Rising Heat (79 page)

Oh well, I really was roughing it. Drip dry it would be.

I took care of business and then quickly returned to the cabin. I shut the door and then place the two by four into the two wooden slots bolted onto either side of the door frame. That would keep anything out, animal or man, I thought, nodding with satisfaction. I didn’t think Hawk would be arriving much before dusk, so I did step over to the bed, staring down at it for several moments.

The thought of Hawk lying in that bed, naked, warm, so masculine, elicited a myriad of physical as well as mental imaginings. I shook my head and mentally ordered myself to not go there. I would lay down for a bit, rest, and if I was lucky, maybe sleep for a little while. I certainly needed it.

The problem was, every time I shut my eyes I kept seeing those dammed crime scene photos from the folder on Hawk’s desk.

I
must’ve dozed for a while. When I opened my eyes, I looked around for a clock. I shouldn’t have been surprised there wasn’t one. I pulled my cell phone from my back pocket and glanced at it. My battery was half drained. Crap. I should’ve charged it, but all my stuff was in my overnight bag. Hawk would be bringing it with him tonight, but with no electricity I couldn’t charge my phone anyway. Plus, no service, I reminded myself.

I was technologically screwed.

Three o’clock in the afternoon. I think I had dozed for maybe an hour. Thankfully, I hadn’t dreamed. I wasn’t sure what to do with myself until Hawk arrived so I just continued to lay on the bed. Jenny was right. It was more comfortable than I would’ve imagined.

Content to just lay there, I stared at every nook and cranny of Hawk’s cabin within my line of sight. I memorized the pattern of the rug in front of the fireplace that took up most of the middle of the room; a geometric diamond and arrow pattern. Heavy on black, rust, maroon, and gold color schemes, it made me think of the rug in his office. Naturally, that thought brought me to what we had done on that carpet.

Not too surprisingly, I once again began to feel the needling of desire burn deep in my belly. I closed my eyes, remembered the sensitivity and quiet urgency of Hawk’s lips on mine. The feel of his cock in my hand, so smooth on the outside, so hard on the inside.

I remembered the feel of his lips, his fingers, and his thumb as he lavished my body with the warmth of his tongue. Before I knew it, my lower region was throbbing with desire. Soon I felt my nipples tingling with the memory of his warm hands, first cradling the soft flesh of my breasts, and then the exquisite sensations that his thumb circling my nipples elicited. Before I knew it, my nipples had hardened.

I tried to shift my position on the bed, tried to distract myself, but it didn’t help. Oh what the hell. I knew one way I could pass the time, or at least a few minutes’ worth, considering the urgency that was building inside me. Closing my eyes and imagining every touch, sensation, and feeling that Hawk’s body had invoked in me earlier, I didn’t even bother unbuttoning my pants. I simply stuck my hand in between my legs and began to stroke. My hips responded.

As my hips began to rock, I slipped my other hand underneath my T-shirt, then shoved up my bra. I wrapped my fingers around my breast, not only trying to imagine it as Hawk had, but trying to imagine how it would feel to him. Heavy. Solid. I brushed a thumb across my nipple and was surprised at how it tingled. A poor substitute for Hawk’s mouth certainly, but for the relief I craved at this moment, it was enough.

I fantasized. I was lying naked on a bed, my legs splayed and bent, and my arms up on the pillow on either side of my head. Relaxed. Filled with desire and the urge for him to film me completely. I imagined him kneeling, naked on the base of the bed, his cock jutting out at an angle, throbbing with his own desire for me. The tip glistened wetly and occasionally bounced on its own, almost like a divining rod seeking water.

His eyes swept down my body, lingered on my breasts, causing me to instinctively thrust them upward, craving his touch. And then his gaze slowly traveled down my abdomen, to my mound, and then to my lower lips. They throbbed and pulsed with desire. Grew moist with anticipation. And then he was there, nestled between my legs, his cock aimed at my slit. It hovered there for an instant, his head barely touching my opening. Then, with a growl of impatience, he dipped inside with one powerful thrust. He filled me completely. My inner muscles clenched around his cock, wanted to grab hold and never let go.

