Playing with Fire (3 page)

“What do think, Squirt?” His words slid out like hot molasses. His mouth was inches from hers. “Want to take a walk on the wild side?”

“Don’t tease me, Griffin.” The nickname made her feel small and unattractive.

“Oh, sugar, I’m for sure not teasing. Maybe I should call you Dewdrop.”

She blinked. “Dewdrop?”

“Mmhmm. Fresh as the early morning dew on a blade of grass. I’d love to pluck you and lick you all up.”

He bent his head, and she knew he was going to kiss her. Common sense told her to push him away, but she couldn’t make herself move.

He waited the space of a heartbeat for her to move away or object then his mouth came down on hers, hard, his tongue forcing her to open for him. She felt it sweeping into the dark recesses of her mouth, tasting her like a sweet dessert, flicking at nerves she didn’t even know she had. Tentative, she let her tongue meet his, twist with his, duel with his—and she was lost.

The present….

The plane landed in midafternoon. Cassie hadn’t called ahead for a rental car, so, by the time she retrieved her luggage and arranged for transportation, she hit the interstate at the beginning of rush hour. The Texas heat had enfolded her as soon as she walked outside, plastering her clothes to her body. Once inside the rental car, she turned the air conditioner on full blast, praying for icy relief.

Her neck ached with tension, her head throbbed, and the clogged highway didn’t add to her mood. Stoneham was still a good hour’s drive away once she hit the outskirts of San Antonio, and she didn’t relish spending all this time in gridlock. She fiddled with the radio, trying to find a station with soothing music while traffic inched along.

At last,
at last
, she moved beyond the city limits. Traffic thinned, and she increased her speed. As she drove along I-10, she noticed changes since the last time she’d made this trip. Signs of progress were everywhere. New housing developments, strip centers, office buildings.

But not in Stoneham, I’m sure. Nothing ever changes there.

She was hot, tired, and hungry by the time she pulled into the small town. It was just after six o’clock, and daylight was fading. The exit road from the interstate had dumped her off at the edge of downtown, and she skirted it, following familiar side streets.

As she drove, she scanned for any sign of Griffin, though she didn’t expect to see him just because he was in her thoughts. But he was out there, somewhere, and, sooner or later, they’d run into each other. Her stomach knotted at the thought. What could they even say to each other after all this time?

At last, she pulled up in front of the house she’d lived in most of her life. The giant oak trees still guarded the front yard and shaded the porch, but they couldn’t hide the sad, neglected look the house now wore. The lawn and bushes needed tending. The wooden trim around the limestone had faded and, in some spots, peeled. Shades pulled down at every window added to the look of despair.

Her stomach tightened as she took out her key, long unused, and opened the front door. A dank, musty odor hit her at once. Her mother may have been existing here, but she hadn’t been living.

She snapped up the old-fashioned window shades, hoping a little light in the room would improve things, but it just made them more dismal. A thin film of dust covered everything, accenting the worn look of the furniture that had served them well for so many years. She walked through the rooms, mentally taking stock. It was obvious that, after her father’s death, her mother had spent her life in as few rooms as possible.

Guilt reached out to touch Cassie, but she chased it away. It was not her fault. None of it. For twenty years, she had labored for her parents’ love and approval. She was the forgotten child hidden in the shadow of Diane’s brighter light. They probably hadn’t even missed her when she left, and now, she was the one remaining.

Sighing, she trudged up the stairs, lugging her suitcase. The bedrooms looked like relics from an old movie. The heavy furniture in the room her parents had shared seemed so austere, the coldness broken by the rumpled look of the bed, which no one had thought to straighten after they’d taken her mother away.
Well, and who would do that, missy?

Nothing in Diane’s room had changed. Her parents had turned it into some kind of shrine, with pictures of her sister on every available surface. A pink sundress still lay tossed across the bed, pink sandals tumbled onto each other on the floor as if the wearer had just slipped them off. If she strained her ears, Cassie could almost hear Diane’s laughter, and a chill washed over her.

