Blood Money (Bad Money #1) (4 page)

CHAPTER SIX

Kate

Kate took a deep drag of the marijuana, the smell stinging her nose as she breathed in deeply. The bathroom door opened and she turned, still standing in the makeshift kitchen of her apartment naked. Marcus walked out, towel drying himself as he grunted toward her.

"You look good."

"Come get me." She extended the joint and released the breath she had been holding.

He stopped in front of her and took the offering, lifting it to his full lips and sucking on it a few times. His large muscular front lifted with his efforts, his body on full display for her.

Kate reached out and slid her hand down his semi-hard erection as he pressed against her hold.

"Harder, baby. I like it rough."

"I know how you like it," she whispered, licking at her lips as she moved toward him.

He took another long drag as she pressed her tongue to his nipple, her teeth scraping back the sensitive skin as she moved down his body with wet sensual kisses. He reached down and pulled her back up.

"No. Just fucking tonight. I need to be somewhere in a few hours. You can take your time with me next time."

They rarely indulged in oral sex, Kate not one for sharing too much of herself with anyone. Tonight felt different... she needed intimacy after her hard week. Just wasn't in the cards.

She took the joint and nodded. "Then get to it and stop standing around like you're waiting for an invitation. You're cordially invited to turn me into a puddle of sticky nothingness."

He laughed and moved to sit on one of her kitchen chairs and motioned for her to come to him. He took his erection into his grasp and pumped the swollen flesh a few times as she walked toward him. Reaching up and turning her around, he tugged at her hips to sit on him.

Kate reached forward with her free hand and pressed her fingers into the thick muscle of his thigh, groaning loudly as he lifted his hips and impaled her. She rocked against him as he growled, his fingers tightening on her.

"How are you fucking tight every time, Katie? Like your body knows how to make me go crazy with need for you." He lifted her off of him, slamming her back down as he groaned again.

"Stop being sentimental and work me." She lifted the joint to her lips as her thighs contracted, her feet pressing on the floor for traction.

"Hush. Don't tell me how to fuck, woman." He rolled her hips, using her body to stroke his in uneven patterns. His movements kept her guessing, his size causing her to enjoy every deep thrust. She handed the joint back to him and took ownership of their rhythm.

Leaning forward, she pressed her hands to her knees and lifted her ass in the air a little, rolling herself around him and bouncing fast.

"Damn, baby. Most beautiful thing I've seen all week." The sound of him inhaling deeply resounded behind her as the world began to fade. The high was sinking in, the feeling righteous and redeeming. To not care about what was, or what would happen, was bliss. After the horrible few weeks she'd been through, the sex made everything better for the moment.

His thumb slid from where their bodies connected up to press against her other opening. He rubbed his rough thumb over the sensitive spot and leaned forward, licking at her back as she released herself to the ecstasy.

"You want it, Katie?"

"Mmhmmm. Fuck yes."

"Don't tell me. Show me, girl."

Kate tucked her pelvis, slamming down on his cock, his finger buried inside of her now too. She screamed as the room burst into stars, her body twitching as Marcus wrapped his other hand around the back of her neck and forced her up and down. The smell of sex wrapped around her, the violation of her most private parts feeling so far beyond good that depravity suddenly sounded delicious.

"So good," she moaned as a light sweat covered her jerking figure.

"Fuck yes it is. Best pussy in New Orleans. Little ass is begging for me too, Kate." He patted her rear as his finger pumped in and out of her in rhythm with his cock. "Show me why I choose to spend my nights buried in you and not some other girl. Prove it up to me, baby."

"Yeah," she whispered, his words blurring as she arched her back hard and squeezed, tilting her head back and turning enough to place a kiss on his bitter lips. He wrapped a hand around her throat as they fucked, squeezing a little until it was uncomfortable. The high left her with nothing but brilliant sensations, every touch, every murmur, every wicked hard thrust working to break her down.

She moaned against his mouth, another orgasm riding her hard to bring it to life. "I'm going to come again. Deeper."

