Jumping at Shadows (11 page)

“That’s a long way of saying ‘don’t let those pictures get the best of you’,” T.J. clarified, taking a step closer. “You’re a good detective, and a smart one, and a
clever enough
one to get Victor Kroger even if he is bribing judges into looking the other way.” He planted a salty kiss on Eric’s lips. “Just don’t let those pictures distract you.”

Eric wanted to argue that he wasn’t letting them distract him, that he knew what he saw and he knew how dangerous ignoring any of this would be, but instead he ended up smiling as he licked the salt from his own lips and then T.J.’s, remembering clearly the salt he had licked from his lover’s skin while his cock had been buried in his ass.

“You’ve got a better chance of distracting me than those pictures do,” he said simply, and then he frowned as he studied his lover’s face. “You know, there were pictures of you in that stack too. Besides the fact that you’re sleeping with a detective, why aren’t you freaking out about them?”

T.J. let out a small laugh. “I am a little,” he admitted, “but what would you suggest I do about it? Call the cops and demand they catch whoever took them?” He leaned in for another kiss. “I think that’s covered. Now let’s go watch our movie.”

Eric sighed softly. He doubted T.J. would be so easy with all of this if he had seen the last year firsthand like Eric had. But Eric didn’t have the luxury of that separation, then or now. Arguing the point would be useless, however, and he wasn’t going to ruin their day by doing that. Instead he leaned over for his own handful of popcorn and made the decision to let it go—for now. It was just after one, and the Lexus had vanished hours ago, and he had the whole afternoon to lounge around with his lover. With or without clothes.

Still, he couldn’t help casting a glance at the solidly curtained window on their way back to the couch.

E
RIC
gasped, clenching his fingers in T.J.’s hair as his hips thrust up, his inner thighs bumping T.J.’s shoulders as his cock throbbed heavily in T.J.’s throat. T.J.’s nose was buried in the hair at his groin, with his throat working frantically as he swallowed each pulsing shot, his fingers gripping the sweat-slicked skin of Eric’s hips.

“
God!
” Eric breathed out again, though somewhat softer as the spurts became shorter, the waves of his orgasm peaking and receding. The sheets beneath his back were wrinkled and twisted, the pillow under his head a little askew, the blanket and comforter again on the floor. He fidgeted a little when T.J. slowly released his cock, then let his tongue lathe each of Eric’s balls in turn before trailing along the underside of his cock and licking the last bit of cum from the head. The gentle kiss to his stomach that followed nearly had Eric giggling.

T.J. continued to kiss his way up Eric’s body, pausing to lap at each nipple before moving on, and Eric could feel his lover’s still-hard cock brush its way higher along his body. When T.J.’s kisses finally reached his lips, Eric welcomed him eagerly, tasting himself on T.J.’s tongue and dropping his hand to T.J.’s erection. He knew exactly how T.J. liked to be handled, knew what to do with his fingers and thumb to drive his man crazy, and he soon had T.J. pumping into his hand as he kept his mouth engaged with demanding, tongue-infused kisses. T.J. came with a grunt, his cum splattering on their stomachs and chests.

Eric didn’t let go until long after the orgasm faded and the kisses had gentled to a tender brush of lips. T.J. had managed to keep his weight off Eric by balancing on his forearms, but the exhaustion that followed release threatened to collapse him at any moment. Eric finally eased his hold as T.J. shifted to lie beside him, though not even his overheated body kept Eric from curling into him. T.J. caught his wrist as he finished moving, bringing it to his lips to lick the streaks of cum from his fingers.

