Turn To Me (15 page)

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Authors: Tiffany A. Snow

BOOK: Turn To Me
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I moaned as I leaned forward and took him in my mouth.  I distantly heard Blane’s breath hiss between his teeth, but I was too distracted to pay much attention.  I breathed deeply through my nose, the scent and taste of him causing my hormones to spike and sending a warm wetness between my thighs.

I’d gotten much better at this and had found, to my surprise, I enjoyed it a lot.  Though it seemed submissive, it wasn’t.  I liked the sense of power it gave me, however briefly and illusory, over Blane.

His hands buried in my hair as I slid up and down his length, relaxing my throat to take as much of him as possible.  It was always gratifying if I could make him forget himself enough to thrust into my mouth.  He was afraid he’d hurt me by doing that and held tightly to his control so he wouldn’t.  I noticed with satisfaction that his hips jerked upward when I did a certain thing with my tongue, so I did it again.

Blane ground out a curse and lifted me off him.  I whimpered in disappointment before his mouth claimed mine, our tongues sliding against each other in an attempt to become as close as possible.

He quickly rearranged his clothes then lifted me against him, his hands supporting me as I wrapped my legs around his waist.  He took me into his office, setting me on my feet before closing and locking the door.  I grabbed the hem of my sweater, yanking it over my head and letting it fall to the floor.  Then Blane was back, our mouths colliding again.  His hands found the zipper of my skirt behind me and I felt the whisper of the fabric as it slid down my legs to puddle on the floor.  I toed off my shoes and now stood dressed only in a white lace bra and matching panties.  They were the expensive kind that I never would have bought for myself, but which Blane had purchased when he’d paid for replacing my entire wardrobe.

“Virgin white today, Kat?” 

The roughness of his voice sent a shiver through me, but I couldn’t answer or take my eyes off his.  I wanted him so badly, I didn’t care that we were about to have sex in his office, just like the tramp Kandi and Diane thought I was.

With a swipe of his arm, just like in the movies, he cleared a place on his desk and lifted me onto it.  He tugged the scrap of satin and lace down and off my legs and I leaned back to brace myself on the palms of my hands.  I saw him shove the fabric into his pocket, but had no time to wonder about it.  Blane bent my knees so my feet were planted on the desk as well, only too far apart for any modesty.

His eyes on me made my cheeks burn, but before I could get uncomfortable, his mouth was on me, his tongue inside me, and my eyes slammed shut.

Under his skilled lips and tongue, my body was soon convulsing, cries falling from my lips.  In the corner of my mind that still retained a semblance of dignity, I noticed I sounded like a bad porn movie.  I couldn’t help it, I started to giggle.

“What’s so funny?” Blane asked, his mouth pressing against the skin of my abdomen as he moved upward.  His fingers found the clasp on my bra and I arched my back so he could remove it.

“Me,” I said, still laughing.  “I make ridiculous noises.”

“You sound fucking amazing,” he growled, abruptly cutting off my giggles as he thrust inside me. 

I moaned, raising my hips to meet his.  I couldn’t touch him without losing my position, so my hands remained on the desk behind me. 

Blane’s mouth found my breast and his hands dug into my hips as he lifted me to a better angle, which I strongly agreed with judging by the moans and whimpers I couldn’t suppress.

I didn’t care how I sounded, I just wanted it harder and faster and right there, and told him so.  I teetered on the edge for a blissful moment, then felt Blane’s teeth close over my nipple.  My scream was muffled by his hand over my mouth and I held on as his body pounded into mine, my thighs trembling with the aftershocks.  He stiffened against me, his teeth marking me again as he made his own happy noises, which I must say, sounded much better than mine.

We lay there for a moment, catching our breath, before I started to notice how hard the desk was and how chilly the air had become.  I shivered and Blane pulled back, rearranging his clothes before lifting me down to stand on trembling legs.

I found my bra and sweater and put them on while Blane found a tissue.  He wiped gently at the wetness between my thighs while he kissed me, long and deep.  I noticed with satisfaction that the aroma of sex hung in the room, obliterating any last traces of Kandi’s perfume from this morning.

He released me with a touch to my cheek, our eyes meeting in a moment of perfectly attuned intimacy.  I imagined I could see the same emotion in his eyes which was currently bubbling inside my chest, though neither of us said anything.  I was afraid to put a name to it, though I knew what I felt.

