’d made no promises. And that was good.
No matter how sweet it was now, he wouldn’t kid himself about forever. Forever was a fantasy. But God help him if she tried to leave again. He would not make it nearly so easy for her.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Wednesday, October 12, 7:30 a.m.
A local.
Keep an open mind.
The words had churned in Sharp’s head most of the night. Tessa had lain curled against his side sleeping soundly while he stared at the ceiling, one hand wrapped around her, the other tucked under his head.
When Tessa awoke, her hand slid slyly to his erection. As she stroked him, the plaguing thoughts vanished, and he was lost in pure pleasure. She straddled him and her body hungrily enveloped him. She moved up and down, desire building until they both tipped over the edge as ecstasy washed over them.
Her body coated in a fine sheen of sweat, she ran her fingers over his chest, finally resting on the rapid beat of his heart. She leaned forward and kissed his lips.
He pulled her to his side and held her close. They lay in silence for a few minutes.
“I need a shower,” she said. “Join me.”
He smiled and cupped her buttocks.
They showered, dressed, and stopped at a local diner for breakfast.
“So what’s the deal with McLean?” she asked. “No sign of him last night.”
“His mother still has a house near where we grew up. He’s likely up there.”
“You’ve known him since high school. He knew Kara.”
“He was like a big brother to her in a lot of ways.”
“Did he ever meet Diane?”
“He must have. She and Kara were friends.” Keep an open mind. “What are you suggesting?”
“He’s charming and fun to be around, but how well do you know him?”
“I also served with him. I saw him save a lot of good men.”
Keep an open mind.
“You’re frowning. I’m not trying to make you angry. I’m just asking the question.”
“Vargas asked the same questions about you.”
“She’s a smart agent. She’s willing to look under every rock for this killer.”
“It’s not McLean.”
“Okay.”
He balled up his napkin and tossed it on the table. “Before we go to the lake house, I need to pick up DNA from the county sheriff’s evidence locker and drop it at Shield.”
“What DNA?”
“We found a reference in Kara’s file suggesting there might have been more DNA found on her.”
She shook her head. “I doubled-checked the files. There was only one sample.”
“Knox indicated there’s more filed under an arson case that occurred the day Kara was found.”
“Interesting. Do you want me to test it?”
“Shield Security will do it.”
“It likely won’t be admissible.”
“I’m not looking for admissible. I’m looking for evidence.” He tossed a twenty on the table. “I called yesterday. The sample will be waiting.”
“Then let’s go.”
It took less than an hour to get the samples and drop them at Shield Security before doubling back to Roger’s tree-lined street. Now his. He didn’t want the place. Didn’t want any ties to this past, but until Kara’s killer was found, he knew he’d hold on to the old house.
He parked in the driveway and studied the white clapboard house with the expansive front porch. A massive willow tree draped its long and lazy leaves. The gardens were filled with overgrown boxwoods that cast off an aroma he always associated with the old and titled families of Virginia. As he got out of his car, he looked toward the swing that creaked back and forth. Empty stone planters now sported only dirt and dried vines. The building that had once felt oppressive now only looked lost.
“Roger wasn’t taking care of the place,” Tessa said.
Digging the key from his pocket, he walked up the wide front steps, remembering the time he had sailed down them on an old mattress destined for the dump. Kara had snickered. His mother looked horrified, as if someone had seen and would report back to Roger. She’d always lived in fear Roger would see beyond her beauty to the frightened young girl who’d moved out of her parents’ two-room house in search of love.
The steps cre
aked under their feet as they climbed to the porch. The old lock was rusted and stiff, but when he wiggled the key back and forth, the tumbler turned. The door begrudgingly swung open, letting in light that illuminated the dust dancing in the air.
He reached for the light switch, knowing from the attorney’s letter the electricity was paid until the end of the year. The dusty chandelier came to life, casting a weak light that couldn’t penetrate the dark, musty rooms. To his right was a large parlor, and to his left the formal dining room. Both sat bare now.
“Where’s the furniture?” Tessa asked.
“Roger told me when I saw him in June that he’d sold off most of it. Said he was simplifying his life.” Sharp hadn’t thought much of it. Hell, he’d always wondered how one man could use all this space. Now as his footsteps echoed in the emptiness, he realized how much Roger had lost.
Sharp had lost a sister. Roger a child. Both should have understood the other’s grief, but each was so wrapped up in misery, neither thought to reach out to the other.
Sharp climbed the center staircase, flipping on the upstairs lights as he moved. The carpet in the hallway had dulled, and the formerly colorful walls had faded.
With Tessa following silently, he paused at the first bedroom, which had been his. Turning the knob, he slowly opened the door to find it stripped bare.
He moved to the next room and hesitated.
“This was Kara’s room,” Tessa said. “I remember it.”
“Yes.” He turned the knob and switched on the light. The room remained furnished just as it had been the last time he’d seen her on the canopy bed, shooing him out so she could talk on the phone to one of her friends. Memories of that day flooded back.
“Dakota,” she’d growled at him as she sat up. “Would you butt out?”
He’d lingered, knowing it pissed her off more. Even at twenty-six he enjoyed riling her temper. “I thought you wanted to go running.”
“I do.”
He tapped his finger on his watch. “Daylight’s wasting.”
“I’m not a marine. Just go away. I’m talking to my friend Tessa.”
