Bitten by Cupid (27 page)

“Unless I’m starting to hear
your
thoughts.” He gave her a playful smile.

She reached for the platter he was holding, and their fingers slid against each other’s. Even covered in soap suds, his hands were great, strong, with long fingers, and she imagined them sliding across her skin. The image of that made her face flush with heat. She set down the platter in the sink. He was looking at her, not the next dirty dish. She slid her fingers between his in slow strokes, her gaze never leaving his.

He kissed her, his soapy hand going to the back of her neck, cradling her. She blindly slapped her hand down on the faucet handle to turn off the water and slid her arms up around his neck. His soft hair brushed the backs of her hands. He kissed across her cheek to the sensitive skin beneath her ear. She tilted her head back, lost in the chills sweeping down her body. His arms went down to her waist, pulling her body against his. His arousal, pressing into her stomach, sent a pulsing heat through her. She slid her hands down his back, then over the tight butt she’d just been admiring. He moaned softly, pulling her closer.

He ran his hands over her shoulders, then up and down her sides. Knowing he was a gentleman, she decided to make it perfectly clear that it was okay to touch her. She moved into his touch, her breast filling his hand. He squeezed her gently, sending a cascade of pleasure through her. She let out a soft moan of her own. How long had it been since she’d been touched?

Way too long.

He pushed aside the dishes they hadn’t gotten to yet and hoisted her up to the counter. That put her at his level, face-to-face. She kissed him, almost breathless, and then he moved his way down her body.

He unbuttoned her blouse, kissing the center of her chest, the swell of her breasts, and after he removed her bra, her nipples. He touched her, caressed, his movements becoming more fevered, as though he couldn’t get enough of her. She’d never felt this way about a guy. This was hot, mindless, wild stuff.

She pulled his shirt up and over his head and kissed over the curves of his chest, her mouth and fingers drinking in the exquisite softness of his skin, the firmness of his body.

She wrapped her legs around his waist, and whispered next to his ear, “My bedroom’s the door on the left.”

Wearing a skirt, she could feel him pressing right up against her femininity, only the silk of her thong and the fabric of his pants between them.

That was going to change fast.

He wrapped his arms around her and lifted her off the counter. With his hands on her derriere, he held her as he walked to the bedroom. She pushed the door closed in case her roomie came home unexpectedly. He leaned down on the bed, and she let go of him long enough to push her skirt and panties down.

He hungrily took her in, his hand skimming her body and over her pubic hair. His thumb nudged between her folds, and her breath hitched audibly. She reached down to his belt and unhooked it, then unzipped his pants. He stood to get out of them, and her breath hitched again at the beauty of his body.

She wanted him, and not because he was gorgeous or even because she couldn’t hear his thoughts. She was sprawled back on the bed, feeling hunger sweeping through her, physical and emotional.

“I want you,” she said, her voice husky.

He stroked her inner thigh. “I was going to—”

“I want you now.”

He merely arched an eyebrow, but his smile told her he had no problem with her demand. He reached down and pulled out his wallet, extracting a condom. That did it. She really did love him, or was in love with him, because she was so wild with all of her emotions she hadn’t thought about that.

She took the foil pack and tore it open. Coming to her knees, she took the length of him in her hand, making him suck in a breath. Damn, she’d never been with a man so big before. She slid the condom down over him, trying not to rush even though she wanted him inside her
now.

She wrapped her hands over his shoulders and pulled him down. She loved missionary style. It left them face-to-face and body to body. He slid into her slowly, though she could see the urgency in his face, too. He was trying to ease in so he didn’t hurt her.

To hell with that. She pulled him down, and when he filled her, the sensation swept through her entire body. He filled her, body and soul. She wrapped her legs around his waist again, pulling her hips even closer to his. They moved together, in perfect rhythm, hitting both her internal and external hot buttons.

He stroked her cheek with his thumb, looking into her eyes as though she were the most precious thing on earth. Making love with Adrian felt like making love for the first time. She couldn’t remember being with anyone else, only this man.

Their bodies became slick with sweat, even in the cool room.

“You
are
hot-blooded,” he said.

