Sympathy For The Devil Page 11

  At the very least, she could look into it and see. Even if Deputy Chief Perry didn’t want to help Archer, surely there were records she could obtain herself to see who had been bothering him.

  Hopefully in the meantime he doesn’t go looking for a private investigator and find me. That would be awkward.

  She watched him dispose of the broken phone, sweep up the mess, and then kill the lights in the kitchen. When he moved through the house, she rushed in the same direction to figure out where he’d gone. The lower lights were all shut off, however, and she glimpsed him moving up the dimly lit stairs.

  Shit. Kinda hard to spy on the guy without a ladder.

  Tash took several quick steps back, trying to talk herself into going back to the car and failing utterly. She scanned the windows until she saw the light turn on in one of them, just above the kitchen. At her back waited tress, old maples with thick canopies of leaves that would be easy to hide in.

  Don’t do it. Go back to the car and go home. He’s not going anywhere. He’s—

  But there was no use arguing with herself; she was already taking a running leap to grasp a low-hanging branch.

  ****

  Devin tramped through the house, still in a rage over the phone call. Not the threat, though that pissed him off, but the brief conversation with Perry. “We’ll send someone down to look” when he reported the graffiti. “We’ll take a look with the phone company” when he reported the threatening call from a blocked number. But help had never materialized. “Maybe you shouldn’t have come back here,” was Perry’s final smug suggestion.

  Maybe not. Or maybe he should just stop expecting the goddamn police to do their jobs.

  The house was coming along, at least. He paused for a moment in the hall next to the open master bedroom door. The room was dark. Still intact. It was the one he’d had the most trouble with, why the rest of the place was nearly done being renovated while this remained untouched.

  Sure, it had been rifled through. Chelsea’s family had been through some of her things—he’d allowed them, briefly, just after the funeral to take what they wanted. He gave them twenty minutes, though most hadn’t taken him up on it, preferring to avoid him entirely. Some knickknacks and jewelry were gone, along with a handful of books from her library, but all of her clothing remained. Some moth eaten, now. The room had a thick, dusty scent to it. He hadn’t been in it completely since before he left town—he’d spent an entire night then just sitting there, staring. Now he couldn’t cross the threshold, could only stop and peer inside without crossing over.

  Devin shook his head, closed the door to the room, and kept walking. The heat upstairs was even heavier than the first floor, and his T-shirt clung uncomfortably. A shower and sleep, then yet another day of work.

  He flipped on the bathroom light, glanced around at the tiny tile room. A long, narrow window took up the one wall, and that he opened to let in what little wind there might be. The bathroom boasted an old claw-foot bathtub, original to when the farmhouse was built, he believed. And Devin hated the thing, much preferred a proper shower. He studied the broken track the curtain hung on, gave the clear plastic a slight tug, but it only went halfway. At least the room itself was almost entirely white tile, easy to clean and not likely to be water damaged.

  Devin twisted on the taps and the pipes rattled in answer, then went about stripping off his clothes. The bungalow he’d been renting had a washer and dryer; this old house didn’t, at least not a working pair. That meant heading back into Stirling Falls to a laundromat in a few days, which he was not looking forward to.

  The one upside he could think of was the seemingly high likelihood of running into Natasha.

  Even as he dashed the thoughts away, they remained. Pulling at him, dragging him back. Her frenetic-like energy, quick smile and sharp eyes, the fearless edge to her even he had difficultly quelling. In another life, one where he wasn’t a monster and she wasn’t just after a story, things would be different.

  He blinked hard, stared at the running water, and attempted to gather his thoughts away from daydreaming. A pull on the lever by the tap and the shower came on, blasting hot water and steam down against the porcelain tub. He stepped under the stream, let it hammer against the sore muscles of his shoulders. He swiftly lathered up his hair with shampoo, let it wash away, and then ran a bar of mint-smelling soap over his body. The lather washed away swiftly as well.

