Designed for Murder (Killer Style) (10 page)

Tony sighed into the phone. “How much time do you need to prove it?”

Carlos fist-pumped the air. “Forty-eight hours.”

“You have twenty-four. And ’Los?”

“Yeah?” A sudden uncertainty formed a concrete brick in his intestines.

“There’s a lot riding on this case. Don’t fuck it up.”

Carlos popped his knuckles as he paced Mika’s design studio. He had fucked up the case. He’d fucked it up royally. All he wanted was to forget, but he couldn’t. Not with Magic Battledome reminders taunting him every time he turned around. Especially not with Mika. Being with her cracked open the closet door he’d shut on everything Ivy-related, and now it was all rushing out. He closed his eyes and was back in Ivy’s apartment.

Ivy sauntered in and flopped down beside him on the couch and handed him a Red Bull. “I promise I didn’t poison the drink. Much.”

He took a swig of the liquid, gulping it down without even tasting it.

Ivy snagged her laptop from the coffee table. The program tasked with finding the stalker troll’s proxy server identification continued to roll through the options. “How about some Magic Battledome? Imagine how effective we’d be when we’re in the same room for once.”

How could he say no to that? “Sure, but I need to use your laptop.”

“You trying to mess with my mojo?”

He chuckled. Gamers were as superstitious as baseball players. A change in equipment was not undertaken lightly. “Nah, I just have to monitor the proxy program.”

Ivy twisted her mouth and handed over her laptop before grabbing his and settling back. “I say we go for the Dyrnwyn.”

His pulse quickened. “The blazing sword?”

The legendary sword was the most-coveted treasure in Magic Battledome and had never been captured. Any player could storm White Hilt castle and claim the prize. The catch? Only one player—supposedly chosen by a complex, secret algorithm—could ever claim the Dyrnwyn and live to play another day. When anyone else touched the sword, white flames engulfed it, eating their way up the player’s arm and destroying him.

“It’s suicide.” Not to mention he’d never play with Scarlett again.

She clicked on her on-screen tool belt. “Not if you have Rhiannon’s gold silk brocade.”

A golden cape enlarged on her screen, glimmering in the CGI animated sunlight.

“It’s only a theory that the cape would protect you,” he said.

“It’ll work.”

“How do you know?”

“Going with my gut.” She winked at him. “Drink up, Zephyr. Adventure awaits.”

He downed the rest of the Red Bull. With no need for headsets to talk to each other, they dove into the world of Magic Battledome. The castle stood dark and gloomy against the bright CGI blue sky.

“The front door’s open.”

“Of course.” He snorted. “No one but us is crazy enough to try a stunt like this.”

He rushed into the castle. The sword lay on a thirty-foot-long oak table, illuminated by the skylight above.

Blood rushed in his ears and his suddenly sweaty fingers slipped on the controls.

His vision turned blurry.

Once he grasped the sword, the game wouldn’t allow him to let go. Holding his breath, he wrapped his fingers around its silver hilt and lifted it into the air. “Dyrnwyn, I make my claim.” White fire cascaded up the blade like a raging river. In a blink it covered his hand. “Scarlett, the cape.” His fingertips tingled as he fumbled with the controls.

His ever-loyal battle partner stood outside of his reach as the flames crawled up his arm. She made no move to toss the cape over him.

The cotton of his T-shirt clung to his sweat-covered back and his breaths came in shallow gasps as he tried to understand what was happening.

The proxy program binged and automatically opened a window on his screen. Though covered in data that wavered in his blurry vision, two words came through with clarity. Ivy Rhodes. No one else had set up the proxy server. She’d done it herself to confuse her trail. She was the stalker.

The laptop slid from his grasp, landing with a
thunk
on the floor. In the next heartbeat, he did the same.

The last thing he saw was Zephyr onscreen engulfed in white flames from head to toe before exploding into nothing. Then the world went black.

He blinked away the memory and Mika’s studio came back into focus.

“Carlos.” Mika brushed her palm down his cheek, bringing him back to the here and now. “You don’t have to tell me. It’s okay.”

He pulled away from her touch. She didn’t even know the worst of it. “She fooled me. I thought we were on the same side in real life, just like in Magic Battledome, but we weren’t. She drugged me and almost killed Sylvie and Tony.” Blood rushed in his ears and his chest tightened, but he had to tell her. He had to show her who he really was. “I found the three of them at the Harbor City Museum. Ivy was going to shoot them, but I fired first. She was dead before she even hit the floor. I killed my girlfriend, just like Keenan killed your sister. I’m as bad as he is.”

