As Good as Dead (38 page)

He lifted his head. She eased her palms down his arms and captured his hands in hers.

"Make love to me." The plea came from deep within her, emerging from the center of her soul. "All night long," he said, then swooped her up into his

arms.

Startled by the suddenness of his actions, she gasped, then threw her arm around his neck and nuzzled her head against his shoulder. He carried her into the bedroom, placed her on the edge of the bed and knelt in front of her. Without asking her permission, he removed her shoes and knee highs, then undid the button on her slacks, unzipped them and tugged them over her hips and off. She sat before him, shivering with anticipation, longing for him to hurry and finish the job and yet at the same time wanting to savor these moments, to make them last forever.

His next move surprised her. Instead of removing her Panties, he stood and divested himself of his pants and boxer snorts. Standing over her, a man of hard muscle and bron-ze flesh, he allowed her to study him, to caress him with her gaze. He was the most beautiful man she'd ever seen. Not beautiful in any traditional way. His features were harsh, as if chiseled from stone and his body was the same. Everything about him evoked power. Especially his large, jutting penis. Her hand trembled uncontrollably as she reached out to touch him. First his chest. His tiny male nipples went pebble; hard when she teased them. As he waited, allowing her un-: paralleled pleasure, he stood as still as a statue. She skimmed^ her open palms over his flat belly, down his slender hips and over his long, si-newy thighs. She deliberately avoided touch-' ing his sex, but whenever her fingertips got close, his penis jerked, almost as if it was begging for her touch.

After withdrawing her hands from his body, she eased to her feet and took off her panties. They were equals now. Both completely naked. Both thoroughly aroused.

He placed his open hand over her mound and squeezed. Tension tightened inside her, damn near close to the breaking point "You're almost ready," he said, his words low and deep. "I am ready. Oh, God, I'm ready." She held out her arms to him.

He toppled her into the bed sideways and came down over her. He kissed her mouth, but not long enough or thoroughly enough before his lips and tongue explored her from head to toe. And then, as he worked his way back up her body, he spread her thighs apart and petted her. Before she realized his intent, his mouth had replaced his hand, his tongue pressing and probing. Licking and sucking. Driving her wild. Within seconds she came, gushing with completion, crying out as her body shook with release.

Suddenly Jacob was gone, depriving her of his heat and strength. Weak and trembling from her orgasm and unable to do more than lift her head, she turned to seek him and found him removing a foil packet from his discarded pants. She watched in fascination as he sheathed his wet, rock-hard penis with the condom. With the aftershocks of her orgasm tingling through her, she opened her arms and her body to him when he returned to her. He lifted her hips in his big hands and thrust deep and hard, taking her with one swift lunge that united their bodies, making them one. No words were necessary. Anything either could have said would have been redundant. Their bodies spoke in a language all their own and were saying everything that needed to be said.

The feel of him inside her was ecstasy. There was no other way to describe it. Before he'd entered her, she had been empty. And now she was complete, her body made for his and his for hers. The fit was perfect. For several minutes he went about their lovemaking slowly, his movements gentle and coaxing. But when she responded, urging him into action, telling him without words that she wanted all he could give, that she could take everything he had, Jacob gave himself over completely to the animal inside him. He pumped into her with savage force and she loved it. She loved him. Loved the feel of him, the tas-te of him.

His long back hair fell to his shoulders and feathered over her upper body. They mated wildly, Reve discovering that when it came to this man, she was no lady. She had never known it could be like this. And she wanted more. She wanted it all. Everything!

Only seconds before she realized that Jacob was on the verge of climaxing, she felt her own body building to a second orgasm. As he hammered into her, she clung to him for dear life, knowing that his hunger for fulfillment would appease her own desire as well.

He came, like a raging bull, grunting and snorting, his whole body shaking with the force of his release. When he was spent, Reve came a second time, this climax more earth-shattering than the first. He collapsed on top of her, then eased °n to her side and wrapped her in his arms. She hugged him and kissed him and repeated his name over and over again.

He caressed her naked hip and nuzzled her neck as he growled, "Baby, baby…"

She never thought one word could sound so sweet. And she'd never dreamed that a man could ever make her feel this good.