She nodded, giving him a coy smile, then she lost herself in the sensations building inside her. If he could hold on for a few more strokes…

She felt the explosion send sparks through her. And still he moved, bringing her to another orgasm.

“Oh…my…gosh,” she uttered on a breathless whisper, her body going completely limp.

She squeezed her vaginal muscles as she moved, and his breath hitched. He came with a long groan, pulsing inside her. He kissed her with the fierceness of his orgasm, fast and deep, plunging in and running his tongue along her teeth, then her lips. He was breathless, too, his blue eyes hazy with senselessness, his face flushed. His body heat enveloped her.

He rolled over so she was on top, their bodies still connected. “That was amazing.” He pulled her close and kissed her again. “You were amazing.”

“Ditto.” And he was still hard.

He didn’t get up right away. He stroked her backside with his fingertips, so soft it almost tickled. She laid her cheek on his chest, running her finger lazily around his nipple.

“Stay the night with me.” She lifted her face to look at him. “Not because I’m scared of Kiss and Kill Cupid. He won’t be a threat until day after tomorrow.”

“I’d love to.”

“I’ll get the wine. We can finish the bottle in bed.” She got up. “The bathroom’s around the corner. My roommate usually stays with her boyfriend on the weekends, but I’ll make sure the coast is clear first.”

He walked into the bathroom and a minute later came out to the kitchen, where she was trying to get her hands around two half-full glasses and the bottle. Damn, he was
still
hard. What was he, miracle man or something?

“Here, let me help.” He took the glasses and scanned the dirty dishes. “What about the kitchen? We got a bit distracted.”

She waved it away. “I’m not in the mood. Let her write her sticky notes in all caps if she comes home early.” The phone rang. “Maybe that’s her now, and somehow she knows I’m leaving the kitchen in a mess.” She laughed. “I’m not getting it.”

They were walking back to her bedroom when her roommate’s deadpan voice announced, “We’re not here, leave a message.”

“Kristy, it’s Dale Soza. You must have a reporter’s instincts; you’re onto something with this Owen guy. He’s a murderer! Call me right away.”

She met Adrian’s gaze, now filled with disbelief. “Who’s Dale Soza?”

“He’s a reporter. I asked him to poke around a bit.”

“You had a
reporter
check into Owen’s background?”

She set the wine bottle on the table next to the answering machine. “Just to make sure. And I made Dale promise he wouldn’t publish anything about Owen.” She was wilting under his cold stare.

“You don’t think a reporter is going to keep a secret about someone who’s had media attention before?”

“I do. Look, I had to find out about Owen’s past. You weren’t going to tell me. I figured, Dale’s a reporter, so he has to be good at finding out stuff. But they protect their sources, too. There was a reporter who went to jail because he wouldn’t reveal his sources.”

His voice was dangerously low when he said, “Did you tell him about my visions?”

“No, God, no. Nor about my hearing the killer’s thoughts.”

Then it hit her, what Dale had said. “Adrian, he said Owen killed someone. Is that true?”

He walked into the bedroom and started putting on his pants. She ran in after him, snatching up her pink silk robe. The room felt cold now, stippling her skin. “Adrian, don’t go. My feelings were right about him. He did kill someone.”

He looked at her as he pulled on his shirt. “You don’t know what you’ve done. You’ve probably ruined him, both professionally and personally. And maybe the magazine, too. Who knows the fallout once this goes public?”

She followed him to the door, touching his shoulder. “Tell me what he did.”

He brushed off her touch. “Yes, he did kill someone. When he was seven, his stepfather beat the heck out of his mother again. Once he was done with her, he usually turned on Owen. That time was the worst. The man had a knife and threatened to cut off her finger. Owen grabbed the man’s gun, the one he would probably have used on them eventually. It was the only way he could think of to stop him. He’d tried to do it once before, but the guy threw him against the wall and broke two of his ribs. His mother was too scared to get them out of there. So Owen fixed it, as a kid thinks he can, because that’s how it works on television and in video games. He shot the man.”

Her hand went to her mouth. “That’s terrible.”