For six years, she had pushed the circumstances of Diane’s death away. Standing in this house again, everything popped back into her brain, bringing familiar memories and emotions. Diane might have been wild, but what could there have been about her to drive someone to commit murder? An unwelcome need to find answers wormed its way into her system.

With determination, she backed out of the room and went to her own, another site of little change, but not for the same reason. Looking around, she could have been the young Cassie again, dressing for high school classes or home from college between semesters. The same yellow-and-white wallpaper, the white ruffled bedspread with the daffodil sprays across the surface, the little vanity with the yellow skirt where she’d applied her makeup. Except, everything was old and faded. No nostalgia involved, just a sad memory.

Opening her suitcase, she hung up the few things she’d brought that needed wrinkles to fall out then pulled on a pair of shorts and a T-shirt. Thank goodness someone’d had the sense to leave the air conditioning on, albeit at a high temperature, and she bumped the indicator down as she passed the thermostat in the hall.

The kitchen yielded little in the way of food. No surprise there. She had no idea how or when her mother ate. The freezer held a half gallon of vanilla ice cream that she decided would do as her dinner.

Standing at the counter, spooning the creamy confection from the container, she called Claire to let her know she was okay. Afterward, she dialed Harley Graham’s home number.

“I’m so glad you got here safe and sound, Cassie.” That warm voice had soothed her since she was a toddler. “I was beginning to worry about you. Have you eaten? Would you like to come by the house for a bite? Your mother ate such strange meals of late, I can’t imagine you’ll find much there.”

No kidding.
“Thanks, Harley, but I’m okay. I can get stuff tomorrow. I guess I just wanted to let you know I’m here and ask what happens next.”

“The body’s at Stoneham Mortuary. Still the only one in town. They’re just waiting to hear from you about final arrangements.”

“Will there need to be a big funeral?” She frowned, thinking of the unpleasant possibility, of half the town showing up from morbid curiosity.

“I think a small service at the mortuary would be appropriate,” he assured her.

Cassie realized there was a great deal left unsaid in that simple sentence. “I’ll talk to them tomorrow,” she told him.

“And Neil McLeod said to catch him in the morning. You know, he still handled all the legal work for your folks. He’ll make time for you to go over your mother’s papers.”

“I’d like to wrap this up by Monday. Do you think that’s possible? I need to get back to work, and there isn’t much to hold me here anymore.”

“I know this is hard for you, Cassie. Stoneham hasn’t been what you’d call kind to your family.” He sighed. “We’ll make this as easy on you as possible, but I think a lot depends on what you want to do. Talk to Neil first. Then, if you want to chew anything over, give me a call.”

“I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this, Harley. You’re a good friend as well as our doctor.”

“You thinking of calling any of your old friends while you’re here?” Like everyone else, he knew her leave-taking had been anything but pleasant, and he had no idea who she’d kept in touch with. “Tonight’s Thursday. In another hour, they’ll all be at Pete’s Pizza.”

“I think I’ll pass. Thanks just the same.” She was already battling too many old memories she felt were better left tucked away.

“Well, you know where to find them. Or me. Nothing ever changes in Stoneham, you know.”

I know. Nothing except my life.

Six years before….

They were in Griffin’s bedroom, a room that reflected his masculinity in the stark oak furniture and the walls bare of adornment. The only relief was a framed photo of his mother on his dresser. The pale golden light from the street lamps poured in through the window, casting shadows on their bodies.

Cassie had no recollection of how they got there. One minute, he was kissing her and wiping out all her brain cells. The next, they were upstairs next to his bed, his eyes burning into hers, his hands hot on her face.

He undressed her with exquisite care, peeling away her blouse, sliding her skirt down to her ankles then tossing it to the side. With a deft movement he unclasped her bra and disposed of it with an ease born of long practice. When her breasts sprang free, he cupped them in his palms, his thumbs rasping against the nipples. He bent and licked the hardened points—just a brief swipe of his tongue—and electricity jolted through her.

She barely felt him remove her panties, her last line of defense. Shivers chased themselves along her spine as his hands roamed her body, and he murmured in her ear, his words seductive and reassuring. He touched her everywhere—her shoulders, her back, her hips. One finger teased at her navel before his hand descended to the nest of curls between her thighs. With exquisite gentleness, he combed his fingers through them, sliding down to the lips guarding her virgin sheath.

