Hart To Hart (9 page)

Instead of taking her right away, he cupped both breasts with one hand and pushed them together.

“I love their fullness.” Vic rubbed his palm across each nipple, sending spikes of pleasure straight down to her clit.

“Don’t I get your cock?”

He laughed. “You always were the impatient one.”

That was true, but she bet he was trying to calm down from before and was biding his time so he didn’t embarrass himself by coming too soon. “Which is why you better put that cock in my pussy before I take her away from you.”

He laughed. “I don’t believe you could walk away, but just in case, I’ll grant your wish.”

“Smart ass.”

He chuckled. A second later, the tip of his cock nestled just inside her opening. Not willing to wait, she pressed her hips back. Vic squeezed her tits and plunged in.

“Jesus, El. You feel fucking amazing.”

When he pulled out and drove back in again, flames licked her insides. She lowered her head to draw in more air. As if a start gun had fired, the two of them thrust and pushed, her need out of control. With each foray down her pussy walls, bolts of electricity pricked every cell. Her climax teetered on the edge, but she wanted to wait until Vic was ready. If this was the last time they were together, she wanted it to be incredibly memorable.

His tongue licked her shoulder, and then his lips left a trail of kisses up to her ear. When he nabbed the bottom of her ear and tugged, she spiraled out of control.

“Oh, oh, yes!” she panted.

Squeezing her eyes to maximize the pleasure, she let him transport her far away. He drove in once more and then wrapped his arm around her waist, acting as if she was his cherished possession. As his cock expanded and pulsed to the beat of his heart, hot cum seared her insides. Stars burst behind her lids and she screamed his name.

As he held her tight, Vic said nothing, but his moans of delight were enough to tell her he’d been transported far away, too. For that one slice of time, they’d become one.

*     *     *

Charlotte didn’t believe
her mother when she said Dad was totally fine. If he’d been that good, he wouldn’t have gone to the hospital in the first place, and the ER doctor wouldn’t have asked Mom to watch Dad for signs of a concussion. Not trusting either of them to tell her the whole truth, she only had one option—drive to Rock Hard. While it would only take two hours, she had to make sure she could get away for a week or two. No telling how much care her father needed. With the way Mom acted toward him, she might not be much help at all.

It had taken Charlotte an hour to get hold of her boss to tell her that she had to leave for a few days. Fortunately, they were finishing up with a client, and Patty said she could handle anything that came their way. Charlotte was lucky to work for such an awesome lady.

She’d been to her father’s place only twice, but on the last visit, he’d insisted she have a key to his house. He said there might come a time when she just needed to get away. She debated calling him to let him know of her impending arrival, but knowing him, he’d tell her not to come. Dad could be stubborn. Men like him never liked to admit they needed someone.

After waiting for her boss to give her the okay, packing, stopping for a snack, and driving carefully in the inclement weather, it was a little after one before she pulled into his drive. No car was there. Mom had texted earlier and said they’d be home sometime today, but she didn’t know exactly when. She’d taken care of him at her hotel room last night.

Charlotte parked, grabbed one of her two suitcases from the trunk, and headed up the front porch. The wind gusted and blew her long hair wildly, forcing her to rush to let herself in. “Hello? Anyone here?” She didn’t know why she called out. She didn’t really expect a response.

Dad’s ranch style home had three bedrooms. He’d already specified which one was hers, so she dragged her case to the room then returned to the car for her other suitcase, which she’d set on the floor on the passenger’s side. Head down to block the wind, she opened the door and attempted to lift her second case.
Crimeny
. It was a lot heavier than she’d remembered, and as she tried to tug on it, she lost her balance and stumbled backward.

Just as she almost righted herself, the car window shattered next to her head. Adrenaline swamped her. What the fuck was that?

A gunshot. Holy shit. All she could think of was to run as fast as she could to get the hell to safety. Zigzagging to the porch, she hoped whoever had tried to kill her was a bad shot. Her knees trembled and bile rushed up her throat. Oh, my God. This couldn’t be happening.

Charlotte yanked open the door and had the wherewithal to lock it. Without taking the time to check out the window to see if she could spot her assailant, she charged down the hall to her bedroom. After locking that door, she grabbed her purse off the bed.

The phone wasn’t in its usual spot.
Where the hell are you?
Come on. Come on.

Her fingers finally connected with her cell. Sweat beaded on her forehead as she fumbled to get it out of the side pocket. Once free, she pressed 911.

She paced as it rang and rang, her heart jammed in her throat the entire time.

“911. What is the nature of the emergency?”

“Someone just shot at me.”

“Are you injured?” The operator was almost too calm.

“No.”

“Are you in a safe place now?”

“Yes. I’m at 13406 SR 25 in Rock Hard.” She rushed to the bedroom’s side window, hoping to catch a glance at him, but this bedroom was in the back of the house. Damn. She couldn’t even see the drive.

“Officers are on the way. Remain in a safe place.”

Safe place? She looked around to find one. If she hid in the closet, and if this person broke in, he’d find her for sure. Damn. There wasn’t a safe place, but keeping out of sight would be smart.

“Is the front door locked?” the operator asked.

She had to think for a moment. “Yes.”

Charlotte ducked into the hall bathroom and kept the lights off. While it probably wouldn’t make any difference, she hid in the shower with the curtains closed.

