It's A Crime (14 page)

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Authors: C.E. Hansen

BOOK: It's A Crime
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“If I were you
, I would look before opening the door from now on, and it wouldn’t hurt to advise the doorman you were physically threatened today.”

“He really w
ouldn’t have done anything. I don’t think...” I sounded unsure to my own ears. “He’s an asshole.  I didn’t know it was him, I wouldn’t have opened the door.” I was rambling, pleading my case.  Still trembling from the adrenaline that coursed through my body. “He’s a model, it’s how I met him. I modeled a long time ago, and he, um, he is well known in the fashion world. It’s how I met him. I attended a charity function featuring models and big named designers…I own a boutique that caters to, um, I met him...” I trailed off. I had been talking nonsensically without pause. “I’m sorry…I didn’t mean to keep rambling.”

“Well, I could see w
hy it would be difficult to let you go.” Cole walked over to the counter where he found the corkscrew and decanter I had left. He opened the bottle of wine he brought and expertly poured it into the decanter, turning to look at me standing in the middle of the kitchen watching him. I was totally unfocused; I was a mess.

“That’s got to breathe for a while before we can drink it.”
His voice snapped me out of my momentary trance. Looking around the room he walked over to my bar, picked up the 21-year scotch and poured two glasses. He shoved one glass into my hand, taking a sip of the other.

“Go ahead.
Drink that. It’ll steady your nerves.”

I did as
instructed and after my initial sip I paused, then with the gusto of a sailor I tilted the glass up and draining the remaining scotch, grimacing as I swallowed. I held out the glass for Cole to refill.

What a lady I was.

He placed his glass on the counter and poured me another drink, watching me closely, smiling at my attempt to calm myself.

He watched as I drank that down in one gulp too.

“Whoa, there, little lady, take it easy.” He smiled. “You’re going to make it too easy for me to have my way with you. Not that I mind, of course.”

“T
here is nothing little about me,” I countered. Relaxing for the first time tonight I smiled, wickedly. “And...bring it on.”

I
gazed into his eyes and damn near forgot all about what happened with Jonathan.
God, please tell me how anyone could think of anything, or anyone, with this man in the room, especially with him standing so close, it’s beyond me.

The sensual curving of his lips as he smiled caused
that pulling feeling to start in my core. The build-up of hunger, the sensual craving, the need. A flush spread from my chest to my neck. I didn’t want it to appear as though all I could think of was sex when he was near, but that was exactly what I did think about. Or could that be the scotch talking?
Doubtful
.

It just
figured the one man who could make me feel
this
way was the one who lived halfway across the country. He probably had no use for me after this two-day sexathon, and I was afraid I would not see him again after tonight.

“Um…
thank you for that” I nodded toward the entryway, indicating the scene that took place there several minutes ago. I blushed from anger. “I don’t get him. Why can’t he just leave me alone?”

“Like I said, I can understand his not wanting to let you go
,” Cole repeated, brushing the back of his hand softly against my cheek. I instantly got wet. I wanted more.

“Umm, really
…Do
you
want to let me go?”

The words came out of my mouth before my brain
could rein them back in. I instantly dropped my gaze from his and walked into the kitchen, busying myself with the preparation of our meal. I placed the steaks on the marble butcher block in an attempt to get them to room temperature and started making the shrimp cocktail. Afterward, I rubbed fresh garlic, rosemary and olive oil into the flesh of the steak.


Want a beer?” I asked trying to change the subject.

I couldn’t believe I
said what I said to him. What would asking him if he wanted to let me go accomplish? I’m sure I didn’t want an answer. I’m sure “
I never wanted to let you go”
was right on the tip of his tongue. What the hell was wrong with me? He should be running as fast as possible away from me, back to Colorado. I brought all kinds of shit to whatever relationship I was in. I was mortified at what came running out of my mouth, but determined to not let it ruin this evening. After all, he was leaving to go back to Colorado tomorrow and I wanted tonight to be perfect.

Cole walked back into the kitchen.
I pointed to the fridge.


They’re in there, the top shelf.” I turned back to the shrimp. “Frosty mugs on the door of the freezer.”

I hear
d Cole open the door of the fridge followed shortly with the sound of pouring.

“Grab me one
, too. Thanks,” I turned around, making the cocktail sauce for the ginormous shrimp I got us from the fish market. He smiled holding up the two mugs.

“Way ahead of
you.” He walked over and gave me the beer he poured. I took a sip and set my mug down to wash my hands. He set his down and stood directly behind me. Putting his arms around my waist, he kissed the top of my head and began trailing kisses down my neck. I reluctantly let out a giggle.

“I love when you make that sound
,” he whispered against my skin, his breath hot. “It’s sexy.” Memories assailed me; my legs weakened. I got such a feeling of deja vu just then, chills ran up my spine.

He moved his hands up my sides, then around to the
front, cupping my breasts with his large hands, his fingers slowly torturing my nipples. He stopped briefly and I could tell he felt the rigidness of his “surprise.” His hands skimmed over the swollen flesh of my breasts spilling over the top of the corset I wore. His hardness pressed against the small of my back.