Then she lay on his bed, in his arms, and he whispered naughty things, erotic words that made her skin burn. His mouth locked to hers, his tongue probing and tasting. Tentative at first, she met his challenge, and as their tongues tangled together, fire shot through her. Fear and desire mingled in a potent combination, fueled by the unexpected intensity of her response. This was unsafe, uncharted waters for her, and she had no idea how to act. She only knew whatever Griffin was doing, she never wanted him to stop.

Her body trembled as his gaze swept over her, his eyes taking in every detail of her naked quivering body. The streetlight shining through the window highlighted the planes and shadows of his face, giving it an even stronger, more sensuous look. The earthy scent of whatever aftershave he used invaded her nostrils.

“Griffin,” she breathed.

“Griff,” he corrected. “Call me Griff. Say it, Cassie.”

“Griff.” The name came out on a sigh.

He stroked his hand over her body, exploring in earnest, his touch igniting little nerve endings. He cupped one breast with his warm palm and abraded one nipple with slow strokes of his thumb. Every touch set off another explosion of electricity inside her. The heat of his mouth as he sucked one tip scorched her then he bit down gently, and she was sure she’d explode from the cascade of sensations.

He took a long time teasing and tantalizing, paying careful attention to each breast in turn, kissing and licking the skin, suckling at the nipple swelling in response to his touch. Her nerves fired, and she couldn’t seem to draw enough air into her lungs.

“Griffin— Griff, I….” She worked to clear the fog from her brain.

“Sssh, sugar. Don’t talk,” he murmured. “Such sweet little breasts, just waiting for the right mouth to suckle them.”

His hand drifted lower, lower, trailing across her navel down to her abdomen, the tips of his fingers just touching the beckoning triangle of curls. When he ran his fingers through them with a possessive caress, Cassie reached out a hand to touch him as well and encountered hot, naked skin. When had he shed his clothes? Her hand jerked back, but Griffin captured it with one of his and placed it on his chest, trapping it between them.

“Relax, Cassie,” he crooned. “Let me make you feel good. Let me love you.”

He cupped her feminine mound and touched the inside of her thighs. Nervous, Cassie clamped her legs tight together.

“Open for me,” he whispered. “Come on, sugar. It will all be worth it.”

She was powerless to do anything but obey. She felt hot all over, inside and out. A slow throbbing at the entrance to her vagina grew stronger, like a primitive drum beat. She resisted only a little as he nudged her thighs apart. Then she felt that same feathery caress as he toyed with the curls covering her mound, just skimming the tips of his fingers over them. No one had ever touched her there before, but letting Griff do it seemed the most natural thing in the world.

“Okay, sugar?” he whispered, the sound of his words hypnotizing her. “Don’t be scared, all right?”

Her mouth wouldn’t work, so she just nodded.

“Good. You’re gonna love this even more, I promise.”

One finger parted the folds at her entrance and slid between them. She jerked, but the arm cradling her held her in place.

“God,” he breathed. “You are so damn wet. And hot.”

He eased one finger inside her, its passage moistened by her own lubrication. He paused, watching her with an intent look then inserted a second finger. After a moment, he moved his thumb to the nub of her sex, rubbing the tip of her clitoris back and forth.

Sparks shot through her body. “Oh, God, Griff. Oh my God.”

Sensations swept over her, rousing her. She was frightened, terrified of the unfamiliar feelings he’d awakened in her. She should pull back, but her body wouldn’t let her. She wanted this. Wanted him. Without any further thought, she parted her legs for him even more.

“That’s it, Cassie,” he breathed. “Open wide for me.”

He kept up the soft murmurs, coaxing her, soothing her. With his thumb and forefinger, he gave her clit a gentle pinch, tugged on it. She almost exploded out of his arms, arching off the bed. Then, shocked, she realized he had stopped all caresses, all those delicious strokes of his talented, clever fingers. She forced her eyes open.