The sleet had finally tapered off as daylight faded into night, and the moon over T.J.’s shoulder cast a liquid blue light over the bed and their cooling bodies. They probably should have pulled the shade down on the window, but it was late, and the window overlooked the backyard, complete with its privacy fence and the short field to the tree line behind the house. The fence wasn’t all that high, and there was another backyard on the other side of the clearly visible tree line, but there was enough distance and blockage from the trees to prevent anyone but the most determined peeping tom from seeing them. Because of that Eric had never been overly concerned with the shade, preferring the erotic play of moonlight on T.J.’s naked body to the certainty of privacy. A glance over T.J.’s shoulder as his lover continued to lick his fingers and palm showed the bright and nearly full moon glowing in the almost starless sky, bathing the yard and field in soft, white light…

… and clearly illuminating the figure standing by the edge of the tree line, holding a video camera aimed at their bedroom.

“Fuck!” he cried out sharply, jerking away from T.J. and nearly crawling over him to gain his feet. The discarded blankets on the floor tangled around his ankles and sent him stumbling onto his knees, though the jar barely registered as he lunged toward the window. T.J. fought clumsily to sit up amid the sudden surge of motion.

“Eric! What the fuck?” T.J. managed hoarsely. The remnants of lust roughened his voice, and the abrupt change startled him enough that he reached urgently for Eric’s scrambling figure before his own balance was set.

“He’s there, T.J.! Outside, by the trees! Watching us!” He eluded T.J.’s hands as he crawled to the window and crouched low beside it, glaring through the edge of the glass to try to pick out the figure again. Only the movement of shadows gave any indication someone was there.

“Eric,” T.J. said heavily behind him, having at last swung both legs over the edge of the bed, “what the hell are you doing?”

“He’s out there—”

“Who?”

Eric whirled at the absurdity of the question, then jerked back to the window but got little more than a glance before a hand pressed into his shoulder and pulled him back. He turned with the intention of arguing the point of what he’d seen but instead found himself all but dumped on the floor as T.J. used the momentum to get him farther away from the window. T.J.’s face was visible in the moonlight, calm, more than a little confused, and just a little bit exasperated, but it wasn’t until T.J.’s lips tightened that Eric realized that he was going to move. Panic surged through him at the thought of T.J. visible through the window, his body a clear and perfect target.

Eric lunged toward him to stop him. “T.J.! He’s out there!”

“Eric, calm down.” T.J.’s hands had closed over his wrists, and he stoically pulled him up and back until Eric was seated on the bed.

“T.J.! Don’t—”

“Shhh. I’m just going to look, all right?”

Every nerve in Eric’s body screamed when T.J. released him, every ounce of his being wanting to pull T.J. back when he stepped to the window. But he stared as if paralyzed as T.J. bent to look out, until fear won out suddenly, and he shot off the bed to drag his lover back.

“There’s no one there.”

Eric froze to utter stillness, his hands reaching for T.J. but not yet touching. His heart hammered in his chest as T.J. straightened and turned. Then in a burst of motion, he struggled around him to lean heavily against the sill. Disbelief washed over him as his head turned sharply left to right and back, looking for any sign of movement, any shadow darker than the rest, anything out of place. The yard, the field, the trees—they were all clearly visible, and they were all clearly empty. T.J. was a warm presence when he slid up behind him.

“There’s no one there, baby. See?”

“Fuck!” he spat out against the glass, and he shrugged off his lover’s touch when T.J. tried to pull him from the window again, then turned to his lover with desperate urgency on his face. “He was there, T.J. I saw him.
I saw him!
” He sounded panicked even to his own ears, and he had little doubt that T.J. had heard it too. A muttered curse escaped as he turned back to glare out the window.

“I’m not arguing with you, baby,” T.J. said slowly, and after a moment he slid a hand gently down Eric’s back. “Maybe there was someone there, but if there was, he’s gone now. We’re safe.”

“
Safe
? He’s out there watching us!” Eric snapped out, twisting angrily away from the window to bear down on his lover. “
He was in our own fucking backyard!
”

T.J. breathed a heavy sigh as he leveled a patient, tolerant look at his lover, and Eric felt his anger grudgingly drain away under a measure of guilt as the touch of gentle hands on his waist reminded him of exactly who it was he was snapping at. He didn’t, however, let go of the dread or the certainty of what he’d seen.

