Chapter 14
And Morning wasn’t lying. That had been the most earth-shattering sex she had ever participated in. She had no idea passion could rage like that. But, from the minute she’d seen his physical reaction, she’d wanted to know what that kind of passionate power was like. What it was like to have somebody want her as desperately as he did at the moment. And it had been worth everything.
Her fingers stroked his arm, his side, his back. He stilled. She frowned, leaned up on her elbow, pulled his arm up and rolled him slightly toward her so she could look at his back. She cried out softly at the scars. She stroked across the mangled one over his shoulder blade and several more on his spine.
When she came to his buttocks, there were scars, big ugly scars across his flesh. There was a huge indentation on the top of his right buttock, damage from whatever injury had befallen him.
She stroked her fingers along and out and around, but that wasn’t enough. She sat up and kissed every spot she could find.
Slowly he relaxed as if he’d thought she would run from him, run from seeing the scars of a body that had been ravaged by something terrible.
When she’d finally explored all of his back, his thighs, and came to the prosthetic of his lower right leg, she stopped and stared. Her fingers gently stroked along the edge where the cup held his lower leg in place.
He stiffened, waiting to see what she’d do, only to feel his heart ease as she dropped a kiss onto his knee and said, “I didn’t even notice.”
“Good,” he whispered. “I didn’t want you to think less of me. Serving my country took a toll on my body.”
She looked up at him. “How could anybody think less of you for what you’ve been through? You served our country, for all of us, and this is what happens to you? If anything, I want to murder the person who did this to you.”
“What makes you think a person did this?” he asked curiously.
She shook her head. “I have no idea.” Her hands stroked his other leg, his foot—a foot that had to be at least twice the size hers. With a smile, she stretched out her leg, held her foot against his and shook her head. “You’re just so damn big.” She stroked her leg up his thigh and his hips as he chuckled.
And she saw scars on the top of his thighs, and an old scar against the inside of his hip. She figured it had something to do with internal injuries. But definitely nothing was wrong with his manhood. It rose proud and strong in front of her again. She stared at it, her fingers stroking over the top and back again as it waved. He groaned, and she closed her fingers tightly around it, sliding up and down and then up again.
He shuddered. His body open and available. He was such a big man and so accepting of anything she wanted to do for him.
She sighed with happiness, gently cupping the globes between his thighs and kissed the head in front of her.
His good hand gently grasped her hair, and he whispered, “Too much of that and I won’t be able to hold back.”
“I’ve already seen how much control you have.” Her fingers gently slid across the top again. “And it’s a lot.”
He chuckled. “That was not control. I took one look at you, and my body reacted.”
She chuckled and rose on her knees, gently straddling his hips. Instead of letting him enter her again, she gently slid up and down the length of him.
He sighed, his hands coming to rest on her thighs. “It’s been a long time,” he admitted quietly.
“Good,” she whispered. “I’d hate to think you spread this beautiful body around. So many wouldn’t appreciate it.”
He chuckled. “I don’t think appreciation is what most people think when they see this body.”
She flicked her tongue across his nipples and gently nipped one. A rumble rolled up his chest, and he hugged her close. She lay against him, wondering about what had happened to this beautiful man. At the same time, she knew it would bring him pain and sorrow to ask, and she didn’t want anything taking from their joy of the moment.
She rose high, and, this time when she sat, she slid down over his shaft until she was fully seated. She threw her head back, eyes closed. She reached out her hands for him to grab as she said, “You know what I always dreamed about?”
“What?” he asked, his voice thick, hoarse.
“Riding.” And she started to ride.
She woke hours later, her body sore, achy, thrumming with pleasure, even hours after their last lovemaking session. She wrapped her arms around the big man beside her, loving when he tugged her closer. “I don’t want this night to end,” she whispered.
He dropped a kiss on her temple. “Neither do I.”
She sighed with happiness and just lay here awash in the peace and quiet and the joy of the moment.
