Everywhere She Turns (36 page)

He looked around. Decided he’d grab one of the pillows from the bed.

She turned at that same moment and they ran smack into each other.

“Sorry,” she muttered.

He gestured at the bed. “I just need—”

Her
. He needed her.

She looked up at him with those blue eyes and he was lost.

He grabbed her. Kissed her hard.

Her arms went around him and she leaned into his chest.

His fingers found the hem of her blouse, peeled it up and off. She struggled with the buttons of his shirt.

“Forget the buttons.” He whipped the shirt up over his head and tossed it to the floor.

She splayed her hands on his chest, smoothed them over his skin. He wanted to touch her that way. Pulling her bra loose, he
dipped his head down, tasted one of those high, firm breasts. His body shuddered with need, as did hers.

Her fingers tackled his fly. She dropped to her knees as she dragged his trousers and boxers down his legs. He stepped out of one shoe at a time, allowing her to drag his trousers free, first one leg, then the other. She sat back and studied him. All of him. His heart bolted into a gallop.

Then she touched him, traced his fully aroused length, her expression filled with wonder. When she leaned forward and tasted him, he lost complete control. He grabbed her up and carried her to the bed. Pitched aside her sandals and peeled off her jeans and panties.

He slid into bed next to her, skin to skin.

It felt so good. She was soft and hot and he couldn’t wait to be inside her.

Slow down
. He had to do it right this time.

He started at her throat, careful of the healing nick that could have been so much worse. His chest squeezed at the thought. Kissing his way down her chest, he traced her body with his hands. Learned all her curves and valleys and those lush, firm mounds. She whimpered, undulated her hips in anticipation.

Not certain how much experimenting she’d done in the past, he decided to show her how delicious sex could be. He pushed her thighs apart, admired her sweet pink sex. Then he dipped down for a taste.

She cried out, tilted her pelvis for more.

He traced her labia with his tongue. Sucked and nibbled her clit until she came right in front of him. He sat back, watched her body quiver with the waves of pleasure. Then he kissed his way back up her torso. Licked and sucked until she begged for more.

“Hurry,” she pleaded, wrapping her legs around his and urging his hips to hers.

He guided his cock to her wet opening. Nudged inside. God, she was tight. He pushed all the way in. Her fingers fisted in the sheets as her body arched upward to meet him.

Braddock braced his hands on the mattress on either side of
her head and leaned down to kiss those lush lips. She opened for him, his tongue swept inside her hungry mouth. He wanted to know all of her. Every inch. Every strand of hair.
All of her
.

When she came a second time, he let go, drove hard and fast until he roared into his own climax. He collapsed on the bed next to her, pulled her close.

Long minutes passed before their breathing slowed and the quiet crept in.

He wanted to hold her close like this, protect her, for as long as she would let him.

How could he let her go into that meeting with Nash tomorrow morning?

So damned dangerous.

She snuggled against his chest. Sighed softly.

whatever it took, he would keep her safe.

He couldn’t lose her.

She’d managed something no one else had ever been able to do. CJ Patterson made him want something more than to catch the bad guy.

1407 Dubose, 11:30
PM

“I can’t get in the house.”

Tyrone turned to his most trusted eyes. What the hell did he mean, he couldn’t get in the house? That was unacceptable. When the King gave an order, it was to be carried out. “You breathing, ain’t you?”

“But the police.” His loyal soldier looked ready to cut and run. “They watching the house. Front and back. No way I can get in.”

Rage erupted in Tyrone’s gut. “The po-po is guarding that fucking house?” His soldier nodded. “Get out!”

The man ’bout broke his fool neck getting out of the room.

What the hell?

Tyrone paced the length of his prison. That’s what his house had become. He couldn’t leave without the trinity. The house had to be watched twenty-four/seven. There was no peace to be found no more. His foot soldiers couldn’t stay in line. Run their fucking mouths more and more. His eyes and ears were falling down on the job.

Some fucking body shoulda noticed that doctor bitch digging around in Shelley’s goddamned house!

Nobody knowed nothing till it was too late.

Fuck. If there was one video, there might have been more. Then he coulda cut CJ out of the equation.

“Goddammit!”

Now he had no choice. If he wanted Braddock, he’d have to deal with CJ. She was pissed bad at Braddock. She wanted the name of her sister’s killer. Tyrone could give her what she wanted. Then, by God, he was gonna see to it that bitch had herself an accident.

His fingers traced the scar on his jaw. She’d had it coming a long fucking time.

Tomorrow he would deal with CJ.

He took a breath, cleared his head. He had other business to attend to. Cost better get his ass on the fucking ball. Tyrone wanted that goddamned money. Just in case this shit went south. His liquid assets were a little low right now. Cash was necessary if worse came to worst.

Braddock wouldn’t fucking back off.

If CJ had something on him, Tyrone might just finally be free of that asshole. His face twisted with the rage busting inside him. If he had his way, he would kill that mofo today. Cut off his fucking nuts and shove ’em down his throat.

None of this was necessary. Shelley and Ricky both would still be alive if they hadn’t stepped out of line. What did Braddock care if two pieces of shit got what was coming to them?

No. Tyrone shook his head. This wasn’t about Shelley or Ricky. It was ’bout that fucking niece of his.

Tyrone had thought the niece would teach the scum cop a lesson. But it hadn’t. Just made him more determined to come after Tyrone.