Our hips began to rock in unison. He balanced his weight on his hands, the only point of contact between us was his cock buried deep inside me. He stared down at our joining as he thrust his hips powerfully. I did the same. And then I looked up at his face, saw his eyes closed, a slight smile turning up the corners of his gorgeous lips. His deltoid muscles were exquisitely delineated, his biceps bulging. His smooth bronze skin glistened with a fine sheen of sweat. His narrow hips pumped in a comfortable rhythm. With every thrust of his hips, I lifted mine from the bed, meeting him.

It didn’t take long for the pace to accelerate. I grabbed at his hair; that luscious, long, silky black hair. I began to gyrate, twisting my hips in a circular motion at the top of every thrust of his cock within me. I tried desperately to pull him deeper, ever deeper. His balls slapped against me as he thrust, and then I was grabbing his buttocks, holding him deep inside and preventing him from pulling out or thrusting back in. I pressed myself deeper onto him, my hips moving rapidly in a circular motion that seemed to elicit a deep sense of pleasure within him, at least as far as I could tell from the noises issuing from his throat.

And then, I felt one of the most powerful orgasms I had ever experienced. My muscles clenched and throbbed so tightly it made me gasp. The rhythm, the waves, the pleasure rushing over me in pulsations swept me over the edge.

I had never been a screamer, but I threw my head back. The sounds coming from deep in my throat startled me. I gasped for breath, my chest rising and falling rapidly with my excited breathing. And then, finally, I opened my eyes. With the last pulsations of my orgasm pulsing through me, I felt a moment of confusion. Hawk wasn’t there.

The cabin. I was alone. Pleasuring myself in lieu of Hawk’s presence. Oh my God, so powerful. So vivid. Just thinking about him drove me crazy.

I lay there for several minutes until my heart rate and my breathing slowed back to normal. I felt a little silly for having indulged in such fantasy, but I wasn’t going to apologize for it. I wasn’t sure what I was going to do about my burgeoning feelings for Hawk. They weren’t just sexual either. I respected him. Admired him. I only knew a little bit about him, but what I did know I liked.

Once again I was confused about my feelings. Were they true feelings or a natural result of the situation I found myself in? If I had met Hawk under any other circumstances… there is no doubt that I would have been sexually attracted to him. What normal, hot-blooded woman wouldn’t be? Perhaps I might have been a bit wary of him, because he was so large and intimidating. But because I had met him in basically a protector role, those thoughts had taken a back seat. The plain truth of the matter was I guess it didn’t really matter what attracted me to Hawk.

But I couldn’t allow myself to get too close.

I had a feeling that might be a losing battle, because at this very moment, I was missing his presence. When he was around I wasn’t afraid. When he wasn’t around, I felt a bit adrift, like a boat that had lost its anchor. Not to the extreme that I couldn’t function or anything like that. Still, in just a matter of days, Hawk had become a very important part of my life. It wasn’t just the fact that he was trying to protect me. That was his job, after all.

Still, I tried to imagine anyone else doing with me what Hawk was doing now, not just the sex part, but in trying to find out who was after me, keeping me safe, even going so far as to involve his family into doing just that. I couldn’t imagine anyone else doing those things for me.

Meeting his mother had left a definite impression on me. I sensed that not only were he and his mother close, but the entire family, no matter how scattered they were, were close knit. I got the impression that they would help each other without even asking why.

Now, besides my sexual attraction, my admiration for Hawk deepened, as did my respect. I didn’t care what kind of trouble he had gotten into in the past. Haven’t we all? Didn’t we all do things that we weren’t particularly proud of? Yes, Hawk might’ve been a bad boy, a reckless one at that, and he was still a little rough around the edges, still a bad boy in regard to our mutual if unprofessional attraction to one another, but that’s what made him who he was.

Allowing my thoughts to wander, I got up from the bed and slowly walked around the cabin, my fingers tracing the logs of the walls, wondering about its history. What had these walls seen over the years, the decades, and the generations? That old saying, if walls could talk, struck me. If these walls could talk indeed.

Jenny told me that Hawk never brought anyone up here, that even family rarely stepped foot on his land, let alone the cabin. I couldn’t help but feel pleased by that. Maybe his feelings for me ran deeper than I thought. Then again, maybe it was just the fact that he couldn’t think of any other place to keep me that might be safer. After all, if my stalker could find me in a motel room, he would probably be able to find me anywhere.

