Darker Than Desire (21 page)

“The music—”

“I don't care,” he muttered, his mouth at her throat as his hands went to her shoulders. One quick yank and her coat was on the floor. “Need you.”

The stark, rough hunger in his voice sent a rush of desire racing through her and she wrapped her arms around him, turning her face to his just as he lifted his head to kiss her. “Then have me.”

He caught the long, simple fall of her skirt starting to drag upward, drawn by his hand. His gaze never moved from hers. Her heart started to race. Her breath was already ragged. Need was a beast inside her belly, ready to attack.

The skirt cleared her hips and he slid his hands inside her panties and smoothed them down. “Here…?” The questioning lilt in his voice had her smoothing her hands up his neck.

“Here. There.” Her lids dropped as the underwear fell to the floor, tangling around her ankles. “Anywhere.”

“Hmmm.” His hands cupped her hips. It had been a long walk and he was chilly, making her shiver as he drew her closer. “Anywhere, Sybil?”

She smiled against his lips. “Anywhere. Anytime.”

“You're all but daring me now,” he muttered, catching her lower lip and biting her gently.

Heat blistered through her. Such a simple thing and it turned her on. Of course, David just had to
look
at her and she wanted him. Had to exist and she wanted him.

Sliding a hand down, she stroked him through his trousers. They were black and fit him close, clung to long, hard thighs and showcased his ass so very well. “You look so different wearing this kind of clothes,” she teased as he arched into her hand. She squeezed tight, watching as his pupils dilated. “I saw women checking your ass out and part of me wanted to tell you to go back to the other clothes.”

“I will.” He pressed a hot, openmouthed kiss to the center of her chest, just above the swell of her breasts. Her skin prickled from the sensation and she groaned as need twisted inside her. “I don't care what I'm wearing.”

She flicked him a look, saw nothing but sincerity in his eyes. She smiled as she started to tug at his zipper. “No. You're you now. Be you.” Then she shoved his pants and shorts down far enough that she could wrap her hand around his cock.

A harsh flush settled on his cheeks and he reached down, covered her hand with his. “Sybil.” It was a hungry, demanding groan and he started to pump against her hand, using his own to make her squeeze tighter and tighter.

She twisted her wrist. “Stop.”

He did, not even a heartbeat after the word had left her lips.

“Did I—”

She cut the words off with a press of her lips to his. “Inside me now. Please,” she said, all too aware of the near-desperate plea inside her voice.

*   *   *

The ragged, desperate whisper in her voice nearly put him on his knees even as it flooded him with more delight than he thought it was possible to feel. He could make her feel that way. Make her want him like this.

It was a feeling that he couldn't describe.

He wanted to go to his knees and press his mouth to her, spread her open and taste her. Except the hunger that rode her was pushing him, too. He could take his time once he'd made her come, once he'd eased that vicious ache he saw in her eyes.

Boosting her up, he caught her ass in his hands as she clung to him.

“Now,” he muttered.

He pressed against her, felt the soft, swollen tissues of her pussy yielding to him. It was almost reluctant, the way her slick heat accepted him, bit by bit, slowly, and even as she wrapped around him she squeezed down on him, so tight and sweet, he felt like he was fucking his way into a silk-gloved fist. Except only Sybil felt this sweet. Only Sybil made him wish he could be more, give her more.

He pulled out slowly, surged back in and listened as she gasped out his name, her nails sinking into his flesh to leave tiny little darts of pain as she tightened her grip. He shuddered as that sensation raced down to his cock, drew his balls tighter.

He wanted—

Even as he went to push away from the door, though, he stopped.

No.
This was what he wanted. Dragging his eyes open, he focused on her, on the splayed length of her thighs as he drove into her, the soft pink flesh stretched around his cock as he plunged deep. Shifting his grip, he slid a hand down the satin of her leg until he could reach her clit.

There she was swollen. So swollen and hot, just a light touch had her jolting, bucking and grinding against him.