  His eyes closed and he let out a content sigh at the feel of hard needles of water striking his skin. Even as he tried to let his mind go blank, she returned to the forefront. He remembered, still, the nearness of her several nights ago at Eight’s, the feel of her as she yielded to him, let him pull her onto the impromptu dance floor.

  In that moment, before they’d been interrupted—before he walked her to her car and saw the articles strewn over the front seat—he’d been certain he’d see her again under different circumstances. Maybe not that night, maybe not that week, but he sensed something in her, something that filled his mind with images he couldn’t shake, not even now. How she’d look stretched out on his bed, a silk blindfold over her eyes, leather cuffs pinning her arms above her head. How that blush he liked would work its way up and down her naked body, darkening her skin further. How she’d writhe and cry out, giving up her body and soul to his touch, his command.

  His cock was rock solid at the thought, aching. An itch he could find no relief for. Even going to The Box for a drink, seeing willing women there who would no doubt be up for all sorts of things he had in mind, didn’t quell it. Just a body to fuck for the night wasn’t good enough, was something he was well past now.

  But without another option, he gave in and grasped the base of his dick, running his hand up the long, thick shaft. He gave in and imagined her. Natasha. A women whose last name he didn’t even know, didn’t ask for.

  Natasha. On her knees in the bathtub, eyes wide, lips parted hungrily, ready to take him in her mouth at last.

  Natasha. On the counter, her ass resting on the very edge and her knees slung over her arms. She’d call him ‘sir’ and beg him to let her come, though he’d hold off on giving her permission until they were both ready to explode.

  Natasha. Against the wall, her wrists pinned in his hands, his lips next to her ear where he whispered everything he wanted to do to her.

  His own hand moved faster against his shaft and there was no pretending it was hers, not when he could guess how hers would feel—soft without the calloused roughness of his own, fingers smaller and struggling to contain him. Still he groaned at the vivid image the fantasy offered, his fingers working. Peeling off her top, dragging down her bra, drawing the firm, dark berry of her nipple into his mouth, against his teeth.

  If things had been different, if he’d driven her home that night, had her against his truck like that, she wouldn’t have looked up at him with terror. She’d yield, open to him. Let him slide his hand down the front of her jeans, feel the wet heat promising she wanted him as much as he wanted her. She’d let him touch her, taste her, tie her, spank her, own her in bed in a way that allowed her give up her pleasure and control to him.

  His back struck the tiled wall, right hand still running up and down his cock in a blur, left reaching down to roll his sac between his fingers. The shower stream beat down, white noise that made it easier for him to pretend to hear her voice. And when he imagined her head thrown back in ecstasy, her crying out his name, he came hard with a groan. Warm wetness splattered against his muscular stomach, immediately doused with water from the shower.

  He slumped heavily against the tiled wall, panting. Water rolled down his forehead, past his shut eyes. His body still shook with the aftershocks of a much-needed orgasm.

  But it wasn’t enough. Was a poor substitute for what he wanted.

  He blinked, brought himself back to the present, and finished rinsing everything from his body before shutting the shower off. A fresh towel waited, which he grasped and swiftly dragged
over his body, tying it off around his waist at the end. He grabbed another for his head, stepped out of the tub, and flicked the bathroom light off as he started for the dark hall beyond.

  Movement caught his attention. He froze, glanced over his shoulder. Water dripped from his hair into his eyes, but he merely blinked against it and otherwise didn’t move.

  There was nothing out the window he could see—too dark. The vague shape of a maple tree...

  Leaves rattled. Just slightly. Barely enough to catch his attention. But it wasn’t the whole tree, couldn’t have been the wind. Just a localized spot. Maybe a squirrel. A very, very big squirrel.

  Maybe a person.

  There was precisely one he could think of who purportedly hung out in trees watching people.

  A weird twist of emotion ran through him. Embarrassment at being watched. Ashamed that he’d been thinking of her. And still a tinge of fresh arousal, knowing she’d seen him.

  But aside from stalking out there in a towel to yell at what was possibly a squirrel, he had no other option but to follow his original plan and head to bed. So he left the light off, ran the towel through his hair, and headed for the futon in the guest room.

