The Negotiator (25 page)

The thought brought a smile to his lips and he glanced at the clock on the wall of the squad room and sighed. He still had another seven hours to go before he could turn his car for home. Home to Cally. Home to Jack.

Frowning slightly, he remembered he hadn’t asked her if she’d seen any more of the blue Toyota and whether it was still concerning her. He reached for his phone and then paused. It was late…but she’d told him she was a night owl. Besides, he wanted to hear her voice.

Coming to a decision, he picked up his phone and keyed in the number of her cell. The call went straight to message bank. He grimaced. It was either switched off or the battery was dead. Neither scenario was comforting. Scrolling back through his contacts, he found her home number and pressed the button to call. His heart beat in anticipation. This time, she answered.

“Hello?”

He cleared his throat of the emotion that threatened to choke him. The sound of her voice again, after such a tumultuous evening, was suddenly more than he could take.

“Hello?” she repeated, this time more cautiously.

He swallowed and cursed silently under his breath, forgetting for a moment she didn’t have call display. It wasn’t his intention to frighten her. “Cally, it’s Andy,” he said hurriedly.

“Andy! How are you? Is everything all right?” She sounded surprised, as if she hadn’t expected to hear from him. He could understand her reaction. He’d never called her from work before.

“I’m fine.” He closed his eyes and relaxed back into his chair. “Just tired. I’ve had about enough of the day, but I still have more than half of my shift to go. I thought I’d call you and kill some time; take my mind off things.”

“Of course, I’m glad you did. I’ve been thinking about you all night.”

His gut tightened in immediate response and blood flowed to his groin. He grimaced at his body’s uncontrollable reaction and determinably pushed the erotic thoughts aside. He was sure she was referring to the incident with Nikki, not about having wild fantasies about him.

“How are you doing? How is Tom?” she asked quietly.

“I’m okay. Tom’s good, too. He’s been doing this a lot longer than I have. Tom was the one up there tonight and yet he was offering
me
comfort. He’s a remarkable bloke, Tom Munro. I’m proud to serve beside him.” His throat tightened on a surge of emotion and he swallowed hard.

“I’m glad you’re both doing okay.” She hesitated. “I was worried about you.”

Warmth spread through him at the concern in her voice. It had been years since anyone had worried about him. It felt good. It felt like something he wanted to get used to.

“Thanks, I appreciate your concern. It’s nice to know you care.”

A silence fell between them. Andy waited for her to break it. When the moments dragged on, he forced his tone lighter and steered the conversation away to safer territory. “What’s wrong with your cell? It went straight to voice mail.”

“Oh, it’s probably flat. I forgot to put it on the charger.”

He groaned. “Cally, you know it doesn’t work if the battery’s flat. I bought it for you to use in an emergency. What happens if you’re out on the road somewhere and need to call?”

“You’re right. I’ll put it on the charger right now.”

“Good,” he said, feeling slightly reassured and then he remembered what triggered his call. “Have you seen anything more of the Camry?”

“No, I haven’t.” She sounded relieved. “Maybe I was wrong about him.”

“Let’s hope so.” The thought of someone hanging around her house, hidden among the dense foliage and vines she called a garden, made him nervous. “Just make sure you call the police if you see him again. You have the plate number. They can run that through their system and at least identify the owner of the car. If he turns up near your house again, they’ll certainly have just cause.”

“Yes, I will. I appreciate your concern. Thanks, Andy.”

Her voice was pitched low, intimate in tone—probably in deference to the late hour. No doubt Jack was asleep and she didn’t want to wake him. He glanced around the squad room for his colleagues. The crowd of extra officers, called in over the emergency, had long since dispersed. It was back to the usual trio of officers: tonight the nightshift crew was made up of him, Tom and Craig Winters. He could see Tom at his desk on the far side of the room with a phone up to his ear. Winters was nowhere to be seen. He was probably in the tea room, or on break.

Andy relaxed into his chair and tried to picture Cally at home, talking to him at that moment. He wondered if she’d showered in preparation for bed. What was she wearing? Was she in her pajamas? A nightdress? Something soft and slinky?

