was still sleeping, breakfast in bed. He wasn’t a gourmet cook like Logan, but he knew how to make a mean French toast and fresh fruit breakfast. He gathered the bread, eggs, cinnamon and milk and put the frying pan down on the burner. Next he wanted to slice the fresh strawberries he’d put in a bowl earlier. He turned around to grab a bowl of fruit off the counter and saw her standing there, clad in nothing but that see through Vera Wang nightgown.
“I’m hungry.”
He actually gulped. Here he was, over a thousand years old, and he was gulping over the sight of a woman in a sheer nightgown.
“So am I.” The bowl of fruit went back on the counter. The nightgown hit the floor. He had her spread out on the kitchen table before she could blink, feasting on the most delicious pussy it had ever been his privilege to taste. He held her hips down and took her clit into his mouth, sucking it in, sipping at the folds, drawing her essence inside him. He’d never be able to get enough of her taste. Each of her moans, every one of her sighs belonged to him now. He took great pleasure in drawing them out.
She shuddered below him, moaning, letting him know in the sweetest way that she’d come. With one last, loving lick he stood. He undid his jeans and slid his cock in the only place it ever wanted to be again, fucking her on the kitchen table and mentally thanking Logan for getting nice, sturdy wood.
He took his time, moving slowly at first so that she’d be able to catch up to him. And, really, after the sex they’d had yesterday he had no problem taking it slowly this time. She’d practically drained him dry with her mouth, then ridden him so beautifully his head damn near exploded along with his balls.
His thumb began a lazy stroking of her clit. Her legs wrapped around his waist, her heels digging into the small of his back. Her hands dug into his shoulders and pulled him down to her. He allowed it, seeing the heat slowly building in her eyes.
She offered him her breasts, and the world began to fade at the edges. All of her inner beauty opened before his eyes, her light shining from within nearly blinding him. He could see all of it now, every damn inch of her displayed before him. Her strength, her courage, her devotion to those she loved shone forth like a beacon to him. All of her, even the tiny, dark corners of her soul, was precious to him.
Her love made him whole again.
He could feel his orgasm creeping up on him and desperately tried to hold it off, but he could sense the beginnings of hers and it damn near threw him over the edge. Determined to send her over first he balanced on his right arm and took her nipple between his teeth. He tugged at it the same time he strummed her clit with his fingers, throwing her into another orgasm. Her gasped shriek was music to his ears, her pussy spasming around his cock like a vise, pulling him into his own orgasm. He drained himself into her, wanting so much to be a part of her forever.
“Y’know,” she panted beneath him, her South Philly accent thickened and slurred, “donuts are my usual breakfast, but I could learn to live with this.”
He threw his head back and laughed.
“Okay, people. Gary, you and Paul are serving the warrant on Val Grimm. Danny and I are taking on Yardley- Rudiger. Any questions?” Toni looked at the men heading into the condominium complex just outside Rittenhouse Square. To a man they looked grimly determined.
She still couldn’t believe she was serving a warrant on so little evidence. She’d never had to deal with something like this before, but the judge had signed off on it, the captain had organized it, so here she was.
She just hoped they weren’t making a huge mistake.
Danny seemed oddly excited, but some guys got like that. The thrill of the takedown was the best high ever. Hell, she’d probably be feeling something similar herself if her instincts weren’t screaming at her that she was doing the wrong thing, that they had the wrong men.
The fact that the blood and fiber work still hadn’t come by the time they left the precinct this afternoon was going to cause problems. Their defense attorney was going to be able to get them off on that alone. But trying to point that out privately to the captain and the DA had been an exercise in futility.
Feh. She hated when a case went south because some gung-ho asshole bureaucrat was screaming for closure and forced the hands of the cops. It was frustrating as hell.
Here’s hoping Danny’s proof is waiting once we get these guys in lock-up. Because if anything went wrong she had the feeling it wouldn’t be Danny’s ass on the line.
Jamie pulled her shirt down over her sore breasts, actually grateful Travis was working on the computer. The man had an unhealthy fascination with her nipples that had left them a little bit sore, too tender to wear a bra. She was going to have to have a little talk with him about that. Later. As it was, the cotton of her T-shirt was rubbing against them, making them perk up.
She was digging through her underwear when the doorbell rang. Crap. Her relatives did not get to see her all perky. She thrust her arms through the bra, closing it quickly. She tugged on her T-shirt and darted for the door.
“…under arrest for the murder of Oliver Grimm.”
Jamie’s jaw dropped open. Travis was being handcuffed by some woman wearing a badge at her hip, the one going around his right wrist tight enough to keep him from wiggling his arm free. Behind her was another man, a dark smirk on his face that made her want to hit him. Something about that man, the way he stood maybe, seemed awfully familiar.
Travis stood docilely while the woman finished snapping the handcuffs closed. He looked at Jamie, and that was when she saw how truly angry he was. “Go to Logan’s.”
She nodded. He didn’t have to say a word. If anyone could get him out of this it would be the Trickster.
“Ms. Grimm?”
She turned to the woman, stepping further out into the light. “Yes.”
The woman’s brows rose, surprise and suspicion all over her features. “You look remarkably well for someone who was tortured a month ago.”
Jamie raised her chin and glared. “I heal quickly.”
“Apparently.” The woman pulled Travis toward the door, ignoring Jamie’s hiss of protest.
“Listen to me! Travis didn’t do it.”
The policewoman turned. “Have that much faith in him, do you?”
Jamie nodded. “I do.”
The woman returned Jamie’s narrow eyed stare, her expression searching.
“Mancinelli, we have to get him down to the squad car. The others are arresting Mr. Grimm right now.” A gloating expression quickly passed over the male detective’s face, taking his handsome features and making them ugly.
“Uncle Val?” Better and better. Fuck. “Why would you arrest my uncle?”
“For the same reason I’m arresting lover-boy. Murder.”
“They didn’t murder Oliver Grimm.”
“Then who did?” All of a sudden the detective was in her face, practically nose to nose. “If you know something about this and are hiding it I will have your ass in jail so fast your dust won’t have time to settle.”
“Leave her alone.”
Jamie could hear that odd echo in Travis’s voice and knew she had to distract the detectives. “What’s going to happen to Travis?”
“Mr. Rudiger will be taken downtown, processed, read his rights and interrogated.”
“When will bail be set?”
The detective smiled grimly. “That depends on the judge.” Detective Mancinelli backed away.
“Remember what I said. Accessory to murder, Ms. Grimm.”