“I’m not jumping at shadows, T.J.,” he said steadily as he let T.J. pull him in. “I saw someone out there, and I know he was watching us. Whether it was Victor or one of his cronies, he was there.” He drew a shuddering sigh as he craned his neck back to look at the window. “I need to find him and put him away. And I need to do it soon.”

“I know, baby,” T.J. said quietly, twisting Eric around to lay a gentle kiss on his lips. “You will find him, and you will put him away. But not tonight.” Another kiss, longer and deeper. “Come on, let’s go back to bed.”

Eric balked at first, unwilling to brush aside what he’d seen and the danger he knew it meant to them both, until T.J. reached around him to the window and slid down the shade. Only then did his resistance fade enough for T.J. to move them back to the bed, and he didn’t fight it when T.J. laid them both on the sheets. His only protest began when T.J. lay between him and the window, but T.J. silenced him with a kiss, then distracted him by carefully lifting his wrist. His kiss to the inside of Eric’s wrist was tender and gentle and was finally enough to make Eric settle resignedly against his lover’s body. The mood of a winter night of lovemaking was shattered now, but the goodnight kiss they shared was long and lingering, and at last Eric felt the weariness that always came after a surge of adrenaline faded away. It was surprisingly comforting when T.J. pulled the blankets over them both.

But just as T.J.’s slow, even breathing finally began to lull him to sleep, his awareness of the window and what he had seen on the other side of the shade suddenly reemerged. Snapped awake by the terrifying thought that Victor was out there, Eric couldn’t keep his eyes off the shade, and not even the warmth of his lover’s arms could soothe away the fear that Victor was getting too close, and far too dangerous.

Chapter Seven

“
B
ARBADOS
?” Eric repeated, frowning at Belinda Cox, who was seated two seats down from him around the conference table. It wasn’t even 8:00 a.m. yet, and Eric had been forced to leave T.J. to his own devices for both breakfast and sex in order to drag himself in here despite the condition of the roads. The early morning call from Jeff Davis had sounded promising, though, and given the man he had seen outside his own house last night, Eric wasn’t about to wait until the roads were cleared. The reprieve from the sleet hadn’t lasted through the night, and new ice coated the streets as he made the treacherous drive to the precinct. From what he had heard so far, though, the trip would be worth it.

“The tickets were purchased two weeks ago from an online travel agency by a Mr. Alexander W. Daniels, but they were issued in the name of A. Kenczik,” Jeff told him calmly, picking up the report of events.

Eric eyed the man who was seated next to him. The aroma of bitter coffee surrounded them; the pot in the center of the table was already more than half empty. Kenczik wasn’t a common last name, and everyone here knew that Abraham was Judge Kenczik’s first name.

Jeff took a sip from his cup before continuing. “First-class flights and accommodations all the way, which means expensive, with no charges against any of the judge’s accounts, cash or credit.”

“The credit card used for the purchase was issued to this Alexander W. Daniels less than two months ago.” Barbara took up the thread, drawing Eric’s eyes back to her. “The address of the cardholder is a residence in Santa Barbara, California, and employment for Mr. Daniels was listed on the application as a chemical manufacturing plant in that area.”

“The only problem is that Alexander W. Daniels doesn’t exist,” Steve chimed in from Eric’s other side. “At least not the Alexander W. Daniels who bought the tickets to Barbados. The credit card used to purchase it was secured with an invalid SSN.”

“A fake social security number?” Eric repeated, sitting up straighter in his chair.

“Not fake,” Steve amended. “It’s real, but the owner of it died about twenty years ago.”

“Then how—”

“Failure of the identity theft security system,” Steve answered him easily, leaning back in his chair to stretch out his legs. “In other words, no one noticed that
that
particular SSN slipped through the cracks, and someone recently picked it up, assumed the name, and called it valid. It’s what we call ‘ghosting’.”

Ghosting? And it can be done that easily?