And he’d put as much distance between that guy and the new Carlos as he could, giving up any part of his life that Ivy had tainted as his penance for being so blind to the truth and nearly getting his friends killed. His life had become perfectly divided into before and after Ivy. But it hadn’t been enough. It would never be enough to pay for his sins.

“No.” Mika took his face between her palms, forcing him to look at her. “I’m sorry that happened to you, and I totally understand why you’ve turned your back on Magic Battledome. Taking this case couldn’t have been easy. But you’re not Keenan, and I’m not Ivy. Not everyone out there is Ivy. You have to learn to trust people again—to trust yourself again.”

It would be so easy to follow his impulses and sink into Mika’s warmth, block out his own failings. Isn’t that what he’d been doing for the past year—trying to forget? It hadn’t worked. It never would. This was the life he’d chosen when he’d fired that bullet, and he needed to stop being such a wimp and accept that.

“It doesn’t matter.” He stepped out of her grasp, hardening himself against the hurt that flashed in her eyes. “No matter how badly I want you, when this case is over, we’ll go our separate ways. I’ll never get to touch you again.”

She scraped her teeth across her bottom lip, then looked up at him through her thick lashes. “And you want to?”

Heat seared his skin and he shoved his hands in his pockets to stop himself from reaching out to touch her smooth skin. “So much that it took everything I had not to dropkick Captain Douchetastic this afternoon.”

Her hands went to the top button of her jeans, and she slipped it free before pushing them down over her round hips. Gravity pulled them down her lean legs, and she stepped out of the puddle of denim. Standing before him in just her T-shirt and low-slung hip-hugger panties, she raised her chin. There was no mistaking the hunger—the need—in her eyes, because it burned in his own.

She toyed with the hem of her shirt. “Then you’d better touch me while you can.”

A better man would resist. A better man would walk away. But Carlos wasn’t a better man.

Chapter Eleven

“The prettiest dresses are worn to be taken off.”

—Jean Cocteau

I
f
there was a chill in the air, Mika couldn’t feel it. Hot desire licked at her skin everywhere Carlos looked as his focus traveled across her nearly naked body. Never had a plain white T-shirt made her feel as sexy as right now. Under his hot gaze, her nipples pebbled under the thin material and dampness grew between her legs. He wasn’t like Keenan. What had happened with Ivy had shredded but hadn’t broken him. If it had, he wouldn’t be here with her, making her want tomorrows instead of just tonights. She couldn’t convince him of that with words, but her body knew a language her tongue couldn’t form.

“You’re impossible to resist.” He grabbed her hips, whipping her around so her back was against the windowpane.

She was between a glass wall and a hard man—one who, despite all the reasons why she shouldn’t have, she’d fallen for. No one had ever just gotten her like he did. He was the one; she’d known it the moment he’d touched her on the nonexistent dance floor at Feeny’s.

Carlos’s eyes darkened to nearly black as he watched her—not touching anywhere but his fingers on her hips, but the intensity of his gaze branded her, marked her as his. The air sizzled between them, and she forgot how to breathe, how to think, how to do anything but want this man. Her man. Carlos.

Her breath hitched as she fought to control the lust lapping against her as palpable as the air on a hot summer day when there was 90 percent humidity. “So why try to resist me?”

He laughed, a low rumble that did something to weaken her knees, and he twisted his fingers around the simple cotton of her panties, drawing them tight against her wet core. “Is this how you do everything in life, just give in to the impulse?”

“Yes.” It was an answer to his question and approval of how the material pressed against her clit.

He bent his head and kissed his way down her neck, stopping and taking a soft bite at the sweet spot where it met her shoulder. “That’s insane.”

“Why? Because it’s not how you do it? I’m comfortable with who I am and who I want.” She slid her hand between the rough denim of his jeans and the springy curls of his happy trail until she could wrap her fingers around his thick cock. “It sure feels like you are, too—at least right now.”

“That’s all I can give you.”

The fit was tight, but there was just enough room for her to stroke him up and down. He let out a tortured groan.

“Maybe it’s all I want.” At least it had been only a few days ago. Now? She couldn’t think about it. It was like seeing a glint in the distance and knowing it was something you needed, even if you weren’t sure what exactly it was.

“How do you want it?” He followed the
V
of her thin T-shirt, then continued down and sucked her hard nipples through the material, grazing his teeth across the sensitive peak. He twisted his fingers to tighten his hold on her panties, then crossed to her other breast and teased her until she was panting with need—only then did he pull back. “I could tear these panties off you, bend you over that ugly couch, and fuck you until you can’t remember your name.”

Her core clenched. “Big talk.”

The sound of ripping material filled her ears, followed by the shift in the air between her legs as the material fell away.