Images of her at the beach suddenly crowded his mind. The skimpy bikini, the sun-kissed skin, the golden hair… His body stirred. “So, what are you wearing?” he murmured without thinking.

She was silent and he didn’t think she was going to answer. But then, he heard her say very softly, “I’m in my pajamas.”

He sucked in his breath. “What kind of pajamas?”

“Oh, you know, pajamas.”

“Are they soft and satiny?”

“Mm,
not really, more like practical and cottony.”

He laughed. “Practical and cottony still sounds good to me. What color are they?”

“A long time ago, they were white, but an errant red sock in the laundry turned them a pale shade of pink.”

His voice dropped lower and his heart picked up its pace. “Are you in bed?”

“I am now. I had to go into the living room to answer the phone. That’s where the phone dock is.”

“Ah, I see. Where’s Jack?”

“He’s asleep in his room.”

He lowered his voice to a seductive whisper. “Are you lying down?”

“Yes.”

His heart immediately began to pound a rapid staccato in his chest. He’d never had phone sex with anyone before—he hadn’t ever wanted to. But with Cally, it was different.

“Too bad you’re not here,” she whispered.

A surge of desire shot straight to his groin. His cock hardened. He squirmed on the chair and suddenly came back to reality. He was at work, surrounded by his colleagues.

Okay, so Tom was still engrossed in his phone conversation and Craig had yet to appear, but he now had a hard-on that he had no way of assuaging.

What the hell was he thinking?
He’d only wanted to get an update on the stalker and okay, to hear her voice. He’d had no intention of getting himself so turned on he was going to be uncomfortable for the rest of his shift.

“Are you still in your uniform?” Cally’s whispered question drew him out of his reverie. When her words registered on his brain, his heart skipped a beat.

“Yes,” he murmured.

“I’ve always had a thing about men in uniform.”

“Really?” He couldn’t prevent the smile that tugged up the corners of his mouth. “I never knew.”

Cally laughed softly. “I’ll let you in on a secret. Neither did I, until I met you.”

He chuckled. “Well, I’m glad you’ve developed that kind of…interest. I’m happy to wear it as often as you like.”

“Even to bed?” she murmured, her voice husky with emotion.

Another surge of desire rushed to his cock. He groaned. “What are you doing to me, woman? I’m at work. It’s not like I can…”

“Can what?”

He groaned again and then decided two could play at this game. “Actually, I prefer to sleep naked.”

She gasped and his grin widened. His voice dipped lower. “Didn’t I mention that before? I don’t sleep in pajamas. In fact, I don’t even own any.”

“I see.” She cleared her voice. “Perhaps you should have mentioned it earlier.”

“Would it have made any difference if I had?”

“Well, you might not have needed to bring your own bed. It might have saved you that trouble.”

Andy growled low in his throat at her forwardness. “I like the way you taste,” he murmured. “And the way you smell. I wish I could be there right now so I could lick you all over.”

He heard her sharp intake of breath and a rustle of clothing. “What are you doing, Cally?”

“Nothing, but I feel…”

Her voice fell away. He gripped the phone harder. “How do you feel, Cally?”

“Like…like I need you to touch me.”

Her admission rocked him. Unable to stand it a moment longer, he checked once again that his colleagues weren’t around and then dragged his chair closer to his desk until his lap was hidden underneath it. Sliding down the zipper on his pants, he took hold of his cock and slid his hand up and down his engorged shaft.

He groaned softly into the phone. “I want to suck your nipples until they’re hard, as hard as my cock. I want to reach down with my fingers and slip into your warmth. I can feel how wet you are, Cally. Tell me how much you want me.”

“Oh, Andy, yes!” she moaned. “Touch me. Please.”

Her little gasps of pleasure tickled his ear. “Can you feel me touching you, Cally? Can you feel my fingers on your clit? Can you feel me deep inside you?”

Her breathing became labored. His hand worked faster up and down the length of his shaft. “That’s it,” he whispered. “Come for me, sweetheart. I want to hear you come.”

As if his words pushed her over the edge, she cried out. Listening to her on the other end of the phone, his hand pumped faster until the first pulses of his climax overtook him.