I broke eye contact and looked around for my skirt.  I tugged it on over my bare skin, deciding against the idea of saying anything about what Blane had tucked into the pocket of his slacks.  He unlocked the door while I dressed and tossed the tissue into the trash.  I adjusted my clothes and pushed my feet back into my black flats, combing my fingers through my hair.

“No!”

The shout from Blane startled me and I jumped.  My head jerked up in time to see him hurtling towards me.  I stood in shock as he tackled me, his shoulder hitting my chest and knocking the air from my lungs.  I hit the floor, him on top of me, and my head cracked painfully against a bookcase.  I heard the shattering of glass, a loud bang, then everything went dark.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

I woke slowly, my head pounding.  I could hear a voice, Blane’s voice, talking quietly.  I listened as I took stock of my body.  Everything ached and it took me a moment to remember why.  Blane crashing into me and me crashing into the floor.

“I need you,” I heard Blane say quietly.  Then there was silence.  “You know I wouldn’t ask otherwise.”  I focused more intently on listening as his voice lowered even further.  “I don’t ask much from you, you know that.”

The sound of sirens made my eyes jerk open and I saw Blane sliding his cell phone back into his pocket.  I painfully raised myself up to see I was laying on the couch outside Blane’s office that was tucked into a windowless corner.  I groaned, clutching my head, and Blane was by my side in an instant.

“I’m so sorry, Kat,” he said, sinking into a crouch in front of me.  “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“What happened?” I asked.  Speaking made me wish I’d kept my mouth shut as another wave of pain crashed through my head.

“You were targeted,” Blane said.  I looked at him blankly.  “Sighted, with a laser from the window,” he explained, “right here.”  His finger pressed gently to my chest, directly over my heart.  “You were just lucky I saw it in time.  A few seconds later...”  The words trailed off as he looked at me.  My hands went cold as I realized what he was saying.

“Someone watched us have sex?” I asked in disbelief, my voice a high screech that I immediately regretted as my head throbbed.  I felt violated and humiliated.  What sick pervert would do that?

“I don’t think you’re focusing on the important part,” Blane said, his voice flat.  “Someone tried to kill you.”

His face was hard and devoid of expression, which I knew meant he was carefully controlling his anger.  I swallowed.

“Thanks for saving me,” I said reflexively.  I thought I might be in shock, my mind not yet fully processing what had happened.  At the moment, I was more pissed off that someone had been watching Blane and me together than the fact that they’d taken a shot at me.

“It’s because of me that you needed saving in the first place,” Blane bit out angrily.

I couldn’t answer because just then the stairwell doors crashed open to reveal a cadre of police, firemen and EMTs.  Blane rose quickly to his feet, speaking with the police and pointing me out to the EMTs.

I had to suffer through their exam, despite my protests that I was fine.  Blane hovered nearby once he was through talking with the cops.  They were in his office now, examining the floor for bullets.

“You have a mild concussion,” one of the EMT guys said.  “You should be admitted for observation overnight.”

“No way,” I said, shaking my head.  “I’ll be fine.”  I despised hospitals.  I’d watched both my parents die in one.  The antiseptic smell of a hospital, the constant noise, the endless hallways filled with doorways through which lay people who may or may not recover from whatever ailed them – all of it terrified me.  I refused to go to a hospital.

“If he says you need to go, you should probably go,” Blane interjected, seating himself next to me on the couch and taking my hand in his. 

“I’m fine,” I said adamantly.  “I will not go to a hospital.”

The EMT’s gaze met Blane’s, and with a shrug of his shoulders, he packed up his equipment.  When he had walked away, Blane spoke.

“Why won’t you go to the hospital?” he asked quietly.  “I’ll take care of the cost, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“I just...” I faltered for a moment.  “I just hate hospitals, okay?  They’re horrible.  People go in and...they don’t come out.”

He didn’t say anything and I looked away uncomfortably.  He rose from the couch when a cop called his name.  I got to my feet and followed, wanting to hear what they had to say.

“We found these bullets in your office,” the cop said, handing a plastic baggie to Blane.  “Looks like a .308 Win.  Based on the trajectory, I'd say the shooter was on the roof of the building next door.”