“Oh, it’s more than just talk.” He flipped her around so her breasts pressed against the window with only the T-shirt covering her. The cotton covering her nipples, wet from his mouth, was trapped between the cool pane and her sensitive flesh, and the damp chill made her nipples even harder.

Up on the tenth floor, no one could clearly see her from the busy sidewalk below, and being the fashion district, there weren’t residential apartments with nosy neighbors staring out the window. Still, the T-shirt’s hem stopped right at her slick folds, wet for him, and he’d barely touched her. God, he did something to her. She’d thought she’d tried everything, but with him it was different. A frisson of excitement tinged with fear made her shiver against the glass.

Carlos lifted her shirt in the back and smoothed his palms over her bare ass. “Spread your legs for me,
mi cielo
.”

The growl in his voice put his words right over the line from request to demand, laced with sensual promise that she knew he could deliver. Still. Where was the fun in giving in so easily? Her ripped panties might be on the floor, but she was anything but powerless in this situation.

She undulated her body with deadly slowness, gliding her bare ass over the rock-hard outline of his cock, pushing against his inseam. “I thought you wanted to fuck me over the back of the couch.”

“So impatient.” He smacked her ass just hard enough to send a delicious shiver across her skin. “First I’m going to play. I’m going to make you so hot and so wet that you’ll come just from the lightest touch to that pretty clit of yours.” He slid his hands between the window and her body, cupping her breasts and filling his hands with them. Then he pressed hard against her from behind, rubbing against her. His tongue traced a line behind her ear and made her moan out loud. “Spread your legs,
mi cielo
.”

Excitement pulsed through her body, making her thighs shake as she did as he asked.

He smoothed his hands down her belly—his long fingers coming so close to her cleft—and around her hips to her ass. He squeezed the globes in his hands and parted the cheeks, spreading her wide. “Tell me what you want.”

“Touch me.” If he didn’t, she was going to implode. Control wasn’t in her wheelhouse anymore, if it ever had been when it came to Carlos.

“Where?” His thumb traveled down the crack of her ass with tortuous slowness, pausing to brush against her asshole. “Here?” He circled the hole with excruciating leisure. “That’s it,
mi cielo
, arch your back for me; show me how much you want it.”

She did, arching it so sharply that her spine protested, but not enough to override the pleasure of his thumb against the sensitive nerves. It wasn’t the same sensation as when he stroked her clit, but it started a yearning deep in her core that couldn’t be ignored.

“Yes. That’s it.” He rubbed against her, his sexy voice touching her just as much as his thumb.

Desire curled into a fully charged ball in her core, sending out flares of pleasure that electrified her. She couldn’t take it. His movements focused all of the sensation into that one spot, centralizing her pleasure but not allowing it to build past a certain point. He kept her right on that edge of ecstasy.

“Carlos.” She barely recognized her own voice, it was so strangled with yearning.

“Yes,
mi cielo
?” He tapped against her edges in an alternating slow/fast beat.

“I can’t take it.” It was too much, but she needed more.

“What do you need?” His words brushed across her hole, adding another sensation that had her overcharged body.

“Lick me.”

For a breath, there was nothing. Then the air shifted behind her and his soft tongue touched her, gliding over her hole. Up and down and around, he flicked his tongue against her asshole, teasing and tempting and treating her all at the same time. Her knees almost buckled as sensation washed over her and she mewled in pleasure.

“I love it when you make that sound.” He followed the curve of her ass with his tongue, leaving a wet line of fire in its wake. “Bend over so your hands touch the floor.”

She had to take a few steps back to do so, making sure to rub her ass against his hard, denim-covered bulge. He groaned, the sound pushing her on, and she bent over, pressing her palms against the floor. Her T-shirt fell over her face, the thin material letting in some of the fading sunset streaming in through the window but blocking out her ability to see exactly what he was going to do next.

“
Mi cielo
, you have the prettiest pussy I have ever seen. It’s so soft and wet for me.” The sound of his zipper being lowered filled the room. “You have made my dick so hard, and I can’t wait to slide inside you. Do you want that?”

“Fuck yes.” Blood rushed in her ears, partly from the position and partly from how his dirty talk was turning her on.

“You’ll get it,
mi cielo
.” Lust had deepened his voice and strengthened his Spanish accent, sending a shiver down her thighs.

Waiting, she maintained the position, the accidental blindfold of her shirt blocking her from being able to see what he was doing. The only thing she could hear was the sound of her shaky breaths. All she could feel was his strong hand gliding over her lower back, ass, and thighs—coming close but never actually touching her aching center. It was agony—pure, blissful torture. Everything—her whole world—centered around the parts of her body he touched and the
one
he wouldn’t.