A phone buzzed somewhere next to them. Geir made to move, and she moaned in protest. “I have to check it,” he whispered gently, easing out of her arms.
She watched as he picked up his pants and snatched his phone from the pocket.
As soon as he read the message, he bolted to his feet, jumped into his boxers and jeans and pulled his T-shirt over his head. He raced to the door, turned to look back at her, held a finger to his lips and whispered, “Stay here.” And he ran out into the hall.
She sat up, realizing the call must have come from Jager. Desperate to not end up nude in the middle of a gunfight, or whatever kind of fight this would be, she quickly dressed in yoga pants and a sports bra and sat cross-legged on the bed, waiting for one of them to let her know everything was all right. She kept the light off, sitting in the silent dark.
Jager’s message had been clear. One word: Trouble.
Geir slid along the hall toward the studio. The door was open. He peered in. Jager stood beside the French doors.
In a low whisper he said, “Someone came through the backyard and into the house through the French doors of her father’s rooms.”
Geir’s jaw hardened. “Good. Now let’s get the bastard.” Geir went down the back stairway while Jager made his way to the front stairway. Creeping as quietly as he could by putting most his weight on the banisters, off the creaky stairs of an old house, Geir made his way to the bottom and stopped. Somewhere this guy was hiding, and it appeared he’d been in the house enough times that he knew the nooks and crannies, the best places to be. Mentally Geir shifted through the various rooms, wondering where the intruder was going and what he was after.
Just then he heard the sound of papers shuffling in the office. Not understanding what could possibly be of interest there, but knowing Jager was coming down that hallway, Geir slid into her father’s bedroom to see if it was just one intruder or two. Nobody hid in the bedroom. Geir slid back out again, down the hallway toward the office. Still he heard sounds of papers being moved, and he knew Jager would hear it too.
As he came up to the corner and peered around to the office door, he saw Jager holding up a single finger to say one man inside. Perfect. As one they stepped into the room, and Jager said, “Just what do you think you’re doing?”
The intruder froze.
Geir flicked on the light, and his eyebrows shot up. “What the hell?”
Ken glared back at him. “What are you two doing down here? Did you break curfew?”
Jager shook his head. “Hardly. I watched you come across the backyard and break into the downstairs room.”
Ken shook his head. “Like hell,” he scoffed.
Geir motioned at the paperwork. “What are you doing here?”
He shrugged. “I was looking for something.”
“Oh, yeah?” Morning said from behind them.
Geir turned and stared at her. “I told you to stay upstairs,” he snapped.
She nodded. She held the mouse in her hand. “Is this what you’re looking for?”
Geir watched as Ken’s gaze locked on it. He frowned, gripped the reservations book and a credit card slip, then said, “I’ll take that too.”
“Why is that?”
“I don’t care why it is,” Ken said. “I’m being paid to pick it up, so I don’t give a shit about the reasons behind it.”
“And is the man who hired you driving your getaway vehicle?”
Ken stared at him. “What do you know about a getaway vehicle?”
“Poppy put you up to this?”
Ken froze. “Poppy?”
Jager smiled. “Does that name get to you? Are you one of his little boys?”
The man sneered. “Like hell. No way somebody would do that to me.”
“So why are you here?” Morning snapped. “Why didn’t he show up himself?”
And that’s when a new voice entered the discussion. “He did.” The voice was gravelly behind them.
Suddenly Morning was thrust into the room, and the second man entered, only this one held a handgun.
He stared at Ken and sneered. “You couldn’t even retrieve the damn stuffed mouse. You’re the one who placed it here, and you couldn’t even find it again. That’s what I get for picking a wannabe. But you were the only local I could get on short notice.”
Ken stared back at him. “What the hell? You sent me in here to do the job. You should have just left me to do it.” He waved at the gun. “That’ll only make things worse.”
