The Last Execution (22 page)

“I’ve never asked for favors or special treatment. Don’t assume I’m less of a law enforcement officer because I have a child.”

His gaze hardened. “Nobody gets special treatment when I’m working a murder.”

Leigh had to be honest. “I’m not a permanent part of the team. I assumed her presence was your way of reminding me.”

“You were wrong.”

His expression shifted to pure unadulterated desire when he leaned close.

“Were you jealous?” His breath warm on her cheek.

That he stared at her openly, lustfully, made her squirm in her chair.

“In your dreams.”

“You’re in them frequently. Only one thing would please me more than you in the field with me.”

All the blood ran from her head and flooded her lower belly. Moisture pooled. The only way out was to laugh. “Okay, I’m glad we cleared up my misunderstanding.”

She handed him the folder Romeo had given her.

“What did he find?” J.T.’s eyes sparkled like a kid on Christmas morning.

Leigh cleared her throat, shifting in her chair. No doubt about it, he enjoyed making her uncomfortable.

“Two telephone numbers, one address.”

“That’s all?”

“Which is more than we had.” She scolded him in an effort to get her mind off the heat rushing south. “You want to call or go?”

“Go. Hanging up on me is easy. Slamming the door in my face...not so much.”

“Let’s go.” She bravely accepted his hand when he offered to help her stand. This time she was prepared for the sizzle to shoot up her arm when he wrapped his fingers around hers and stood. She wasn’t prepared for the tenderness when he gently squeezed. His green eyes shimmered, and the solitary dimple flashed fleetingly.

“If I made you unhappy by calling Olivia, I’m sorry. Know this. I’ll never intentionally hurt you.” He released her hand and walked out the door.

“But I’m afraid you will—unintentionally—someday,” Leigh whispered to the empty room.

****

Friday, May 7, 2:00 p.m.

Jason leaned back in his office chair, closed his eyes, and pictured Leigh’s car crashing. Adrenaline rushed through his system, and his cock throbbed inside his slacks. The sensation was better than a double line of coke. He’d only surpass that excitement when he killed that kid and the bitch who sent him to prison.

The bold knock ruined his daydream. He snorted a light hit, dropped the small vial in his pocket before he stood, and shook his pants around his erection on his way to open the door.

His father stormed into the room with fisted hands and teeth clamped shut. “Why was the door locked? I don’t appreciate having to knock like I’m your lackey.”

“Sorry, Dad.” Jason laced his tone of voice with contrition. Daddy needed to be careful. The posturing old fool didn’t intimidate Jason. Tragic accidents happened all the time. Easily arranged. “I didn’t want office gossip started if someone overheard my phone conversation.”

“What conversation?”

Jason’s mind whirred as he searched for a believable lie. “With Morgan.” He was smarter and faster on his feet than the old man had ever been. “No one seems to care my son is being kept from me.”

“Do I need to get involved?”

“No, Dad. You have to let me handle this.”

“Good enough.” He dismissed the topic with a wave of his hand.

“What can I do for you?”

“Your mother wants you to join us this weekend in the Hamptons.”

“Absolutely.” Could life get any easier? With his alibi buttoned down tight, he’d finalize his plans. He had something special in mind. Something to remind Leigh that no matter where she went or who she was with he could get to her. Of course, she’d try to tie it back to him. Soon he’d prove she was a neurotic liar who blamed him for all her bad fortune.

He’d come up with many different ways for her to die. His latest idea made the most sense. The Carrington name and money would get the hearing moved up. After the court ruled in his favor for the paternity test, and the results came back proving he was the father, he’d file for visitation rights. High-strung, unstable Leigh would hang the boy and then herself. Watching them both swing was barely enough payment for the time he’d spent in prison. Jason would watch her horror as the boy’s life left his body. Then he’d watch her legs jerk, tongue swell, and eyes bug out.

****

Friday, May 7, 7:00 p.m.