He gritted his teeth at the sensation, driving into her harder, deeper.

She whimpered, a broken sound that had him tensing.

Then her eyes flew open and she sought him out blindly. “Do it again—”

He did, driving into her hard as he started to tug on her clit, feeling the rhythmic pulsing deep in her sex.

Her hands tangled in his hair. “David … please … please…” she said, her voice a mindless chant in his ear.

Lost in the sound of her voice, he felt her tighten around him. Soon. She'd come soon, and then he could—

She tangled her hands in his hair. Tugged his head gently to the side. Then she set her teeth in his neck and bit.

Everything went black and he snarled as his hips bucked against hers.

His climax exploded from him before he even realized he was coming.

*   *   *

Sybil managed to hide her smug smile against his chest.

Right up until he moved.

They'd slid down to the floor, then he went to his back, her body draped over him, but that had been ten minutes ago, easy. Maybe more. The only thing that she was sure of was that she hurt in the best way possible.

Well, that and David had just rolled her onto her back and was kissing his way down her neck.

“David…”

He didn't even look up.

Oh, well.
Wasn't like she'd expected him to discuss it. They'd never really talked about it anyway, but she knew things were different with them.

But this had
really
been different.

His mouth touched her hip bone and she squirmed. Her skin broke out in goose bumps at the caress of his breath, but she tried to force her body under her control.

Not that her body—or her libido—wanted to listen. “I need to shower,” she whispered, self-conscious.

He paused; then a soft sigh skittered across her belly. “Am I invited?”

“Hmmm.” She slid a hand down his back and then tangled her fingers in his hair. “Always.”

A moment later, she was shrieking in surprise as he tossed her over his shoulder, her ass up in the air. “Damn it, you idiot. Put me down.”

“I like you this way.” His hand curved up over her rump and she shuddered as his fingers dipped between the crevice of her cheeks. “Got to be honest, Syb. There aren't many ways I don't like you.”

“Clearly, you haven't seen me when I'm raging with PMS.”

He lowered her to the floor once he crossed the floor into the bathroom. “Can't be any worse than me seven days a week, for the past twenty years.” He cupped her face and arched her head back. “But you're still here. Why are you still here?”

“Why are you having such a hard time figuring that one out?”

His blue eyes held hers for a long moment, and then finally he eased back without answering, turning to the shower to turn on the water, waiting until it warmed before he came back to her. “I want you wet and naked, under the water. Then I'm going to fuck you again.”

Her breath hitched in her throat. “Promises, promises … I hope you plan on keeping them.”

*   *   *

It was something he tried not to think about. He'd climaxed, all from being inside her and the way she'd bitten him.

He usually needed a lot more than that, but it had happened again in the shower.

Unwilling to chance it a third time, he'd just held her when they fell onto the little daybed she had in her office. She'd mentioned that sometimes she had to get up for early-morning shoots and there were other times she ended up with a cranky toddler who needed a short nap. The bed was proving to be handy now, too, although it was a tight fit, his frame almost too long for it, and they didn't fit unless they were on their sides, his body tucked around hers.

Not that he had a problem at all, lying there with his cock cuddled up against her ass, her back smooth and soft against his chest. It wasn't late, that soft, pearly light of the coming evening just settling across the sky.

But he was exhausted.

Her hand stroked his.

As he drifted closer and closer to sleep, the only thing on his mind was that he was glad she was here.

He kept meaning to pull away, to push her away.

But he just didn't know how.

*   *   *

It was dark out when the knock came.

Hard and firm, like whoever was knocking knew she was there and wasn't taking
no
for an answer.

Sybil sat up, or tried to, as much as she could with David's arm half-locked around her waist.

She glanced down at him and saw him staring up at her in the dim light. “I need to get up.”

“No, you don't. You're not open.”

He pressed his lips to her hip, his teeth scraping her skin lightly.

Shuddering, she broke his hold and stood. “If I don't get up, they'll just keep battering.”