"I'll come with you, beautiful." He kissed her again and slid his hands to her breasts, turning her and standing them up as he pounded into her over and over again. He tugged hard at her nipples as she buckled, her body lighting on fire from deep inside of her. She screamed his name over and over as he lifted her off the ground with his power. He spilled himself inside of her, not slowing until she begged him too.

Pulling her flush against him, Marcus leaned over and kissed the side of her neck, licking softly at the flesh below her ear. His fingers brushed over her swollen sex, sliding up and down methodically. "Next time I'm not using my thumb. You've been promising for a while now. I want in."

"Next time for sure." She went limp against him, her body humming hard as sweat dripped down her neck and slid between her breasts.

"Let me get you in bed and then I'm out."

"Yeah, get me in bed, you fucker. Lock me in so no one gets me."

"No one's gonna get you. You belong to me. I'd slaughter the city if they touched you."

"Hush." She pulled from him, gaining her bearings for a moment as she licked at her lips. The room spun suddenly and she reached out, grabbing the kitchen counter as Marcus's hands slid around her waist. He picked her up before she knew what was happening and the room faded into darkness before her.

The morning sunlight beat against her tired eyes, Kate turning and hissing as she rolled over. The dull ache between her legs was delicious, the sensation making her want more of Marcus and less responsibility. She laid there for a few minutes, contemplating calling him. He wouldn't answer and she really didn't want to battle him on anal sex again. He was much too big for it and she didn't know if she trusted him simply based on his appetite and tendency to fuck hard and fast.

Not that she was complaining.

"Sex or clean up the bar?"

She looked around the room and chuckled to herself. Obviously cleaning up the bar would have to be the winner. No one to have sex with. Over simulation from toys in her younger years left her swearing them off forever. Never would there be a man able to vibrate like a plastic cock made for quick fun. It was a rip off and left her sex life lukewarm at best.

She got up, groaning loudly before making her way to the shower. A quick hot blast of hot soapy water and she was feeling good and whole again.

"What about the note?"

She glanced at her dresser, the mysterious message sitting in the small heart-shaped box. No time to think about it now. It might not have even been from Adam. She had worked a full shift in the bar that night too. Anyone could have slipped something in her jeans. Adam's brother wasn't even named Jon, was he?

She worked a tight pair of jeans over her hips and pulled a tiny white tank top over her bright pink bra. No one would see her, so the bra almost felt like an unneeded restriction. She slipped her black sliders on and picked up her brush, unlocking the front door and jogging down the stairs as she ran the brush through her hair. The club looked clean other than the lingering smell of sweat. They were closed on Sundays, so she usually spent most of it cleaning up and sleeping.

Kate made quick work of opening up all of the windows, the bars on the front of all of them not allowing for anything but air to get through. The breeze picked up and moved around her as she paused, closing her eyes and exhaling slowly. Sex with Marcus the night before had been spot on. She needed a release and he was brilliant in bed.

She walked to the back of the club, pulling her key from her pocket and unlocking the hallway to the offices and store rooms. She propped the door open and walked down the long dark hall, turning on lights as she did. It was stuffy back there, but the liquor needed a cool place to rest, so with no cellar, what she had worked perfectly.

She paused at the door to the inventory room, turning on the light and looking around at the boxes and various bottles. Her and Marcus had checked out everything the weekend before and ordered a large shipment for the crazy week coming up. A million or more people would hit Bourbon Street for Mardi Gras. It was the time of the year she hated most. Having to get extra security and deal with the punk ass drunkards that would show up was aggravating and time consuming.

Kate turned and walked toward the back door. She hadn't been back in the alley since the night Adam died. She needed to slip out there to see if there was anything the cops had missed. Not that she was a detective or knew what the fuck she was looking for, but someone had slipped that cryptic-ass note in her pocket. If it was Adam, did he leave something else?

She popped the lock on the back door, walking out and shielding her eyes as the noonday sun beat down into the alley. A soft yelp left her as a large man rose from a squatting position and turned toward her.