J.T. stood in his kitchen and spun the swivel seat of the stool around. Jesus Christ. He imagined Leigh opening her thighs, making room for him to get closer. Was it his imagination or had her eyes darkened to a need-you shade of blue? His heartbeat raced to supersonic speeds.

“Oh, hell.” He snatched his cell off the counter and punched in Leigh’s number.

“McBride.”

The professional tone of her voice cooled his overheated imagination. The sound of Ethan’s laughter in the background brought instant regret. J.T. had interrupted something. Had he gone too far? Goddamn, he wanted her. Maybe one taste would be enough. Maybe, she’d turn him down. Maybe, he’d lost his fucking mind.

“Has there been another murder?” she asked.

“No. I was wondering if you’d eaten.” The next few seconds of silence made him wish he could turn back time. Calling her was a mistake.

“We’re fixin’ to wash supper dishes.”

“I see. My bad luck.” He smiled at her use of the Southern slang. He’d made her nervous.

“I haven’t had dessert,” she said on a soft sigh.

The undercurrent in her voice blasted through the line. Heat spread through his belly to the bulge in his pants. “I can pick you up in thirty...no twenty minutes.”

“No. I’m at Mom and Dad’s. I’ll come to you.”

J.T. stared at the cell in his hand. A hot Lamborghini on the open highway would struggle to keep up with the fire racing through his veins. She’d ended the call without giving him a chance to respond, which worked for him. Because he was speechless, his jaw dislodged, and his brain stuck on the word “dessert.”

If she drove fast, she’d be standing in his apartment in thirty minutes. He spun on his heel and conducted a mental survey. Damn, he didn’t own a bottle of wine or have a beer in the fridge to offer her. He scrubbed his hand across the stubble on his chin, a shower and shave were definitely in order.

Halfway down the hall, J.T. stopped dead still. His insides were jumping all over the place. The Iceman, a nickname his Marine friends had given him, was nervous as hell and rightfully so. A relationship with Leigh was an active minefield. He had to be careful where he stepped, or the affair would blow sky high. She could wind up a casualty. He didn’t like the idea of causing her pain.

Almost two hours after his shower, J.T accepted the fact she’d changed her mind. Something between anger and relief stirred under the surface. That she might’ve had an accident nagged at him, but he figured she’d simply come to her senses. He clicked on the TV, found a baseball game, and kicked back in his recliner. Okay, maybe he was pissed. How the hell was he supposed to act tomorrow at the picnic?

At the sound of a knock, he bolted from his chair and hit the TV off button. Without checking the peephole, he opened the door. “I was worried.”

“I should’ve told you I had to go home first.”

His concern for her safety disappeared. In fact, everything including his name disappeared as his eyes feasted on her. She wore a blue dress with tiny straps. No knot tonight, she’d left her hair down. Blonde curls cascaded over her shoulders and down her back.
For me.
A weird pain stabbed his heart. Her blue eyes seemed wider than usual and uneasiness radiated from them.

Leigh’s eyebrows quirked up. “May I come in?”

“Oh. Yeah.” J.T. swung the door wide and ran his hand across his eyes. “My God, you’re stunning.”

She walked straight to his wall of windows and looked out over the city. “I love this view. You live in the perfect location.”

“I like it.” He shut the door and flipped the dead bolt without taking his eyes off her. Her flinch when the lock snapped didn’t escape him. He closed the distance between them and stood behind her, giving himself a minute to breathe in her presence. God, he’d wanted her since the first time he’d laid eyes on her. An image of her silky, bare skin under his hands with her legs wrapped around him never strayed far from his mind.

“I’m glad you’re here.”

“Back to using four-word sentences. I’m nervous enough without you not talking to me.”

“You render me speechless.” He placed his palms on either side of her waist. Soft supple skin yielded to his grip.

She leaned her head back against him. “Still with the four words.”

