Chapter Twelve
“What do you have for me?” Jaeger asked Frank Burlo, an old friend in the NYPD he kept in touch and traded favors with every so often.
Frank took a drag off his cigarette and looked around. They’d stepped back from the place where Lee’s body had been found by the Hudson River. A homeless person called 911, and now police cars blocked the streets and an ambulance had transported the body to the morgue. Pedestrians had swarmed the area at first, curious about the body being taken out of the water. “Head wound. Doesn’t look like there’s any damage to the body, but autopsy will tell us for sure.”
“Head wound, huh? Any ideas as to the weapon?”
“It’s hard to say for sure. Looks like a blunt instrument, like a bowl or maybe a vase.”
Again. Amateur shit—a crime of opportunity. A bowl or vase was a lot harder to trace than a bullet. He, or she, also didn’t know enough about the black market where they could get an unlicensed gun. Maybe he wasn’t comfortable using guns. Either way, the crime hadn’t been premeditated. “Time of death?”
Frank puffed out some smoke. “I’d say at least three days.”
“Will you let me know what autopsy says?”
“I shouldn’t.” Frank coughed a couple of times. “But I will.”
Jaeger bit back a smile, remembering his days in the NYPD. Young folks joined the force, but the old ones—like Frank—always seemed to crack the case faster and by using much less technology.
“Thanks, man.” He tapped his shoulder.
“Looks like life’s treating you well,” Frank said, pointing at his Italian leather jacket.
Running a business surely had its advantages. He was his own boss and could pick which clients he wished to take on—and how much he wanted to charge. “I’m good.”
“The department isn’t the same without you,” Frank said, nodding at him with a semismile that creased the wrinkles around his eyes.
“Thanks. Say hi to everyone for me,” Jaeger said. He always made a mental note to stop by, but deep down he knew that wouldn’t happen. Visiting his former coworkers and seeing his old desk meant reliving that past—and he’d had enough of that in the months following Ellen and Trevor’s deaths, when he kept asking himself if there was something he could have done differently the day they died.
Frank’s cell phone rang, and he glanced at the screen. Shaking his head, he tossed the cigarette butt into a metal trash can and smoothed his hand over his black jacket. “I’d better go. I’ll let you know what I find out, Bauer.”
Jaeger watched Frank Burlo disappear into the crowd of onlookers then reappear inside the yellow-taped area secured by police. If he stayed long enough, he would maybe recognize one or two familiar faces, people he’d worked with. That part of him would be forever linked to Ellen and Trevor. His job had forced him to do overtime, to miss some of his son’s milestones, and to jeopardize his own family.
It’s not your fault. Camila’s voice rang in his ear—soft and at the same time thickened by her strong accent. His aunt Gesa had said Ellen had known about his lifestyle before she married him. But had she really anticipated eating dinner alone the first couple years of their marriage?
Jaeger tried to make up for it by spending time with Trevor whenever he could. Sometimes he’d get home late, and she’d already put Trevor to sleep. Jaeger would still go upstairs and give his son a kiss. Sometimes, he’d watch him for a long time. Now it seemed he hadn’t watched enough.
His chest squeezed so tight for a second he got lightheaded, and he closed his eyes and opened them again immediately to make sure he knew where he was. His throat felt hoarse and dry, and he had to swallow twice to be able to shove the sadness down. The contours of his face tightened, and behind his eyelids, something prickled and burned.
He’d never see Trevor again. He could work all he wanted, keep busy, and sleep with women who meant nothing to him to distract him from the painful truth. Tears blurred his vision, and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d cried like this.
…
“What are you doing here?” Camila asked when he showed up at the back entrance of the hospital.
“I just tagged out Omar,” he said. What he didn’t add was that he’d arrived early and watched the boring entrance while the only thing distracting him were email updates and images—images of what she’d look like when she pushed the door open and stepped away from the hospital.
His heart had raced foolishly every time someone walked through those doors. But now, seeing her, his chest was a minute away from exploding. “How are you feeling?” Because he needed the connection…after reliving his grief and realizing he couldn’t change the reality by losing himself in work, meaningless sex, etc.
“Like someone crushed my heart and I can’t pick up the pieces,” she said.