Short dark hair, deep blue eyes and lips that demanded attention took her breath. His cheeks and chin were dusted in black hair, forming a well-manicured goatee. It was fitting and made him masculine and beautiful all in the same moment. She smiled and extended her hand.

"I'm sorry. You scared me. I'm Kate. Can I help you with something?"

He reached out and shook her hand, his eyes narrowing slightly, his grip a little too tight. "Nice to meet you, Kate."

Fear rushed from the pit of her stomach to her chest. His voice said he already knew her and it wasn't something he would brag about. His light blue t-shirt was fitted, long hours in the gym the result of the hard body under the soft cotton. His jeans hung low on his hips, his posture relaxed and yet screaming of military or cop. It was just the prideful way those guys carried themselves. He was definitely one of them.

"You didn't answer my question."

"Did you ask one?" His voice was low and almost ominous, his eyes moving across her face, but going no lower. Definitely a cop. Something about him tugged at her hard.

"What is it that I can do for you, or what is it exactly that you're doing back here?" She let the friendliness fade from her voice. If he was there to ask questions, he would need to produce a badge and soon.

She let her eyes scan across the handsome planes of his face, his appearance mature and yet young enough for her to place him in his thirties at most. He was sexy by all standards and seemed like the kind of guy most women would be attracted to, but something dark and deadly lay just below the surface of his demeanor. She'd been around too many killers, drug dealers and psychos not to be able to quickly discern that she was now in the presence of another. He looked so much like... Adam.

"Fuck," she whispered just as he started to respond.

His eyebrow lifted as a smirk tugged at his mouth. "I'm good, but thanks."

She scoffed and walked toward the door of the bar. "I wasn't offering. Don't flatter yourself. Get the hell out of my alleyway or I'll call the cops. I'm not interested in whatever you're selling mister."

"No need to. I'm a detective." He pulled out his badge and walked toward her. "I'm Jon Peterson. It was my brother you killed."

CHAPTER SEVEN

Jon

Damn if she wasn't every bit as gorgeous in person as she was in the photo, even more so. He swallowed desire as it rose in his chest, his body wanting to react to her almost immediately. He cursed himself, pissed that he was responding like a junior high boy with a crush on the school librarian.

He walked toward her and held out his badge, his confession to being Adam's brother never part of the conversation he had let play over and over in his head as he walked through the alley looking for clues most of the morning. He found nothing but darkened blood and bad memories.

His brother was the victim of a blood money run. The question was whose run was it. Kate's or the man she sold for?

"Adam's brother. I assumed you'd look a little nerdier. No pocket protector or tie?" She shrugged as if completely uninterested in him and turned to walk back into the club.

He moved in and held the door, stopping and watching the sway of her small hips. The jeans she wore were beautifully revealing, her ass tight and pert. He exhaled softly. He needed to pull it together. She looked like she was Hispanic or Italian, the creamy caramel-color of her skin adding to his attraction to her. Long hair brushed by her upper back, the strands appearing wet. The pink bra she wore bled through the small white tank top, her mid drift on display, but he tried hard not to notice.

"I'm coming in. I have some questions for you."

"Good." She looked over her shoulder, her expression screaming dominance. "I have some for you too."

He walked quietly behind her, keeping his distance. He wasn't far enough due to the fact that the air smelled like strawberries, clean and fruity. It must have been her body wash. He closed his eyes, the visual of her wet little body brushing along his mind, her hands soapy and sliding all over her.

What the fuck is the matter with you? 

It was like Seth had crawled into his head and done a number on him. He needed to get laid and soon. She was everything he wanted beneath him on a cold night and trying to remain focused was going to prove to be challenging.

Running his fingers through his short hair, he walked out onto the club floor behind her. She turned and pinned him with another stare, Jon unable to tell if she was flirting or angry. She was more woman than he had encountered in a while. She might actually be capable of murder. He wouldn't be surprised. Not after all he had encountered in his short life.

