I'm Watching You (30 page)

A startled little gasp surprised him and he raised his head. Confused panic warred with the passion in her eyes. „Sshh,“ he soothed. „It’s just my hand. That’s all. I’ll stop.“

Her eyes narrowed and her hand once again covered his, keeping him from making good on his offer. „No, you won’t“

His lips quirked. She’d taken the reins. Good for her. „Whatever you say, lady.“

„Don’t call me lady.“ Then she closed her eyes, her lips pressed together. Her hand fell away from his, clutching the quilt. She frowned, focusing so hard he had to smile. He rubbed the heel of his hand across the hard bone of her pubis, watched her face change, soften, watched pleasure chase the frown away. She was beautiful like this, discovering her own capacity for passion. He fondled her through her slacks, saying nothing, showing her how good she could feel. Her eyes flew open and in them he saw amazement and urgency.

„Don’t stop,“ she whispered.

He gritted his teeth against the sudden surge of his own body. Not now.
This time is Kristen’s
. „I won’t.“ He didn’t, and she moved her hips, lifting against his hand, her breath coming in hard pants. She braced one foot on the mattress so she could push harder and then her body froze. Her hand dropped the quilt and clamped over his, pressing, pressing, and Abe knew he’d never seen anything sexier than Kristen caught up in climax. She slumped back, still panting. His body hurt, his erection straining for release. But even the power of his own need was nothing compared to the look in her eyes when her lashes lifted.

„I did it“ It was an awed whisper. „I really did it.“

He had to smile despite the throbbing in his groin. „Yes, you did.“

„Thank you.“ It was more than simple gratitude. This was a watershed moment in her life and he was humbled to have shared it with her. He could only hope she had another, more advanced watershed moment very soon. He wasn’t sure his body could stand the strain of watching her again without participating a little more actively.

He tugged her bra up to cover her breast and pushed the tousled curls away from her face. „You’re welcome.“

She shuddered out a breath. „You didn’t…“

He pressed a hard kiss to her mouth. „I didn’t. But it’s okay.“

She bit her lip. „I’m sorry.“

He laid a finger against her lips. „Be quiet. I’m fine.“

„Abe…“ Tears filled her eyes and her breath hitched. „I’m sorry, I – “

„Sshh.“ He gathered her in his arms, settling her on his lap for the second time that evening. He’d had expected this response, but still her tears tore at his heart. She pressed her cheek against his chest and her shoulders shook.

„I was so afraid.“

He kissed the top of her head. „Of me?“

She shook her head. „Not you. That I’d never…“ She lifted a shoulder. „You know.“

He knew and he silently cursed whoever had made her lose confidence in her own body, who’d hurt her so badly that she’d all but buried whoever she’d once been.

Hurt her
. What a pathetic euphemism that was. He was a cop, he’d seen everything and still he had trouble saying the word he knew she’d never forget.
Rape
. She’d been raped. He made himself think the word, forced himself to stay calm when what he really wanted to do was find out who’d done it and tear his guts out with his bare hands, and felt a flash of respect, gratitude to the killer who’d already removed one rapist from the planet. It was wrong to feel that way, but at the moment, if he knew who’d hurt the woman in his arms, he wasn’t sure that he wasn’t capable of cold-blooded retribution murder himself.

„Do you want to talk about it now?“ he asked quietly and her body tensed.

She shook her head again, more vehemently this time. „No, not now. Not now.“

Abe hugged her close. „Then sleep.“

Monday, February 23,

1:30 a.m.

He’d lost control before, with Conti. That couldn’t, wouldn’t happen again. Not that the beast didn’t deserve it, and a lot more. But it was dangerous. He’d left evidence behind on Conti’s body, of that he was certain, but apart from dipping the man in a vat of lye, he didn’t know how to rectify the situation. What was, was.

You could have just buried him and left his family to wonder
, he thought. But that would have robbed him of precious closure. The world knew that Conti had been punished for his crimes against Paula Garcia, her unborn son, the American justice system, and last but far from least, Kristen Mayhew. Perhaps now the scum that paraded through her court would think twice before publicly defaming her name.