  ****

  Tash swallowed dryly, still staring at the bathroom window.

  Her whole body tingled, shivers all dancing toward the apex of her thighs. She shifted uncomfortably for what felt like the millionth time, squeezing her thighs together though it gave her no relief. She drew the line at touching herself while she was hanging twelve feet off the ground in a tree but it took considerable effort on her part.

  She didn’t see any more lights turn on after he’d left the bathroom. Her heart wouldn’t stop racing, body wouldn’t stop heating up at the thought. She shouldn’t have invaded his privacy like that, watched an intimate moment, but she couldn’t look away either. His hand running up and down his long, thick cock, the way his muscles bunched and corded with each movement. No straight woman in her right mind could look away.

  Her hands shook as she gathered her bearings and eased herself out of the tree. Off of one branch to stand on another, down from there to the ground. Her legs felt rubbery as she walked slowly back toward her car, body still humming with desire. Her steps picked up the pace the farther she got from the house until she was running through the field, tall grass swishing at her waist. She pulled out her cell, turned it toward the ground so she could see where she was going. The car faintly gleamed ahead, and she found her way to it easily, swiftly slipping inside and tossing the binoculars on the passenger seat. They keys hung in the ignition where she’d left the, but for a moment she sat there in dark silence.

  Her heart hadn’t calmed at all. Oh, this was wrong. So, so wrong. She felt a fool, mortified with herself, for letting her hormones get away from her, but in the darkness of the car, alone, his body wouldn’t leave her mind. All hard edges, skin with a deep, healthy tan. She longed to trace her fingers over his pecs, down his stomach, to clasp his velvet shaft and lean back, urging him into her.

  Absently her hands reached up, grasped her own breasts, imagined it was him. Her nipples hardened into points, rubbing against her bra. She bit her lip against a moan, flushed with shame but she couldn’t help it. Heat gathered, pooled between her legs, her pussy throbbing. She’d fallen into bed exhausted the night before after following Archer home from the club, hadn’t thought to relieve any rising sexual tension, but now it was at an all-time high.

  She could be quick. Brief. The way she felt, it wouldn’t take long.

  Tash delved one hand down, beneath the waistband of her yoga pants, past her underwear. Closing her eyes, tipping her head back, letting her mind take over, it wasn’t hard to imagine someone else there. If he’d seen her, come outside while she was climbing down from the tree... He’d thrust her against the side of the house, take control. The towel would slip from him, he’d tear the clothes from her and she’d claw his arms, begging him to fuck her.

  Her finger drew circles around her clit, brushing the bundle of nerves there again and again. It had been so damn long, she could scarcely remember another’s hands running up and down her body. And his would be strong, forceful.

  She bit her lip harder, pinching her nipple still, running her fingers up and down her slit, pausing to rub her clit. The fantasies fell away as a crescendo of pleasure came over her, and she knew nothing but bliss. Her body seized, head thrown back, and she stopped biting her lip to cry out at last.

  As she slumped in the seat, her mind came back to her. Heat rushed up her cheeks, hands rearranging her clothes again. Oh God, this was unacceptable. Completely. And if she didn’t stop it right now, she’d give Adam back his money and quit. Tash might break laws on occasion, but some things just weren’t ethical.

  She drew the back of her hand over her forehead, brushed away sweat-damp curls, and breathed deeply to calm her heart.

  Tomorrow she was supposed to hang out with Dani. Maybe...maybe she could talk to her. Somehow. In a way that didn’t involve Adam, see if she could get some advice. Maybe be set up on a date with a guy who wasn’t an alleged serial killer. Clearly this was all a symptom of focusing too much on work for too long.

  A bottle of water sat in the cup holder, which she took a long drink from. She pulled her cell phone from her pocket and checked for messages, didn’t find any. She set it on the dash, the sudden glow bouncing from the window and giving the car a little illumination.

  Something pale caught her attention, drawing her eyes down to passenger side floor where paper was crumpled.