Kate moved behind the bar, picking up a white terrycloth towel. "You first of course. Ask away and anything my lawyer would be good with me answering, I will."

"Who owns the bar?" He knew the answer, but wanted to start simple. See how truthful she could be in the small things.

"I am the owner." Her voice was strong and confident, the sex kitten he almost imagined her to be, gone. This was more the woman he could see pulling out a gun and laying waste to his brother.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a pad of paper before nodding to the barstool next to him. "Mind if I sit down?"

"Help yourself."

He slid onto the seat and pressed his forearms against the wood, his eyes moving across her pretty features. She was model material, the perfect pin-up for all the boys to groan and lose their loads to. Chances are she knew that good and well.

"How long have you owned the bar?"

"Couple of years. Gift from my old man."

"Thought you were a run-away."

"I was. My stepfather watched me sleep every night and licked his lips every time I walked in the room when I was a girl. I left before he could touch me. It was just a matter of time." She shrugged as if her heart-breaking story were simply a fact of life. "Marcus found my biological father about three years ago. The old man pulled me off the street and gave me and Marcus a place to work."

"Marcus is?"

"My dad passed not long after that and the deed to the place went in my name." She picked up another towel and started drying glasses, steam lifting in front of her and somehow making her appear more ethereal.

"Marcus is?"

"He's my partner."

"Your boyfriend?"

"That's none of your business nor does it have anything to do with why you're here. Stick to the script. I have lots to do today and I've been acquitted. Unless there is new evidence..." Her voice dropped off as a smirk lifted Jon's lips. Pretty, ballsy and smart.

"The DNA came back with yours and Adam's blood mixed together. Your gun wasn't used, but the murder weapon hasn't been found yet. Your story seems to be consistent, but I'd like to hear it again."

"Don't you have a partner you should be working on this case with?"

"Why do you ask?"

"Because it seems odd that you would be working on it alone."

"His name’s Seth and he's too much of a pretty boy to be involved in things this dark and tainted." Jon shrugged, enjoying the expression on her face more than he should.

"Sounds hot." She smirked and turned the conversation. "The murder weapon wasn't found because it's still tucked in the back of the mother fucker who did its pants. Find him and you'll find the weapon."

"Give me details."

"He was your brother. You want to hear how I held him as he died? How he didn't have a life before that because your parents were assholes? How about that? That what you came for officer?"

"I haven't ruled out anything yet, Miss Jarret. You're still very much a suspect and the only one with the victim when he bled out. Play your games, but it will be me who is your judge and jury."

She tilted her head to the side, her hair covering her shoulder as her eyes narrowed. His body hardened as she glared at him. What was it with this woman?

"Do you think by referring to Adam as 'the victim' that you can stay clearheaded in finding his murderer?"

"Did you kill my brother, Miss Jarret?"

"It's Kate and of course not. He was a friend of mine."

"Then tell me what happened that night." Jon put his pen down, leaning in and watching the bombshell closely.

"She's already given her statement to the cops. Pull the record and stop wasting your time and hers." Marcus's voice sounded by the back door, the large man walking in and heading toward the bar.

He was quite a bit bigger than Jon, but he didn't flinch or respond other than looking back over his shoulder.

"Marcus the partner boyfriend, I suppose?" Jon called out to the other man, his impression of the giant less than positive. The big guy was a thug. The teardrop tattoos under his right eye screamed of gang activity, his size of steroids.

"Who I am is irrelevant. I was in the club with a million alibis and Kate's story checks out. So... get out." Marcus moved to stand beside Jon, the look on his face a serious warning. Jon pretended not to notice.

"The lady let me in and until she tells me to leave, I'm not." Jon looked up at him as if Marcus was a fifteen-year-old kid bitching about a hangnail.

"Marcus, it's okay. Let me just answer his questions and then he'll go."

Jon looked over at Kate as he tapped his pen on the wooden tabletop before him. "The lady is right. I'm not trying to mess up your Sunday afternoon. Just trying to do my job."