Blane inspected the bullets closely.  “Those aren’t Winchesters,” he said.  “They’re 7.62 NATOs.”

“What’s significant about that?” I asked.

Blane looked at me.  “This type of bullet is typically used in MK-11s.”

I still looked blankly at him. 

“MK-11s are sniper rifles and only issued to the military.”

My eyes widened as I finally caught on.  “So it was someone in the military shooting at me?”

Blane nodded, his face a blank slate.  “Maybe even the Navy.”  He turned to the officer.  “Did you find anything over there?” he asked, handing the baggie back to him.

“Not a thing,” the cop said.  “Whoever it was, he was careful to not leave evidence behind.”

A few minutes later, everyone had cleared out except Blane and me.  I dug in my purse until I found a bottle of painkillers, then swallowed three.

“What happened to your arm?” Blane asked out of the blue.

“What?”

“Earlier,” he clarified, “I noticed your arm had bruises.”  He motioned to my upper arm where James had grabbed me yesterday.  “What happened?”

This was so not the time for this, but I didn’t see any way I could avoid telling him. 

“I had a run in with James at the courthouse yesterday,” I confessed.  “He was...agitated.  Told me you were going down, that this case was going to make his career.”

Blane had gone very still the moment I said James’ name.  I could feel the anger practically vibrating through him.

“Did he hit you again?”  Blane’s voice was flat and cold.

“No.  No, he didn’t,” I said quickly.  “He just grabbed me, shook me a little.”  A dangerous light came into Blane’s eyes and I hurried to him.  “You can’t do anything to James, Blane,” I said earnestly, tipping my head back so I could look him in the eye.  “That’s what he wants.  If he can get you removed from this case, he’ll win.  No one else stands a chance against him.”

Blane seemed unmoved by my argument. 

“Blane,” I pleaded.  “Promise me you won’t go after him.  Not until after this case is through.  It would only cause more trouble and Kyle needs you.”

Finally, to my relief, he reluctantly nodded.  “But I am going to find out if he’s behind this,” Blane amended.

“Fine,” I agreed, “just don’t put him in the hospital, okay?”  Blane’s lips twitched and I quickly added, “Or the morgue.”

Blane followed me home from the firm in his car.

“I thought we were going to stay away from each other?” I’d reminded him when he told me of his intentions.

“Fuck that,” he’d replied, scanning the parking lot as he walked me to my car.  “I’m not leaving you alone.”

That made me feel warm and fuzzy inside, though I disliked the need for his protectiveness.  I also realized I’d forgotten to warn him about Bacon Bits as we entered my apartment and the little dog flew at him, barking madly.

“How did you get out?” I asked the excited dog, hurrying to my bedroom door.  I’d been so sure I’d shut it securely this morning, but there it was, standing innocently open.

“Why do you have Alisha’s dog?” Blane asked, following me.

“She had to leave town for a few days,” I explained with a sigh, squatting down to pet Bits.  He quieted immediately.

Tigger suddenly appeared, rubbing against me, and I braced myself for the two animals to start fighting, but they seemed to have ironed out their differences.  To my surprise, Tigger gave Bits a little nudge, then jogged away.  Bits obediently trotted after him.  Huh.

“I’ll go get some dinner,” Blane said as I stood back up.  The room tilted for a moment and I grabbed the counter to stay on my feet.

“What’s wrong?” Blane asked urgently.  He lifted my chin so he could look at my eyes.  “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” I said, brushing aside his concern.  “Just stood up too fast, that’s all.”

“You need to lie down,” Blane said, hooking an arm around my waist and guiding me to the bed.

“I need to take the dog outside,” I protested.

“I’ll do it.  Just rest, okay?”

I was suddenly too tired to argue.  My head still hurt and last night’s tossing and turning was catching up to me.  With Blane nearby, I felt the anxiety inside me ease.  I felt safe. 

I let Blane push me gently down onto the bed.  I kicked off my shoes and laid back while he pulled the quilt over me.

“I’ll be right back,” he said softly, pressing a kiss to my forehead. 

I smiled tiredly.  “You have to tell him ‘go toodles, Bits, go toodles for momma,’” I said, pitching my voice high in imitation, “or else he won’t go.”

Blane looked at me.  “I’m not doing that,” he said flatly.

“But then he’ll go on the bed,” I protested. 

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