He shifted, trying to find a comfortable place on the concrete of the roof. He’d had to find a new rooftop. Who would have thought the police would use Skinner’s car to guide them to the old rooftop? He had to give them credit. Mitchell and Reagan were no fools. Especially that Reagan. He frowned a little, thinking of how Reagan arrived to rescue Kristen from those thugs that ran her car off the road. Kristen had walked into his arms like she’d known him all her life instead of only a few days.

He sincerely hoped that Reagan wasn’t the kind of man to push his advantage. If Reagan was foolish enough to try, he’d find Kristen had powerful allies in hidden places.

Aah, finally. He’d thought his target would never come. After his little detour with Conti, he’d gone back to the fishbowl and resumed his quest. Tonight’s mark had been easy enough to lure. He’d found Arthur Monroe in a bar, quickly made friends by buying the man a beer. Then he’d made Monroe practically drool by bragging about a stash of pure cocaine and offering him some if Monroe met him here tonight. The lure had worked well in the past, bringing him every mark except for Skinner who’d required a slightly different candy. Skinner’s lure had been the promise of discrediting information about a victim who was accusing one of Skinner’s clients with sexual harassment. His lips curled in distaste. Killing Skinner had been one of his greater contributions to humanity.

But tonight was about Arthur Monroe, a man who’d justified his gross sexual imposition of the young daughter of his girlfriend by saying the five-year-old had „led him on,“ that he „hadn’t been able to help himself,“ that it had been a „one time thing.“ Kristen pushed for a trial, but the mother refused to allow her child to testify. He gritted his teeth as he brought the mark into his sight Most of the time parents refused to allow their children to testify to protect them from media exposure and further trauma. This little girl’s mother didn’t want her boyfriend to go to jail. To Kristen’s shock, the judge in this case had sided with the boyfriend.

He’d known her by then and remembered that day well. She’d been devastated. She’d worked out a plea that she’d found repugnant enough, but the judge had unbelievably decided society in general had failed the pedophilic boyfriend and had rejected the plea, sentencing Monroe to probation and counseling.

Probation. For molesting a five-year-old. He smiled grimly as he tracked the man crossing the road. This time he’d get the boyfriend. Maybe next time he’d pull a judge’s name out of the fishbowl. Because there were judges in there, waiting with all the others.

He inched the sight down, bringing the man’s knees into view. He really wanted Monroe to pay, and with more than an easy death. But the vision of his own bloody hands after he’d killed Conti entered his mind, front and center.
His bloody, gloveless hands
. What a stupid mistake to make. He couldn’t risk losing control again. The police already knew the florist sign on the van was a sham, and they’d recovered a bullet. That the bullet was too damaged to identify was a short-term boon. Sooner or later they’d figure it out and find him. He needed to hurry. There were many more names in the fishbowl.

He brought the sight up to Monroe’s forehead and gently squeezed the trigger.

Nine down and still a million to go.

Chapter Fifteen

Monday, February 23,

5:00 A.M.

„Wake up.“

Kristen heard the fly buzzing and swatted it away. „Kristen, wake up.“

No, not a buzzing fly. A rumbling voice. Abe. She rolled to her back, her eyes flying open. Abe sat on the edge of her bed, looking worried. And incredibly handsome. His shirt hung open partway, giving her a glimpse of his chest. It was hard, she knew. She’d felt his solid strength each time he’d held her against him. Now she wondered how it would feel to touch him there, to slide her fingers through the thick dark hair that covered his chest. Would it be coarse or soft? Would he like it? Would she feel his groan rumble beneath her hands?

As she contemplated, his hand lifted to smooth the hair away from her face so tenderly she wanted to sigh. He had such gentle hands. Such very nice hands. She shifted her body, feeling a warm throbbing between her legs that she now knew could become more than just a frustrating distraction. Much more.
So that’s why everyone is so hooked on orgasms
, she thought. The feeling had been simply… indescribable. Exhilarating. Powerful
. I did it. I finally, really did it
. And she wanted to do it again.