He slid one hand around to rest on her stomach and smiled at the slight tremor of her muscles. The heat coming from her body raced through him like an electrical storm. She turned and looked up into his eyes. He covered her lush lips with his, slid his tongue inside her mouth to sample her sweet taste. Repeatedly, he dove deep into the wet warmth and drew from her. When her knees buckled, and she leaned into him with a moan, he moved back.

“What would you like me to say? Want me to say you blew my mind by coming here? Or how I was scared shitless you’d changed your mind? Or how I want you more than I want to breathe?

Her breath hitched, and her eyes darkened to that need-you shade of blue. The air around them filled with her scent, rolling through his senses.

“All of the above,” she whispered.

J.T. moved his hands to her ass and lifted her against his erection. She ground her body against him with a moan. He leaned down, his face inches away from hers.

“Kiss me.”

****

Leigh cupped the back of his neck with her hand, pulling his head down. She nipped at the corners of his mouth, breathing in his woody cologne. Tracing the inner edges with the tip of her tongue, reveling in the intense heat coming from his muscular body, she covered his lips with hers.

His grip tightened as he angled his mouth and returned her kiss. Hard and hot. Hungry and fierce. She fought his tongue for dominance, moving her hands to his hips, and pressed him tighter into the juncture between her thighs. She needed more, needed to touch his skin, to feel the fire.

She tore herself away from the kiss and looked into his green eyes, glistening with desire. Swallowing hard, she found her voice. “Show me you’re glad.”

“Hold on.” J.T.’s breath was raspy. He lifted her completely off the floor and headed for his bedroom.

Leigh was barely aware of her shoes hitting the floor. Her dress rode up, leaving nothing except thin lace protecting her hypersensitive skin from the rock-hard ridge inside his jeans. She locked her legs around his hips and dug her fingers into his shoulders. She groaned in pleasure and ground into him, desperate for more. The friction sent shock waves through her body.

“Clothes,” she complained, tugging at his shirt.

He deposited her on the bed, kneeling above her. Clothes were peeled off and tossed aside.

His hungry, predatory eyes seared her naked body. Then his mouth was on her. His hard, muscular frame stretched next to hers, moving, tasting, licking, sending her higher as pressure built inside. She floated on sensation. Arched into him while his hands, large and possessive, touched, caressed, and stroked. Leigh completely surrendered to her body’s frantic needs and cravings. His long fingers blistered a line of heat up her thigh, so near. So close.

“Please.” Leigh wasn’t sure she’d spoken out loud until J.T. pulled his mouth from her breast and pushed himself up on one elbow. His palm rubbed in a circle above her pubic bone.

“Talk to me.” His words were thick and husky with desire. Emerald fire danced in his eyes.

“Touch me.”

“Here?” His hand slipped between her legs.

“Yes,” she cried out in frustration.

His fingers stroked her center. Leigh closed her eyes and lifted her hips in hunger. She whimpered a frenzied plea for more, then stripped her soul bare and asked for what she wanted. “Inside me. Please.”

She felt the momentary loss when his hands left her body. He grabbed a condom from the bedside table, and seconds later, his weight hovered over her. His knee nudged her thighs apart, and he pressed into her. Slowly, further, until she was full, and he’d buried himself inside her. The connection stirred something deeper, something stronger.

“Jesus Christ. Finally.” His gaze bore into hers.

His thrusts, timed and measured, drove her wild. Years of denying herself, refusing to trust, rejecting her emotions and sexuality vanished. She matched his pace until the past disappeared. Only the two of them existed.

Fire streaked through her, pushing her closer to the edge.

“Oh. God.”

“I want it all, Leigh. For me. Come for me.”

His words broke down the last barrier keeping her from coming completely undone. Her world shattered. Pressure rushed from down deep, exploding into pleasure.

****

J.T. dug deep and held himself together until she gave him everything. Her legs tightened around his waist. Her gaze met his, her eyes darkened to midnight blue, and she climaxed. Lost in the heat of her eyes, he ground his hips against her, relishing her release. When she pulsed, clenched around him, and drew him deeper, he lost it. With a groan, he came to the rhythm of her orgasm.