Then her body began to shake.

Chapter Eight

W
hen sirens sounded,
Charlotte almost collapsed with relief. She stepped over the edge of the tub then pushed open the bathroom door to listen for footsteps. If the man with the gun had stayed around to see if she would come out to investigate, the arrival of the police would have him running.

The wails grew louder, easing her fears. Charlotte rushed to the front of the house and looked out. Two police cruisers and a red Jeep pulled into the drive. She unlocked and opened the front door, the wind momentarily refreshing her heated body. Men in uniform piled out of the cruisers, while a man in blue jeans and a brown leather bomber jacket stepped from the Jeep. He motioned them to check out the area then took the front porch steps two at a time.

Whoa. He stood a few inches above six feet, had light brown hair, cut short on the side and longer on top, and kind of looked like her dad in the muscle department. His face, however, was in a whole different league. Straight nose, classic cheekbones, and deep-set eyes the color of green glass. She shouldn’t have noticed his stellar appearance given the severity of what just happened, but it helped calm her to focus on something that pleasant.

He displayed a police badge in one hand while he offered a shake with his right. “I’m detective Trent Lawson. Are you Charlotte Hart?”

“Yes.” She liked his firm handshake. His palms were warm and slightly calloused.

“Any relation to Vic Hart?”

If he knew her dad, he probably knew this was his house. “He’s my father.”

“May I come in and take your statement? It’s a might cold out here.”

“Yes.” She showed him in. “I just arrived myself.” She slipped off her jacket and tossed it on the back of the sofa. “I’d get you something to drink, but I don’t know where anything is.”

He smiled and his face lit up. He was so hot. “I appreciate the offer, but I’m okay. May we sit at the table?”

“Sure.”

“Can you tell me what happened?”

If her father were here, he’d have asked the same thing. Oh, shit. When Dad found out that someone had taken a shot at her, he’d go ballistic. His reaction would occur no matter what she said or did. Charlotte inhaled and told Detective Lawson all she knew. “As soon as I realized the sound had been a gunshot, I ran.”

“You didn’t look around?”

“And give him another chance at me? Hell no. I zigzagged my way up the steps, ran in, and locked the door. Then I called you guys and hid.”

“Smart.” He jotted his notes on his iPad. “Have you called your father?”

“Not yet.”

The detective pulled out his phone and punched in a few numbers. Did he have her dad’s number in his contact list? It made sense. Dad was a PI. “Wait. Don’t call him yet.”

He pressed the off button. “Why?”

“Because Dad was in a car wreck last night. Someone rammed him from behind and drove him down an embankment. I don’t want him upset any more than necessary. That’s why I’m here. To take care of him.”

The detective stilled. “Is Vic still in the hospital?”

This was getting complicated. “No. My mom’s staying with him at her hotel. But they’re divorced. She’s only here because she has a stalker and had hired my dad to find out his identity.” While he kept a lot of emotion off his face, she could tell he was struggling to put all of the pieces together. Then reality slammed into her. “Oh, shit. Do you think someone is targeting our whole family?” Until she’d listed the offenses, she hadn’t considered that fact.

“Anything’s possible. In light of your mother’s stalker and your father’s recent attack, we should consider putting you in protective custody.”

She didn’t want that. “After I see Dad’s okay, I’ll just drive home to Kalispell.”

He shook his head. “Not good enough.”

“What do you mean?”

He pushed back his chair. “Excuse me. I’ll be right back.”

Was he kidding? He dropped the bomb about protective custody, and then just walked out? Charlotte rushed to the window. Trent Lawson was speaking with two different policemen. Was it to begin the investigation? The cops would want to retrieve the bullet to figure out the type of gun used. Given about an inch of snow lay on the ground, there might be footprints or tire tracks that could be traced, too. While she and her dad hadn’t spoken for many years, she’d learned a lot from him about forensics when he had been home.

Detective Lawson, who didn’t look much older than she was, then called someone. Whether it was her dad or his supervisor, she didn’t know. Damn, but this was one big clusterfuck. She’d come here to make sure her father was taken care of, and what happened? She’d dodged a bullet. Christ.

Wait a minute. She thought of something else. Donning her jacket, she rushed outside. Trent looked up at her and jogged toward her.

“You remember something?” He looked hopeful.

“In a way. After I put the first suitcase in the room, I went outside to retrieve my second case. This time I pulled my hood over my head because the wind was intense. I also was looking at the ground to make sure I didn’t slip.”

“And you think your shooter mistook you for someone else? Your mother perhaps?”

Damn, but he was good. “Yes.” She straightened her shoulders.

“I’ll make a note of it. Regardless of whether this person was out to harm you or your mom, it’s not safe to be here alone.”

“If I can’t go back home and I can’t stay here, what do you suggest?”

“You can stay with me.”

*     *     *

Vic’s cell rang
and when he saw it was Trent, tension knots bunched his shoulders. While Trent, as well as Max Gruden, had been instrumental in bringing down Ed Hanson and his group of terrorists, Vic usually only spoke with Trent when he needed the RHPD’s help or they needed his expertise.

“Trent?” Perhaps he’d found the identity of the man who’d run him off the road. That would be great.

“Vic, I’m afraid there’s been an incident at your house.”