Well, his days were fucking numbered.

All Tyrone had to do was give CJ what she wanted, and that motherfucker was going down. Tyrone wanted him on his knees so bad he could taste it. If the tape had everything Shelley had promised to deliver on it, Tyrone would own Braddock.

Right now, he better hear from Cost.

The other bastard was avoiding his phone calls.

Tyrone would give him a couple more chances. If he didn’t take his call, he would wish he had.

Tyrone knew where he lived.

He was through playing with these people.

An example had to be set.

The King don’t tolerate this shit
.

Braddock had better brace himself. The killing wasn’t over yet . . . not by a long shot.

The King was about to give them something they wouldn’t forget.

Village Clinic, 11:50
PM

Juanita hurried down the dark alley. As hot as it was, she shivered. She hated this fucking village. It was creepy. Every low-life in the city appeared to live here.

Not wanting anyone to see her car at the clinic, she’d parked in the alley. CJ had demanded the key back. She had to be planning something. Probably to look for those damed lab results.

As soon as Juanita made it to the clinic’s rear entrance, she pulled the ring of keys from her pocket. Her hand was shaking. The keys hit the ground. “Dammit.” She picked them up and rammed the key into the lock. As soon as she had the door open, she hurried inside. Cost wasn’t supposed to be here for another hour, but he could come earlier. She had to be prepared.

The bastard might think he was going to give her a hard time, but that wasn’t going to happen.

She wasn’t going down without taking him with her.

CJ Patterson could threaten all she wanted. Cost would simply have to deal with her. If it put a big-ass debit in his bank account, well, that was just too bad.

Juanita didn’t have any savings. No 401(k). Nothing. She’d finally managed to buy a decent home for her son. Just last year she’d purchased the first new car she’d owned in her whole life. She wasn’t going to be the one losing here.

Cost should have kept his dick in his pants. The bastard.

She had documented everything. The whole sordid history since he’d become preceptor of the clinics where she worked. The STD he’d given Shelley three months ago. The stupid bastard had been whoring around with the prostitutes on this side of the parkway for years. Too fucking egotistical to use a condom every time. He had access to the clinic records, knew who was clean and who wasn’t. But that little strategy had failed him. Still, he’d thought he wouldn’t get caught if he kept his nasty business in the ghetto. Why would he worry? He’d had Juanita to cover his back.

And the Vicodin. She knew all about that. He thought he was so smart. He’d kept that part hidden from her. But she’d figured it out. Did he think she was stupid? Please. The stuff the pathetic tramps asked for was usually for him. He paid them big bucks to get prescriptions filled and then give the painkillers to him. Shelley had never ratted him out, but several others had. Juanita had gained their confidence. They’d gotten tired of being abused by Cost. Juanita had lent a sympathetic ear.

She had it all documented. Every fucking part of it.

He’d called and demanded this meeting, and she was going to show him just how much trouble he was in. CJ Patterson was the least of his worries. If he gave Juanita any grief, he would be sorry as hell. She would go straight to his big-shot grandfather, and his life, as he knew it, would be over.

She knew exactly how afraid he was of his grandfather.

Switching on the lights as she went, she tossed her purse onto her desk and flipped through the pages of the file she’d brought along with her.

A smile tugged at her lips. Boy, was he going to be surprised. He would wish he hadn’t made this appointment with destiny.

A distinct click told her he’d come through the rear exit.
Shit
. She’d forgotten to lock the door. The bastard was early. As she listened, she heard the deadbolt turn. He’d locked the door behind him.

She smiled.
That’s right. Take those precautions now
. He should have been doing that way before now.

Her smile slid into a grin. She couldn’t wait to hear him beg. The mere idea was more than enough to make coming to this appointment at this hour worth the trouble of finding a sitter.

She sat down on the edge of her desk and reached into her purse for the gun she’d bought a couple of months ago. Her neighbor had thought it was a stupid idea.
Never carry a weapon and definitely never pull a weapon on someone unless you plan to use it
. She didn’t know if she could really use it on someone, but she felt safer having it with her.

Feeling pretty damned cocky, she waited for Cost to reach her office. Boy, was he going to get the shock of his life. The whisper of rubber soles on the tiled corridor floor fueled her anticipation.

Carter Cost was about to have his first real wake-up call. An appointment with the destiny he’d been avoiding for a whole goddamned decade.

And no amount of threatening to take her son was going to get him out of this one. That threat had always been an empty one, anyway. He wouldn’t have dared let his father and grandfather learn of that little indiscretion.

Her appointment paused before he reached the door. Bracing for the battle, she supposed.

“Come on, you wimp,” she baited. “It’ll only hurt for a minute.”

“Actually . . .”

Her eyes widened as her own appointment with destiny appeared in the door.

“It’s going to hurt a lot longer than that.”

Merrimack Hall, Mill Village

Sunday, August 8, 9:45
AM

“Remember,” Braddock warned, “only let him watch thirty seconds. Any more than that and you’re in trouble.”

CJ nodded. “I understand.” Her body had only just now stopped humming with desire after waking up in Braddock’s arms and making love this morning.

Her breath hitched a little even as she recalled those incredible minutes.

If CJ closed her eyes, she could still feel his weight on her body . . . his mouth on her skin.

“CJ?”

She hauled her attention back to the present. “I’m sorry. What did you say?”