  Frowning, she leaned forward to grasp it. She didn’t leave trash in Malone’s car, kept it impeccably clean. It could’ve rolled out from under the seat, maybe—

  Tash unfolded the paper gently, smoothing out the creasing, and grasped her phone to shine over the words written.

  BURN IN HELL WITH HIM YOU WHORE.

  Her stomach bottomed out, hands began to tremble. The paper drifted down, leaving her fingers, as she swiveled in her seat, checking the back. Empty, no one crouched behind her. She slammed her finger down on the locks, all car doors clicking immediately, but none of it did anything to ease her fear or shaking. Around the vehicle, grass swished softly, and she saw nothing beyond it. Anyone could be out there.

  And whoever it was had been in her car.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “I love that your new house has central air,” Tash said. She and Dani sat in the middle of the nursery floor, attempting to put together a mobile. The damn thing was crooked and she swore missing a few pieces, despite a call to the manufacturer claiming otherwise.

  “It was like my one and only condition.” Danyiah frowned down at the mobile arm she’d been working on and tossed it into the pile. “This is so stupid. It’s not like the damn kid is gonna notice. A hanger, some string, and some toys. That’ll do it.”

  Tash was starting to agree with her. She set down the piece she’d been working on and reached back, propping her hands on the hardwood and leaning to give her spine a stretch. The nursery was a sunny yellow with pale green and white, gender neutral as they didn’t know what they were having yet. Most of it was in place, as Adam had already put together the bigger things, but Dani insisted she wanted to “nest” and kept a few small items to put together on her own.

  “Do I get to know yet what you’re working on for Adam?” Dani asked.

  Tash sat straight and looked at her friend. She was glowing, her hands settled on her large baby bump. She’d never looked happier and the last thing Tash wanted to do was stress her out more.

  “No,” Tash said. “Not specifically but there are a few things you could maybe help me out with tangentially.” She’d decided against bringing up the I am attracted to your boyfriend’s sister’s widowed husband/killer as there didn’t seem a way to fit it into the conversation naturally.

  “Sure thing. Shoot.” Dani grasped the banana milkshake sitting off to the side, got comfortable leaning against the pillows she
’d propped by the wall, and waited.

  Here we go. “What do you know about sex clubs?”

  Dani froze, the straw pressed between her lips as she blinked, wide-eyed. “What??”

  Tash cringed. “Seriously. Did you know there’s one in town? Called The Box?”

  “No! Oh my God, that’s awesome!” When she caught Tash’s expression, she explained. “I mean, I don’t want to go there to have sex, but it’s kinda cool there’s a kinky subculture around here.”

  “There’s also a private BDSM club in Hastings County.”

  “Did you go during open hours?”

  “No, I found it accidentally. It’s run by a hippy.”

  “Weird.” Dani’s cell phone rang and a grin lit her face as she checked the number. She put it on speakerphone. “Hey, honey. Can I go to a sex club with Tash?”

  Adam paused, then sighed loudly on the other end of the line. “I’ll call back later.” And he hung up.

  “Okay, tell me more about the club. See anyone we know?”

  A few she recognized, a few she thought she did, but for the moment Tash decided not to go into a lot of detail. “It was surprisingly clean. Like a regular looking nightclub, except for a lot of partially dressed white people having sex everywhere.”

  “They’re a repressed bunch around here, it’s bound to come out somewhere.”

  “So last time I snuck in with liquor delivery.”

  “Because you’re badass.”

  “Yep. But if there’s a next time, that way might not be available to me. I saw one guy turned away at the door and the hippy dungeon-owner told me they have a membership fee.”

  “Oh, I interviewed a dominatrix from the city for my blog a few months ago. Let’s ask her.” Dani lifted her phone again, tapped through to her email, and typed in a message. “Okay, sent. She’s pretty open and she might know the places in the area—” Immediately the phone rang and Dani answered, her eyes meeting Tash’s. “Hello, Dame Velvet. Yes, I’d love if you could help us out.”