Besides, she'd rather be close to the alarm in case somebody was trying to—

“Sybil, if you're in there, open the door. It's Detectives Bell and Thorpe, from the Madison Police Department.”

“Well, hell.” Grimacing, Sybil hit the light and moved into the main room, pausing only long enough to grab her dress and pull it on. Behind her she heard David moving around, and she glanced back to see him zipping up his pants as he came in.

Looking down at her braless breasts, well aware of what she looked like, she moved to the door and opened it a crack just as Jensen went to knock again. “What in the hell do you want?” Sybil asked sourly.

Jensen stared at her, her face flat, eyes unreadable. “Is David Sutter in there with you?”

“Why?” A cold chill raced down her back.

“Just answer the question.”

Sybil gave them a cool smile and shrugged. “I've got no reason to. Private place, after hours, yadda yadda yadda. Unless of course you give me a—damn it, David!” She glared at him as he caught the door and forced it open, despite her attempts not to let him.

Jensen eyed her for a moment and then looked at David, her gaze taking in his bare chest before returning to linger on Sybil. Sybil had no doubt she was noting the bare feet, mussed hair, lack of a bra and other details that Sybil hadn't yet thought about. “I've got questions and it will go a lot easier on David if you two would just be forthcoming,” Jensen said bluntly.

“Yeah, I hear that all the time,” Sybil said. “David, call your damn lawyer.”

Jensen opened her mouth, but David cut her off. “What do you want?”

Sybil hissed and rounded on him, but he wasn't even sparing her a glance.

“How long have you two been here?” Jensen asked, her voice sharp, impatient.

Cocking his head, David was quiet a moment and then shrugged. “Probably since two thirty or so. Sybil has a security system. It's got video feed and can verify the exact time, I'd imagine.”

Was it just Sybil or did Jensen seem to relax a little? “And you didn't leave? Not even once?”

Sybil was the one to cut in this time. “If he'd tried to leave, I'd have hit him over the head with a tree branch or something. I'm in a cavewoman sort of mood lately.”

Thorpe went red, but Jensen just arched a brow. “So you dragged him off to your cave the day of his … friend's funeral?”

Sybil stared at Jensen without flinching. “There are different types of comfort.”

David's hand came up, curved over the back of her neck.

“Funeral aside, my sex life aside … Jensen, why are you here?”

The cop slid her partner a look and then blew out a breath. As her hazel eyes came back to them, Sybil felt her gut draw up into a tight, cold knot. “I need you both to get dressed. Sybil, if you need a few more minutes, that's fine, but we need to wait inside. The two of you need to come down to the station and give us a statement.”

“Why?” David demanded, his voice flat.

“You had an altercation with Louisa Mueller earlier today,” Jensen said, her tone an echo of David's. “We had a call from her coffee shop a short while ago.”

Sybil felt that knot drawing tighter, colder, as Jensen's eyes passed back and forth between them.

Softly Jensen said, “Louisa Mueller was murdered today. Not long after the funeral.”

 

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Stubborn, cold son of a bitch.

Sorenson studied David Sutter from across the table and tried to think of some way to crack the man's icy exterior. So far, Sorenson hadn't yet been able to so much as put even one small chip in it, much less crack it.

“You sure you don't want some coffee?” Sorenson had been forced to stop drinking it thirty minutes ago, but if something didn't give soon he'd have to step out of the room, and damned if he wanted that to happen. This was the first time he'd managed to get the bastard in the station and he planned on taking advantage of it.

Maybe he was skirting the line here—there didn't seem to be a connection between Louisa's vicious murder and the calm, methodical executions that had taken place here in town over the past few weeks. The only reason he had for bringing David in was the incident between them in the cemetery, and if Sutter had anything to do with her murder Sorensen would eat his hat.

Although the man had made his feelings about Louisa clear.
She is—well, she was a vindictive bitch. That isn't any reason for me to kill her.