“Please,” she begged, too far gone to care about how needy she sounded.

He pressed something against her slick folds. It was hot and hard and thick. Oh God yes, it was his cock. He rubbed the head against her, stroking up on one side of her opening and down on the other. Then he pressed forward so his shaft rocked against her core but never dived inside. It was too much and not enough at the same time.

She needed more. She needed him. “Fuck me, Carlos.”

“Oh, you know I will.” He pulled away. “But not yet.”

She stood up quickly. Too quickly. The blood rushed from her head, and she had to hold on to his shoulder until the dizziness passed. “How long are you going to tease me?”

“Until you can’t take it anymore.”

“Then you should know…” She pressed hard against his shoulder, pushing him until his ass hit the back of the couch. “Turnabout is fair play. Strip.”

T
he response on the tip of Carlos’s tongue died before he could utter the words, because Mika yanked the hem of her T-shi
rt and pulled it over her head. She stood, legs shoulder-width apart and hands on her hips, and turned half in profile before him. The last rays of sunlight coming in through the windows outlined her delectable body. The golden light highlighted the curve of her hip, the rounding of her tits, the lift of her chin, and the arch of her back.

“This isn’t going to work well if I’m the only one naked.” She marched toward him, her tits jiggling with each step, hypnotizing him. “So get your clothes off before I repay you for what you did to my panties.”

“I’ll buy new ones.”

“I don’t want new underwear.” She ran her hands down his chest, her touch so hot he was surprised his shirt didn’t burst into flame under her fingers. “I want you.”

It was the one thing they always agreed on. This connection. This need. This thing drawing them together that he couldn’t ignore no matter how much he knew he should. Mika might think he wasn’t guilty, but he was. The blood would never wash off his hands. Tonight was a reprieve, but it wouldn’t last. Sinners could get a taste of heaven, yes, but they weren’t allowed to stay.

“
Mi cielo
.” And he meant it. She was his heaven.

He pulled his shirt off, grabbed a condom from his wallet, and shucked off his jeans.

“Let me.” She snatched the foil square from his grasp and stepped between his splayed legs as he half sat, half leaned against the back of the couch. The gleam in her eyes told him that she wasn’t going to be quick about it so he could sink into her warmth.

“Mika,” he groaned.

She
tsk-tsk
ed. “Oh no. You don’t get to tease me without expecting to at least get a little some of that back.”

“What do you think you can do?”

“A lot.” She sank down to her knees, keeping her fingers spread wide on his thighs.

The contrast of her small, pale hands against his dark, hairy thighs made him catch his breath, but then her pink tongue lapped up the pre-come on the tip of his dick, and he couldn’t do anything but surrender to the temptation she offered.

She swallowed his cock, taking it deep, her hot mouth holding him tight. With her lips locked around the base, she licked the underside of his cock as she moved her head back. The cool air fought with the sensation of her tongue swirling around his still-warm head. She cupped his balls, her short nails grazing him as she extended her middle finger. Engulfing him again, she pressed against the spot right behind his balls and increased the suction of her mouth. His balls tightened. Teasing her had been blissful torment for him as well, priming him so that he wouldn’t be able to hold back if she kept this up.

“Enough.” The word tore from his throat.

She released his cock but kept her grip on his balls. “You don’t like?”

“You know better than that,” he growled. “Either put that condom on my dick or give it to me.”

For a second she sat immobile, no doubt weighing whether she had already pushed him as far as he could go for one night.

He gathered her long hair in one hand and wound it around his fist. He tethered her to him and pulled so she had to look up at him. “Make up your mind or I’ll make it up for you.”

“Oh really?” She stood up, her hair slipping through his fingers like silk.

From his leaning position, the move put her perfect tits on level with his mouth. He wasn’t about to ignore the unspoken invitation. He sucked one nipple into his mouth and pinched the other one between his thumb and pointer finger, pulling it taut. She moaned her pleasure. Yes. This was what he wanted. To make her forget everything but them, to make her want more than she knew she wanted, and to show her how she laid him low by taking him high.

He slipped two fingers between her soft and wet center and scraped his teeth across her stiff peak in his mouth. When she let her head fall back and sank her fingers into his hair, pushing more of her warm flesh into his mouth, he pressed the pads of his fingers against the bundle of nerves just inside her entrance. She shivered in his arms.

He pulled away from her succulent tits, leaning back so he could watch the desire play across her beautiful face. “Yeah, that’s right,
mi cielo
.” He found her clit with his thumb, but rather than circle it, he pressed down with a firm touch right underneath the nub. “You’re going to come all over my hand, and then I’m going to make you come again and again until you are spent—and you’re still going to be hungry for more, aren’t you?”