The stranger stood beside them. Geir took a quick look, noticing his features. He was a man in his mid- to late sixties, big, but almost Santa-friendly looking until he smiled. A nasty little smile. He wondered if Ken had any idea just how dangerous Poppy was.
“Poppy, I presume?” Geir asked. He heard Morning’s gasp of shock.
She turned to look at him. “It is you.”
He looked at her in surprise. “Do you know me?”
She nodded. “I used to live in the house across the street from your house.”
“So, you were one of those kids who used to come over all the time?”
She shook her head. “No, I avoided you like the plague.” Her voice was hard. “You were always after little boys. I knew because I was a girl that I was safe, but I didn’t want anything to do with you.”
His eyes narrowed. “You’d better watch your mouth, young lady.”
She snorted. “Why should I? You sent this asshole into my home to torment me … to torment my guests … and for what? What the hell were you expecting?” she scoffed. “You can’t use the same tricks you use on little boys with big ones. So you had to be sending a message to them.”
“You don’t know nothing,” Poppy roared. “It was a message. But you don’t know what kind. And obviously they are too stupid too.”
Geir wished she would choose this time to put the brakes on instead of deciding to be independent and stand up to a gunman. “What message?” Geir asked, trying to calm Poppy down. “That you can get at us anywhere? Anytime? Considering that we caught your messenger, then I guess the joke’s on you.”
Geir just needed the right moment to lunge forward. But, as long as that gun was pointed at Morning, he had no chance to grab it. It might go off accidentally, and no way in hell would he get her hurt.
Jager was on the other side of him. They exchanged a hard glance, and suddenly Poppy fired the gun.
Morning cried out in shock.
Ken collapsed over her desk, spreading blood all over her paperwork as it gushed from the bullet hole in his forehead.
But for Jager it was perfect. With that deadly left of his, he coldcocked Poppy right in the throat. With a weird gurgling sound, Poppy fell forward, flat-faced into the carpet.
Geir jumped on him, grabbing the gun from his hand, tossing it to Jager, pulling the old man’s hands together to secure them behind his back. He need not worry because Poppy was out cold. And, unfortunately, his face looked to be red, as he struggled to breathe.
Shit,” Geir roared. He ripped open the old man’s shirt and checked his breathing. “Call for an ambulance,” he ordered Jager. “The last thing I want is to have this asshole die before we get answers.”
Geir watched his chest rise and fall steadily while they waited for the cops to show up. Poppy was breathing but still unconscious. Geir didn’t know if Jager’s chop to the throat had done this or if all the excitement had caused a heart attack. By the time the cops got here and the ambulance arrived, Geir was afraid it would be too late. He had mixed emotions about performing CPR on this sick pedophile, but he decided he would, if it came to that.
The sirens could now be heard blocks away.
And suddenly paramedics pushed Geir out of the way.
He stepped off to the side, pulled Morning into his arms and walked her onto the front porch. A car pulled up to the front of the house. Jager had contacted the same detective, who was ready to go into action when they called. He got out of his car and raced toward them.
“It’s Poppy,” Geir said. “He shot the man he sent here after us. We wrestled the gun away and him to the ground, but he’s having a medical emergency of some kind—possibly a heart attack. I don’t know if he’ll make it. I’ll be freaking pissed if he doesn’t. We need answers from him.”
The detective went inside but was brushed out of the way as the paramedics wheeled Poppy to the ambulance.
Jager came out with the detective. The four watched as the ambulance pulled away. The detective looked at Geir and Jager. “So does bad shit naturally happen around you guys, or are you really talented in that area?”
It was Morning who burst out laughing. “You know? That might be the best question asked tonight.” She stood in the circle of Geir’s arms. “These guys saved my life, and I won’t forget that.”
The detective looked down at her and smiled. “Sounds like you’ve got yourself a couple guardian angels.”
She nodded. “And, for that, I’m very grateful.”
The detective sighed. “It’ll be a long night. Let’s get started with your statements.”