“There was an investigation, but he was never charged with murder. How that jerk found out about it I’ll never know. I’ve got to warn Owen. I don’t want him finding out by surprise. Or worse, having someone else tell him.”

He left, slamming the door shut. “Lock it,” he barked.

Even mad at her, he was concerned about her safety. That made it even worse. She might have destroyed his friend’s life if he wasn’t Kiss and Kill Cupid. Now she was going to pay the price by losing the best man she’d ever found.

Kristy called Dale once the shock had worn off. “What did you find out?”

He told her basically what Adrian had told her. “So if he’s killed once, he could kill again.”

“Dale, you promised you’d keep his name out of the paper.”

“Unless he’s Kiss and Kill Cupid.”

“Right, unless. But otherwise—”

“It’s hot news, Kristy. But I did tell you reporters had to have integrity.”

She wasn’t exactly comfortable with that answer. “Yes, you did.” But had he actually promised not to print anything about Owen, in those exact words?

“I think we’re onto something here. The tool I saw you with today, is that Adrian Kruger? Owen Bushnell’s business partner?”

“Tool?” Before she could get annoyed about his calling Adrian that, she frowned. “When did you see us together?”

“I saw you coming out of his office building. You two look pretty cozy.”

Well, they used to. “Never mind him. What do we do about Owen?”

“I’ll follow him on Valentine’s Day. I’ve got his home address. But…what if he’s not the killer? What about you? Are you going to be with the tool?”

“I’ll be fine.” Would she? No, she knew Adrian well enough to know he wouldn’t abandon her. “I’ll talk to you later. Oh, and he’s not a tool!”

As she hung up, her roommate came in. Her gaze went right to the kitchen. “Oh, great. A mess. And pot handles sticking out!” She trudged to her room and shut the door with a bit too much force.

Kristy turned around and did the same thing. Let her get a good look at the mess in the morning. Kristy just didn’t care.

Chapter Seven

The next day, Kristy held off for as long as she could before calling Adrian: eleven o’clock in the morning. She was relieved when he answered. “Hi. Look, I just wanted to know—”

“I’ll be there tomorrow. And yes, you’re still hired, and you’re still going to Wimberly.”

She breathed out in relief. He’d taken the onus off her to ask, which made him all the more wonderful and made it all the worse that she’d probably blown it as far as a relationship went. “Thank you. I spoke with Dale Soza, and he promised not to run the story. How did Owen take the news?”

“Not well. He doesn’t believe in our abilities, so he doesn’t know what to make of it. What’s your schedule like today? I want to come over and go over our plan, since we got waylaid last night.”

He sounded cool, businesslike. She smacked her forehead with the heel of her hand. She’d really screwed up. Unless Owen turned out to be Kiss and Kill Cupid, and maybe not even then. “I’m picking up an arrangement of flowers for my mom and going to take them to her. Other than that, I’m free.”

“How about four o’clock?”

Too late for lunch, too early for dinner. “Sounds fine.”

She hung up and slung her purse over her shoulder. The kitchen was spotless, cleaned through the power of nervous energy. She tied a dark pink scarf around her neck and headed out into a sunny but chilly day.

She returned by four and found Adrian arriving. Damn, why did he look even more gorgeous now that she’d probably lost him?

She gave him a soft smile as he held the door open for her. They ascended the stairs to the second floor, and she unlocked the door. After a quick glance around, she said, “Good, looks like my roommate’s already gone.” She turned to him. “Come, follow me.” She walked into her bedroom, turning to see him standing in the living area looking dubious. “To go over the plan.”

She was going to have to act just as businesslike as he was and pretend her heart wasn’t breaking. She stepped over to the window. “So I was thinking, he’s probably going to come in here.” She looked out at the fire escape and got a shiver. “The fire escape runs almost to the living-room window. If I hang around the living room, he could come into my bedroom so I don’t see him.”

She walked over to her dresser and handed him a piece of paper that was lying next to her perfume bottles. “This is a rough map of the building. You can come around the back from the side street, here. I scoped out a good place to park and the best way to approach the rear entrance.” She pointed to the area she’d marked. “He might be hiding back along here, so you should disguise yourself in case he’s seen us together.”