He
continued using his thumbs to tease my nipples. I wiped my hands on the dishtowel and turned to face him. I will never get tired of looking into his eyes. His thick black hair framed his beautiful face. My hands slid up to grab both sides of his head and pulled his lips to me, sealing his to mine. My tongue slowly savoring his, he licked me, making me long to have him inside me. I sucked on his tongue; his groan was the most erotic sound I’d ever hard, making the flesh between my legs tighten viciously.

The passion in his kiss
whisked the breath from my body. His tongue sliding deeper into my mouth made me tremble. As he bent me backward, the counter pushed against my lower back. His kiss became more arduous, more passionate.

H
eat radiated through his shirt from his muscular chest. The muscles moving beneath his skin and the agility in the way he moved sent a delicious sensuality flowing through me.

“Let’s start this over
, shall we?” Cole whispered in my ear. My reply was a perceptible moan. His breath tickled my senses. I found the single brain cell still working and tried sparking it.

“Oh
...I forgot,” I panted, out of breath; the headiness from being near him made me dizzy. My heart rate accelerated. I whispered playfully, my voice husky, “When I went shopping today I bought you a little surprise, from little me.”

“Mmm, I felt
something.” He stopped and smiled. “
And there is nothing little about you
.”

He reached down and lifted me
up like a child. I wrapped my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist, clinging clung to him like a monkey. He carried me to my sectional sofa, his head buried in the curve between my head and neck, anxious to
open
the surprise waiting for him under my clothes. His breath felt hot on my skin, sending a shiver through me, tingling.

I was so out of my element where he was concerned.
I never meant to let anyone in, never wanted commitment, I was so afraid of being left alone again…but he threw out a rope and lassoed me in. I was always in control, but he was such a force of nature I couldn’t get enough of him.

He lowered me
to the floor when we reached the sofa. His head still nuzzled between my neck and shoulder he inhaled in my scent, deeply. His breathlessness sent a shiver through my body, starting at my ear, down to my throbbing midsection. I was on fire. I opened the button of my jeans, unzipped. I rocked my hips side-to-side and shimmied out, tossing them to the side with my leg.

I
lifted my top over my head, “unwrapping” his surprise. He sat on the couch, positioning me in front of him. He shook his head slowly, a look of childish eagerness lighting his face. I was overheating. My sex clenched for the feel of his cock, needing him to fill me. Everything tightened in my core, the tension building...wanting, needing to feel him.

I’d covered my torso
in a corset, a thin veil of pale blue-colored silk with elegant beading. Cheryl told me after I tried it on that the color brought out the stunning blue of my eyes. I loved how it made me feel, sexy, pretty, desirable.

The material
was slightly transparent, light enough to see the outline of my nipples forcibly contained within the garment. A wisp of the same material barely covered the soft mound between my legs.

“You are stunning.” He murmured. “You are perfect in every way.
And babe…I got to say, dressed like that”—his eyes widened with devilish delight—“you’re killing me.”

I
smiled inwardly, his words a turn on. My hands deftly unbuttoned his shirt. He stood and removed his pants. I was hungry for the taste of him. He slid his hands under the material, rubbing his fingers up and down the length of my cleft. I leaned down greedy for the taste of him. I covered his mouth searching for that connection I had come to crave. I pushed him back and took all I could. And he gave all he had.

We
ate the meal I prepared, which if I must say so myself was delicious. Cole said everything was perfect and he was extremely impressed by my cooking skills. I brought out the dessert I made, Italian Panna-cotta, and served it with passion fruit puree. He loaded his plate with seconds, not leaving a crumb.  After we ate, I set down a tray with a bottle of whiskey, Kahlua, Baileys, foamed milk, cream and sugar on the table. Cole drank his espresso black. I added foamed milk and a dash of Kahlua to mine.

After we
cleaned up I brought a bottle of Krug Champagne I had chilling to the sofa. Cole opened it, pouring us each a flute. We sat crossed legged facing each other, our gazes locked, unable to look away. The wine went to straight to my head. The conversation was easy, but everything about being with him was easy. Even me.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 14

 

Dean Hansen and Carrie Verdi, the two detectives on duty, caught the murdered woman case in Central Park. They walked to the crime scene solemn, silent. Large, yellow-waxed canvas screens blocked any onlookers.

“Look at these fuckin’ cunt-lappers.
They have nothing better to do than try to get a look-see at a fuckin’ dead woman.” Dean said with disgust in his voice. “Goddamn these people.”

“They
should be happy they get to go home to their families. This girl isn’t going anywhere except the morgue,” Carrie interjected. “They should go home and look at what they have, and be happy they have whatever the fuck they have.”

“Your unique
perception of a happy home makes me all warm inside.”

“Fu
ck you, Dean.” Carrie walked straight to the tent shielding the body. She took out her phone and turned on the recorder.

“Let’s get this finished up.
I’m hungry.”

“When are you not?”
She smiled back, “I see the obvious. She was cut from left to right…right-handed. She has no defensive wounds, didn’t see this coming for sure.” Carrie lifted the dead woman’s hands and let them drop unceremoniously.

“Yeah
…that narrows the list down, a right handed murderer.” Dean smirked. “Guess we can go home now, you solved the case.”

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