If it was true, if Reve Sorrell and Jazzy Talbot were Dinahs daughters, then what would he do? Recently the thought had crossed his mind that they might be Dinah's twins, but he'd dismissed the notion because he'd believed those babies had been disposed of shortly after he'd killed Dinah for the first time. Now he wasn't so sure. What if Slim hadn't done as he'd been told? What if everything he thought was the truth was really a lie? He had to find out, had to be sure.

This was all Dinah's fault. If only she had loved him and not the great Farlan MacKinnon, she'd still be alive. And she would be his. They would be together now. They would be happy.

After undressing, he walked into the shower, savoring the feel of the warm water pep-pering his body. Why had he never paid closer attention to Jazzy Talbot? He didn't think he'd ever actually taken a good look at her face. Oh, he'd ogled her dynamite body, just li-ke all the other men in Cherokee County, but he'd seldom looked farther than her big bo-obs and her long, slim legs. Dinah had had a great figure, too, only she'd been a much smaller woman than either Jazzy or Reve Sorrell.

But then, with a father the size of Farlan MacKinnon, it was no surprise that those women possessed more Amazonian proportions, He chuckled as he soaped his body with the imported hand-milled soap he preferred.

Just to think that, all these years, the closest thing to Dinah might have been right here in his own hometown, right under his nose. Had Dinah deliberately led him away from Cherokee Pointe time and again, led him away from her precious daughter?

"You didn't want me to kill her, did you, my darling? That's why you chose all those other women."

His hand lingered lovingly over his penis, lathering and rinsing, then discarding the so-ap. He touched himself as he thought about Dinah.

If the truth about Farlan having fathered Dinah's babies came out-and it seemed inevitable that it would-how would it affect him? Would the authorities put everyone associated with Farlan, all the members of his family, under a microscope and examine their lives? He couldn't risk anyone poking his nose too closely into his personal business. He'd been careful, but he wasn't perfect. There had been times when he'd made mistakes.

"Dinah, Dinah, why did you force me to kill you?" His hand circled his erection. He sighed as he thought about that day when he'd forced himself on her. She'd tried to fight him, but she'd still been weak from having given birth to twins. Besides, she'd been a small, slender woman and easily subdued after he'd hit her a couple of times.

His mind filled with Dinah, thoughts of fucking her and killing her exciting him more and more, he came suddenly. He could feel his hands twisting the black braided ribbon around her neck, choking the life out of her. He should have known that very first time that once would never be enough. She wasn't the kind of woman who'd stay dead. And apparently her two little redheaded mongrels were just like her - they wouldn't stay dead either. But he could kill them, just as he'd killed Dinah. And if necessary, he could kill them over and over again.

As he washed the cum from his hand and penis, he considered his options. Both Jazzy and Reve had to die. And die at his hands, not the victims of some copycat killer with de-lusions of grandeur. Jazzy was in the hospital, still in a coma. Helpless. But she was surrounded by people twenty-four hours a day, he reminded himself. Wait. Wait to see if she recovers. She might never come out of that coma. There's even a chance she could still die.

But he didn't want her to die. Not yet. She should be his victim. Jazzy and Reve should be his prey. He would kill each of them, just as he'd killed Dinah. He'd take them away from Farlan as he'd taken their mother away from him.

After he killed them, would Jazzy and Reve come back again and again, just as Dinah did? How odd would that be? Three redheads coming back from the dead to haunt him, to entice him, to give him a pleasure almost beyond bearing.

He had to be very careful not to draw attention to himself in any way. But he had to get rid of Dinah's daughters. Wouldn't it be true justice if he could somehow frame Farlan MacKinnon for their murders?

Farlan had to call in several favors in order to get Griffin Powell's home telephone number. He was determined to speak to the renowned private investigator who was probing into Reve Sorrell's past. And he intended to speak to the man tonight. After all these years of wondering about Dinah and the babies, of telling himself that they were all three well and happy, he now suspected a horrible truth. Something terrible had happened to Dinah, and someone had taken the twins away from her and left them for dead. Apparently, everyone in Cherokee County knew part of the truth about Jazzy and Reve's infancy. But what they didn't know, what no one would ever suspect, was that he was their father.