Ever since learning of Lee’s death, she’d alternated between devastated and resolute to find the killer. He could tell she wanted to pull herself together for his boyfriend, but felt guilty. “I contacted his parents. He’ll be buried next week so out-of-town family members can attend. Police are questioning his coworkers and students. I…still can’t believe.”
“I’m sorry.” He led her to his car and opened the door for her.
During the drive to his place, they didn’t exchange many words. He enjoyed the comfortable silence, the most peaceful moment of his day. When they arrived at his place and Pork Chop jumped from the sofa to greet them—especially her—his pulse quickened. Whether he liked it or not, whether he could stop it or not, something greater than his rules and his way of life unfolded before his eyes.
She put her bag on the side table, the same place she always did. What would it look like when she no longer stayed at his place? Once they caught the criminal…her place was far closer to the hospital, more practical, and besides, she’d no longer be a client. Is she just a client now?
He didn’t want to think about any of it. Words from Frank and his aunt jumbled in his mind, twisting his insides. Second-guessing his choices in life had been one of the reasons why he shouldn’t have gotten involved with her—he had already too much to worry about, a case to solve and now…his groin stirred.
She petted Pork Chop, who enjoyed the massage so much he closed his eyes and sighed. Jaeger’s gaze fell to her soft hands and imagined what it’d be like to feel them all over his body, caressing his hair, stroking his jaw.
He cleared his throat. When she’d sucked him, he’d had the best orgasm of his life. Then they’d talked, and he trusted her in a way that scared the shit out of him—scared him enough to decide to restrain her during the following sexual encounters, to have some control over his scorching desire.
Now, as she whispered sweet nothings to the dog, the only thing he needed was to screw her until all conundrums dissipated from his head. He wanted to go to that world where doubts vanished and pleasured reigned—where regret and self-doubt were an expired currency. Where he could feel something deeper, and lose himself in her.
“Camila,” he called.
She turned to face him, and the smile she gave his dog disappeared from her lips. “Yeah?” she asked, tilting her head to the side and erasing the distance between them. Her brown eyes darkened to a midnight black, but with small flecks of silver flickering around the irises. She parted her mouth and licked her lower lip.
“Take off your clothes.”
“Why don’t you do it for me, big guy?”
“I can’t think of anything better,” he said, and stepped toward her. He started to unbutton her shirt, and she reached for his belt buckle, her fingers hovering over the leather accessory.
“Neither can I,” she whispered, then flashed him a wicked smile that made him want to push her over the sofa and take her right there. But if he wanted this, he had to do it the right away. Screw the consequences; he’d deal with them later.
He undid each small, round button, then removed her shirt and flung it aside. Smiling, he ran a finger from her neck to her belly button, and he felt her shiver. She unbuckled his belt, and unzipped him in a swift move. He groaned and sucked up all the air in the room when she shoved her hand into his boxers and stroked him. His cock hardened in her palm, her flesh soft and warm. A moan fled her lips, carrying the message he wanted to hear: she enjoyed touching him. She wanted this every bit as much as he did. Why deny her? Why deny them?
He reached for her bra and opened it, her perfect breasts spilling into view. A strong longing shot up his arm and he pinched her taut nipples, one then the other, provoking a couple of low moans from her. “You’re beyond sexy.”
“So good.” She reached for his balls, cupping them, and he felt his heart racing in the base of his throat. Shit. He couldn’t wait to be inside her.
He dipped his head and lowered his lips to hers, capturing her in a kiss that ignited every part of him. He meshed his tongue with hers, and she stroked his cock, her hand sliding up and down. Passion he never experienced until now bolted through his bloodstream, expanding his veins, pounding them dangerously. Groaning, he intensified the kiss, trying to convey with his mouth the sexual hunger that only grew stronger the more intimately she touched him. “God.”
She stopped touching him, and he blinked out of the delicious trance. “I want you fully naked.”
As fast as he could manage, he removed the shirt over his head, and pulled down his jeans and shoes, kicking them to the side. She still had on her skirt, which he decided to take off along with her panties.
For the first time they stood in front of each other, bare. Equals as man and woman, about to have sex and without a trace of handcuffs or silky ties.