How exactly did one go about making such a request? And if she did, when would he expect more? Eventually, he’d want… well, more. And despite his arguments to the contrary, he would be disappointed. Abruptly the warmth chilled.
So much for that
.

He bent his head a fraction closer. „Are you all right?“

„I’m fine.“

He narrowed those blue eyes. „You don’t look fine. You shouldn’t go into work.“

„I have to. I’ve got motion hour at nine.“ She struggled up onto her elbows and groaned at the resulting pain in her back. „It feels like I got hit with a truck.“

„You did. A big truck with a gun.“

Her stomach quivered and she glanced over at her bedroom window. She’d nearly forgotten about the attack. It should have been her first thought, waking up. But it hadn’t been. Her first thought was of Reagan and his hands.

„You’re safe now,“ Reagan said soothingly. „You don’t have to be afraid.“ But she wasn’t afraid. No man had ever made her feel truly safe. Not until this man.

She looked him straight in the eye. „I know. Thank you.“

His eyes changed in a flash, going from worried to heated and the warm throbbing in her own body returned, intensifying almost to the point of pain. She watched his throat work. His jaw clenched. But he made no move to touch her. And she wanted him to.

She was in bed. With a man. And she wasn’t afraid. Not taking her eyes from his, her lips curved. „Good morning.“

His nostrils flared and she heard the quick intake of his breath. „Good morning.“

He needed to shave, she thought The beginning of a dark beard covered his cheeks, his chin. That space between his nose and his upper lip. Tentatively she reached up and trailed her fingertips along that space, then across his lips. And he swallowed hard.

„What?“ she whispered, her fingertips resting on his lips. They were soft, but she knew they could be hard when they crushed against hers.

His eyes smoldered. „You’re beautiful,“ he whispered back.

She had to remember to breathe. „No, I’m not.“

He pressed a kiss to the inside of her wrist and she wondered if he could feel her pulse quicken. He leaned closer until their eyes were just inches apart. This close she could see the blue was rimmed in black. „Yes, you are.“ Then he tilted his head and his lips were on hers and it started all over again. The rushing, the pounding, the throbbing. The wanting. She heard herself hum in pleasure and he apparently heard it too because he took the kiss deeper, pressing her back, back into the pillows. Her hands reached, found his shoulders and held on. There was a tension in his shoulders. He was holding back, she realized dimly. He touched her only with his mouth, the rest of his body carefully held apart from hers. No pushing, no forcing. Strong, but gentle. The disparity was arousing.

He ended the kiss without really ending it at all, teasing the corners of her mouth with the tip of his tongue, brushing kisses across her cheeks, her chin, her forehead. „You’re a beautiful woman, Kristen,“ he murmured into her ear and she shuddered hard, her hips arching upward, meeting nothing but blanket and air. Tensing, he pulled back until he was sitting in his original position. She opened her eyes to find him staring down at her, his powerful chest rising and falling as he worked to catch his breath.

So
this
is what they mean by sexual tension
, she thought
. I like this
. „How do you do that?“ she asked, her voice rough and husky.

His brows lifted. „Did you like it?“

She felt her cheeks heat and knew she’d bypassed peony pink and gone straight to ruby red. And by the look in his eyes, he didn’t care that her face clashed with her hair. „Yes.“

„Good,“ he said with such satisfaction that she had to smile.

She closed her eyes and screwed up her courage. „You make me want more.“

A full beat passed. Then another. „Good,“ he finally said and this time it was his voice that was rough and husky. His fingertips skimmed her lips. The mattress shifted as he stood up. She opened her eyes and her mouth went dry at the sight of his body in profile.
His chest isn’t the only thing that’s hard
, she thought. And the thought didn’t make her cringe. A mixture of pride and relief rushed through her as he chuckled wryly.

„Thank you,“ he said and she wished she could hide under the bed.

„I said that out loud?“ she asked.

„Afraid so.“ He aimed an amused smile in her direction. „You have to get up now. I have to go by my apartment and change clothes, shower and shave before I take you to work.“

She opened her mouth to say she could drive herself, then glanced at the window. There was pride and there was stupidity and Kristen was not a stupid woman. „Okay.“

Monday, February 23,