But not here. There was nothing to indicate my presence here. For the first time in days, I felt a sense of relief. I could let down my guard, even if just for a few minutes—

The solid knock on the door startled me. Once. Twice.

I froze, my heart leaping into my throat. Oh my God. Had the stalker actually tracked me here? And would he knock?

Dammit. In high school, I learned about math and where to put commas in a sentence. I could have used a little Self Defense 101 right about now. Or maybe How Not To Pee Yourself When In Danger.

But I was on my own. I took a deep breath and glanced around, eyeing the rifle over the mantle. My knees felt weak, my palms sweaty as I took a few steps in its direction.

“Tracy,” said a voice from the other side.

I nearly collapsed with relief. Hawk. He was earlier than he thought. On shaking legs, I headed for the door, removed the two by four from the slots, rested the board against the wall and swung it open.

And there he was, looking down at me, his black eyes riveted to mine, gazing over my face, my lips, and then down to my toes and back again.

“You okay?”

I glanced around, surprised that I hadn’t heard his Jeep. How had he managed—?

“I parked about a half mile away and walked up here,” he said. “Sorry, I forgot to bring your overnight bag, but you can sleep in one of my old shirts if you want.”

Once again, I felt like he could read my thoughts. “You scared the crap out of me, Hawk,” I said. I stepped back and he entered. I replaced the two by four in place as soon as I closed the door. He eyed it, me, then smiled.

“Have you eaten anything?”

I shook my head. “I’m not that hungry. I did doze off for a little while though.”

“That’s good, you probably need to rest.”

“Your mother is very nice.” With Hawk standing in the room, it suddenly seemed so much smaller, more confined. “Beautiful too.”

“Yes, she is,” he agreed. He walked toward the small table serving as a kitchen table, removed his lightweight jacket and then pulled his wallet from his pocket, placing both on the table.

He said nothing more. I didn’t want to ask or invade his privacy by asking him more about his family, his mother, or even his personal life. I focused once again on the reason for which I was hiding out here. “Anything new?”

He shook his head. “The FBI came down this afternoon, but I’m not sure if they’ll want to interview you.”

“Why not?” I asked, frowning. “Why wouldn’t they want to talk to me? This is happening to me, isn’t it?”

He strode toward the fireplace and began to build a fire although he didn’t light it. He glanced over his shoulder at me. “Sit down, Tracy, there’s something I want to talk to you about.”

“Uh-oh, that doesn’t sound good.” I inhaled a sharp breath. “Oh, please don’t tell me there’s been another murder,” I gasped as I stepped to the bed and sat down on the edge of it. He remained crouching down in front of the fireplace. Shook his head.

“No, thank God, there hasn’t. But I told you I was going to be completely honest with you, and that involves all aspects of the investigation.”

I said nothing and just waited for him to continue.

“I’ll be blunt. Detective Westin doesn’t believe that a serial killer is after you. He still thinks it’s just a stalker—”

Just
a stalker… I loved that. Not. “What about the notes, the cards with the hand-drawn rose with a skull and cross bones in the middle?” I broke in. “Weren’t notes like that found with the other victims?”

He nodded. “Except for the older woman, yes.”

“But—”

Hawk lifted a hand. “Cutter is on the fence. He did get a brief chance to talk to one of the FBI profilers today, and it has been established that while you appear to be the serial killer’s type, at least in regard to hair color and build… you don’t meet one additional similarity of the other two younger women—”

“And what’s that?” I interrupted.

“Engaged or married.”

“What?”

“The one woman was engaged to be married in a week. The other victim had just gotten married two months ago.”

I wanted to feel a surge of relief, but it didn’t come. “Then why is he bothering me if I don’t meet his frickin’
criteria?”
I exclaimed.

Hawk continued. “The debate is whether there actually is a serial killer after you or if you’re the victim of an ardent stalker — one who, somehow, has learned of the drawings and decided to up the ante to get your attention, so to speak.”

I frowned. “Does it really matter? Threats are threats. Do I have to turn up dead for anyone to make a link? There has to be a connection, Hawk.” I paused. “Listen to me. I
don’t
want to be the target of a serial killer. But I have to be prepared for the worst, don’t I? I think the police should too. Cutter and Westin need to get on the same page or what good are they going to do me?”