Maybe she sensed his uneasiness. The only part of him that moved was his cock, growing and hardening against her belly. “We can do this, Jaeger. You can do this,” she said. If she weren’t well on the way to becoming an accomplished shrink, he’d hire her to be a detective because her instincts and mind-reading capabilities amazed him.
She placed her hand on his chest, and his heart thrummed embarrassingly fast. A smile broke her kissable lips. He picked her up in his arms, and she gasped, surprised, and he headed for his bedroom.
The way he fell into the bed with her could have used more finesse, but he no longer cared. She chuckled and rolled on top of him before he could move, straddling him. “I need to show you a thing or two I learned from you,” she said, planting kisses on his neck and chest.
“I’m sure this will be one of those cases of the pupil surpassing the master.”
“You’ll be the judge of that,” she said, and he laughed at the irony. Lying with her he didn’t feel in charge of anything, let alone good judgment. And that was okay, for once.
Camila licked the salty valley between his neck and shoulder and caught a whiff of the straightforward scent of clean soap and Jaeger. He contracted, his muscles bunching into a dreamy combination of hard ridges. The same sensation she had during their first time together—that the moment could dissipate out of nowhere and she should enjoy as much as she could—assailed her.
He caressed her ass, his fingers kneading her buttocks, driving her crazy with want. Meu Deus. If he continued like this, he’d be bending her over in no time. Not that she didn’t love it when he dominated her, but this once she wanted to know what it was like to walk in his shoes. Most of her life had been dictated by others—helping her family in their struggles as a child then a teenager; then her people-pleasing personality by happily letting her brothers overprotect her as a young woman. For the past two years, she’d been venturing in the big city, thousands of miles from home, all on her own. And now, damn it, she wanted to hold the reins with a man. Not just any man—Jaeger Bauer. “Have you ever been cuffed in bed?” she asked him, the words fleeing her mouth.
He frowned. “No.”
“Do you trust me?” she asked, then drew in a breath. How awkward would it be if he said no? Should she just get up and leave? Acid churned in her stomach.
He glanced at her, his eyes studying hers before sliding down to her mouth and breasts. “Yes.”
“Don’t move,” she told him, and ran to the nightstand where she knew he kept his handcuffs before he changed his mind.
“I see you have it all figured out,” he said, amused, watching her hustle to get the cuffs and jump back in bed.
No, she hadn’t. In fact, until a few minutes ago she didn’t think he’d ever sleep with her without restraining her. Then something changed, an energy had moved between them and not only was she enjoying it, she wanted to take full advantage and try the whole experience. Maybe if he knew what she’d felt when he’d tied her up…they would have that connection to bind them to each other forever.
She grabbed his arms and slapped the cuff on his right wrist, then linked the chain to the bed. Soon, she cuffed his left wrist and tightened the chain to his bed frame so he had to lie down but wasn’t uncomfortable. Whoa. The sight of that gorgeous man at her mercy sent a wave of empowerment through her. He’d admitted he had never done such a thing before. She’d be his first.
When she looked at his cock, she got flustered. The large shaft jutted out proudly, and the sight of it made her wonder how she managed to fit him inside her. Whenever he thrust into her, they came together, molded to each other perfectly.
Tingly threads formed at her core and shot down to her sex. Deciding not to waste time, she kissed his neck, her tongue sliding over the wild pulse. He wanted her, maybe as much as she wanted him. She nipped his flesh, and he rewarded her with a sexy groan. Nice.
“You’re killing me, sweetheart,” he said.
“Maybe to revive you I need to kill you first.”
“All this time and I didn’t know you had a hidden agenda.”
She smiled but didn’t let the banter distract her from her task. She wanted to savor him, to taste him, to…love him in a way he’d never forget. When she’d been insecure he’d made her feel safe and cherished. Now, she’d return the favor.
She let her hands peruse over his abs, her fingers tracing every edge of his perfect six-pack abs. He inhaled deeply, and a low rumble surged through her. She continued her exploration mission, licking his nipples, nipping his flesh, and losing count of the sexy sounds he seemingly tried to suppress but came out anyway.
“Not being able to touch you is hell,” he hissed out.
She raised her eyes and locked on his. “Welcome to my life.”