"Are you new on the case because your questions are old and tired. They have a file of all the shit they asked."

Jon turned to the behemoth and looked up at him. "Us cops, the good guys, ask all sorts of repeat questions. It's to catch you criminals, the bad guys, in your lies."

Marcus laughed and looked at Kate. "Holler if this prick gets on your nerves. I'm happy to throw his ass out."

"Will do." Kate leaned over, her gaze locking on Jon's as he worked hard not to take her in. The bright pink of her bra called to him as her shirt opened. He looked back down at the pad of paper, the visual of her breast the only thing on his mind for a few seconds. He was so assured that she was the killer and now she flashes a little tit and smiles a few times and he's not? Kate started talking again.

"I had a feeling that something was off. I don't know how to explain it, so don't ask me to. I went out back, Adam was beating on the door. I went out and pulled my gun, making sure there wasn't anyone but him in the alley. He fell and I caught him, going down with him. I called 9-1-1 and tried to stop the bleeding. He was hit five times in the chest and there was nothing I could do." She glanced down as Jon looked up at her, the sadness on her features not hidden well. She let out a shaky breath and looked up. "He was a good kid and got into some really bad shit. Drugs are everything in the world he was playing in. He fucked with the wrong guys and I would assume didn't pay them back. We didn't talk about it."

"When was the last time you saw him before the other night?"

"A year ago I guess? I got cleaned up a few years back, but some of my friends are still deep in that shit." She reached up and ran her fingers through her wet locks, her breasts rising with her efforts. His eyes moved down, the faint line of her hardened nipple tearing his focus down quickly.

"Are you doing drugs now, Miss Jarret?"

"It's Kate and no. I smoke weed as much as the next guy, but nothing more damning. I'm not a part of that life anymore. I can't be. It takes too much of your soul away."

Jon sat back, his curiosity getting the better of him. "Did you ever sleep with my brother?"

"What? No. What does that have to do with anything?"

"Just trying to establish the relationship between the two of you. You react like he meant something to you and yet you guys hadn't seen each other in a few years? Seems odd."

"He was a kid and we were friends." She leaned forward, her hard stare more attractive than intimidating. "When is the last time you saw him?"

"I'm not on trial for murder. You are."

"I'm not on trial. I've been released from this."

"Not exactly. The evidence at present shows that it's less than likely that you pulled the trigger. My job as an investigator is to determine if you're going to be brought up once again on assisting in first degree manslaughter charges. Your history screams that you’re guilty, that you are the same trash now that you were back then."

"Once a criminal, always a criminal?"

"If the shoe fits..."

She laughed and turned to walk around the bar, her voice losing all warmth. "Good day, cop. Go pull your judge and jury card somewhere else. I've given all I'm giving to you. Perhaps as Adam's brother you should start thinking outside of the box and looking for clues that he left just for you. Oh wait... you're too busy condemning innocent people. See yourself out. I have things to do."

Jon watched her go, the soft sway of her hips only outdone by the stiffening of her shoulders. She hated her past. That much was apparent. Good. Maybe she wasn't the same riff-raff that he thought she might turn out to be. He got up and tucked his notepad in his pocket, walking behind her as she made a turn into one of the rooms down the hall. He moved past it in time to see Marcus wrap his arms around the beautiful woman, the large giant devouring her mouth much to Jon's displeasure.

Of course they were together. It only made sense that they would be.

He pushed the door open, something inside of him roaring to life. He didn't like her with Marcus and wanted to go back in the club and put his foot in the dude's crotch.

"What's wrong with me?" he grumbled to himself as he walked down the alley, the sun warming his face and arms. She had been right in her accusation, as much as the preacher had.

"God didn't make you judge over the world. He is the supreme redeemer and he alone will judge each of us. You have no place or right to impose your subjugation of those around you. You deserve death for your sins as do the rest of us."

"What sins are you hiding, Kate Jarret?"