He'd never forget the first time he saw Dinah. Prettiest little thing on earth. But he'd known she was a prostitute, a teenage prostitute who'd been servicing Dodd for months.

Dodd had thought he was in love with the girl, had been totally infatuated with her. But his brother-in-law had begun feeling guilty and had wanted to find a way to end their relationship. That was why he'd taken Farlan along that night, to help keep his courage bol-stered so he could end things with Dinah.

With Farlan backing him, Dodd had said goodbye to Dinah that night and walked away, intending to never come back. For days afterward, Farlan hadn't been able to get the girl out of his mind. Finally, two weeks later, he'd gone into Knoxville to see her. He'd wound up paying for her services for the entire night. After that, he'd made weekly trips to see her. Then, when he fell in love with her and asked her to get out of the business and belong to him exclusively, she admitted Dodd was still coming to see her.

"Do you love Dodd?" he'd asked.

"No, of course I don't. I'm fond of him. He's a kind, dear man, but I don't love any of my customers. Screwing guys is what I do for a living."

Farlan had grabbed her and shook her. "What about me? Is that all I am to you-just another customer?"

Tears had flooded her eyes as she shook her head. "It's different with you. You know it is. I think I fell for you that first night. Oh, damn it, Farlan, I'm crazy in love with you."

He'd taken her with him that very night and they'd stayed together in a motel in Sevierville. The next day, he'd called Max, fresh out of law school, and had him look for a place for her to live. He'd found her a nice apartment on Hyatt Street and took out a year's lease, paid for in cash. After that, Farlan got away from Cherokee Pointe as often as possible to be with her. And he had assigned Max to look after all of Dinah's financial needs.

Max. The little weasel. He'd trusted him to take care of Dinah, especially there at the end when she'd planned to take the babies and leave town.

"Farlan?" Veda called from the doorway.

He glanced at her and frowned. "Go away. Leave me alone."

"Please, we need to talk."

"We have nothing to talk about."

"Yes, we do. We have to talk about Brian." She came into the room, but hesitated several feet away from him.

"Brian is a grown man. He doesn't need you to protect him."

"If you're thinking of doing something foolish-of proclaiming those women as your daughters-then I most certainly have to protect my son. Our son. And you know Brian is yours. With those twins, you never could have been certain they were yours. For all you know, they could have been Dodd's or Max's or God knows who else could have fathered them. Dinah was a prostitute. She slept with men for money. She used you, Farlan. She never loved you."

He slapped Veda. Struck her across the mouth, the force of his blow cutting her lip and making it bleed. She cried out, then drew up into a fat ball, her blue eyes wide with fear and shock. He'd never laid a hand on her in all the years they'd been married. The fact that he'd struck her tonight shamed him.

"I'm sorry, Veda. I never meant to hit you. I never meant to hurt you. Not ever."

She lifted her head and looked at him, tears swimming in her eyes. "You want Reve Sorrell and Jazzy Talbot to be Dinah's twins, don't you? If Dinah could walk through the door right now, you'd take her back, wouldn't you?"

"Don't do this to yourself," Farlan said.

"I won't give you up," she told him. "And I won't allow you to take anything away from Brian."

"Go to bed, Veda. Leave me alone. We can talk again in the morning, after we've both had time to think things through more thoroughly." When he reached out to touch her, she cringed and withdrew from him. He nodded understanding, knowing she couldn't bear his touch now, not even a gentle one. "I'd never do anything to hurt Brian. You, of all people, must know to what lengths I'd go to protect him. I gave up the woman I loved and my two daughters so that Brian wouldn't have to lose his mother when he was just a boy. You were so crazy back then that you'd have actually killed yourself. You weren't thinking of our son when you tried to commit suicide, only of yourself."

Straightening her back, squaring her shoulders and tilting her chin, Veda glared at him, then turned and walked out of his study. He sighed heavily the moment she left, thankful to be alone again. Not hesitating, he picked up the phone on his desk and dialed Griffin Powell's private number.