“Are you wet?” he asked.
Was she! She opened her legs more so he could feel her wetness against his groin.
His deep growl sliced through the room. “God, Camila. I let you do this to me. Now I need to fuck you. Really bad.”
His dirty talking only added one more notch to her arousal. She quivered over him, but didn’t get off him or unlock his cuffs. “Are you begging? Because that’s what it sounded like.”
“You’re in trouble once I get my hands on you,” he said with a glint in his eyes.
“Can’t wait.” She thrust her hips against his thighs, teasing him a bit more. A ripple of pleasure traveled through her, but she didn’t want to stop.
She leaned over him, so her breasts dangled above his mouth. He lifted his head, and stuck out his tongue but she withdrew a fraction of a second before he had a chance to lick it. Her nipples tightened harder in response, her breasts full and achy for his mouth.
“I’m on the pill. And I’m safe. Are you safe?” she asked.
“Yes. I always—”
She dropped lower and this time, he caught her breast in his mouth. She moaned, the feel of his tongue claiming her sensitive nub too good to ignore. She’d asked him because she wanted nothing between them if she could. She needed to be filled, his hot seed deep in her sex, like it had in her mouth. She craved being as close to him as they possibly could get…and never letting go. “I want every last drop of you inside me.”
She dared to move up to watch him, and the look he gave her cut right through her soul. Pain and relief blended in his now forest green eyes; his lips parted but no sound came from them. Somehow, she knew this wasn’t about sex; their dynamic hadn’t been about “just sex” for a while, and maybe he thought the same deep inside.
She positioned herself over his cock and moaned when she pushed him inside her, her slick folds stretched to the maximum to accommodate his girth and size. She enjoyed every painful inch and willed the ache away. Thankfully, after a couple of deep breaths her body recognized him, and she relaxed a bit.
When she caught him staring at her intently, a wave of warmth spread through her neck and cheeks. God, he was so hot—had the power to sizzle her nerve endings without laying a finger on her. She could tell he tensed up, not only by the contracted ridges of his abs, but his fingers curling and uncurling. The handcuffs seemed like metal bracelets on his wrists.
Without breaking the stare, she rocked her hips into him, moving back and forth. The scent of her arousal filled the air around her, and she kept thrusting herself onto his cock, her desire for him increasing with each plunge. He rocked his hips, trying in his own way to fuck her. She continued to ride him, and though she loved to have her hands free, she missed his touch on her, his fingers provoking her, his hot breath fanning her earlobe.
“Yes,” she said, when he lifted his hips from the bed, intensifying his thrusts. At that very second, his handcuffs rattled against the frame, and the frame slammed the wall until she heard a cracking sound, and when she blinked, he had yanked and torn the handcuffs from the chain.
Swiftly he rolled up and inverted positions, putting her on all fours with her ass up in the air. She gasped, and he plunged inside her, so deep she whimpered. “You want every drop of me, sweetheart?” he said in a sexy, throaty voice. “That’s what you’re going to get.”
God. He hadn’t played around when he said she was in trouble. He made an invisible circle on her buttocks with his hands, warming her skin. She arched against him, her clit sensitized and her brain fogged with desire.
“You’ll get a spanking for bad behavior.”
“Then I should do it more often.”
He swatted her cheek, and she moaned.
Then…he slapped her other buttock. “This is for tying me up.”
She bit back a smile, so weakened by imminent pleasure she couldn’t think of anything smart or cute to say. He thrust deeper into her, harder, and his finger flicked her swollen clit. “God. I’m going to come.”
“Not yet,” he said, and stopped touching her.
He flipped her on her back, then brought her up to a sitting position where she sat in front of him, her legs wrapped around him, and soon he slipped inside her again. Heaven.
“The thing is…I want every last bit of you, too,” he whispered.
She bobbed her head, sweat glistening on her forehead. He slammed into her and again touched her intimately, like only he knew how. She let a symphony of moans fly from her mouth. She could no longer contain the rush of adrenaline exploding inside or the spasms ruling her body.
She rested her head on his shoulder, her body crashing against his as he drove into her one last time. With a hoarse sound, he screamed his orgasm and his seed flooded her. Completing her. Filling her. Making her his.