When hot jets of fluid spurted into his hand, he groaned with relief. Slowly, the intense feelings subsided. He reached for the tissues.

“How are you feeling, sweetheart?” he murmured into the phone.

“I feel…good.”

“That makes two of us.” His heart swelled with tenderness.

“I’ve never done that before, Andy.” Her voice was soft and hesitant. “I hope you don’t think that I’m…” She broke off.

“I’ve never done that before, either, Cally,” he whispered back, feeling the wonder of it all over again.

“Really?” He heard the surprise in her voice.

“Yes, really.”

“How come?”

“I’m not sure,” he said honestly. “I don’t think I’ve ever wanted to do it with anyone else before.”

“I’m glad.” She was quiet and then added. “I wish you were here.”

“Me, too.”

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Cally tugged the vacuum cleaner across the floor of the kitchen, picking up toast crumbs from breakfast. After she dropped Jack at school she’d come straight home. Tuesday was not a teaching day, or a cleaning day at the station, which meant it was cleaning day at the cottage.

Sighing, she pushed each chair into place at the table and moved into the living room. Her mind kept circling back to what happened during her telephone conversation with Andy the night before. Heat crept up her neck and spread across her cheeks. She still couldn’t believe she’d had phone sex with him. She’d never done anything like that before. She’d never even
thought
about doing anything like that before.

And yet with Andy, it had seemed natural. She’d shocked herself with not only the way she’d spoken to him, but the fact she’d climaxed while he listened on the other end of the phone. Never in her wildest dreams had she thought she was capable of such brazenness or such pleasure.

Not that he’d seemed to mind. A grin tugged at the corners of her mouth. In fact, he’d seemed more than happy with her performance. She remembered his groans of relief as he climaxed and with the memory, renewed desire stirred deep inside her. For too long, she’d denied herself any sexual pleasure and the feelings and passion he’d awakened within her set her pulse racing.

He was due home very shortly and she was beyond nervous about facing him. It was one thing to do phone sex, but having to look the person in the eye the next morning…

Was she being silly?
This was the twenty-first century. Women were allowed to have orgasms, with or without a partner. Andy wouldn’t think anything of it and she shouldn’t either.

With the reminder that he’d be arriving soon, she pulled the vacuum cleaner quickly along behind her and headed through the French doors which led to the sleepout. She spied Andy’s bed and came up short. Memories of their intimacy over the phone sent heat flooding into her cheeks. How would it feel to press against his hard body on a bed that had more surface area than her Toyota?

The king-sized bed took almost the entire width of the room. He’d managed to squeeze a small table between the side of the bed and the wall. A clock radio with red illuminated numbers sat below the flowers she’d placed there almost a week earlier. She hadn’t been inside his room since and they now drooped, their petals turning brown.

Flicking off the vacuum with her foot, she leaned the wand up against the wall and walked toward the bed to remove the dead flowers. She picked up the vase and a small black-and-white photograph fell face down onto the table. She frowned. It must have been between the vase and the wall.

Suppressing a surge of guilt, she picked up the photograph and turned it over, telling herself that if it was something truly private, Andy wouldn’t have displayed it. The picture was of a woman and a little girl. The child had curly, blond hair and looked about three or four. She clung to the hem of her mother’s dress. They were both smiling at the camera. It was a happy scene and Cally found herself smiling back at them.

It must be his mother and little sister.
There was certainly a close resemblance. Remembering their tragic ending, she sighed and sat down on the side of his bed. She caught a whiff of his familiar cologne and her heart clenched with longing. She was falling for him and falling for him fast. It didn’t seem to matter she’d only known him less than a fortnight. Her heart didn’t care a fig for time factors.

There was something strange about his reluctance to show her his condominium, but the more she got to know him, the more she was sure there was a good explanation. He was simply too forthright, too honest, too darn
nice
to have any evil intent. If she was being naïve, then so be it. Everyone had to trust someone, sometime.

Carefully, she replaced the photo behind the vase then finished the vacuuming as quickly as she could. She wanted the room clean for Andy. No doubt he was tired and would be looking to sleep. She didn’t want to disturb him with undue noise.