“For being such a fucking bitch. You did so much for me, and I treated you like shit.”
“Babe, we both made mistakes. But that was then, and this is now.”
“You know, when you catch this bastard, I’m going to have to ask the publisher for an extension to rewrite the damn book.”
“We could write it together,” he whispered.
She swallowed, trying desperately to digest his response, but his lips came crashing down on hers. His tongue probed, finding every crevice inside her mouth, making it impossible for her to process the ramification of his words.
His hands found the back of her thighs, and he lifted her effortlessly off the floor, resting her ass on the desk.
All of a sudden she was painfully aware of her surroundings. She froze.
“What’s wrong?”
“Not here.”
He lifted her into his arms and pulled open the door. “Good call,” he murmured against her ear. He dabbled her neck with kisses as he made his way up the stairs.
Once in his bedroom, it was a frenzy to remove their clothing. She couldn’t get hers off fast enough. Her desire for him raced through her bloodstream like a freight train out of control. It was as if she were afraid she might not ever have him again, so she needed to make sure this time his passion would be burned inside her forever.
So she’d never forget him.
Ever.
Oh, God. She loved him so much that letting him go again would be damn near impossible.
They tumbled to the bed. His hands cupped her breasts, pinching and twisting her nipples while he kissed her with intense greed.
She reached for him, but he kept batting her hand away, so she gave up and sank into the mattress, letting him have his way with her.
He knew her body better than she did. He teased her with his fingers and tongue, bringing her to the edge, letting her hang there for seconds before pulling back, only to start again. Only this time, he thrust into her hard and deep.
Digging her fingers into his back, she gasped. Her body jerked and shuddered. She couldn’t catch her breath. She tried to fill her lungs, but all she managed to do was make herself dizzy.
She wrapped her arms and legs around him as tight as she could while he buried his face in her neck. Their bodies moved as one while their orgasms collided in a fiery ball and exploded between them, connecting them as one soul.
“I love you,” he whispered.
A single tear rolled down her cheek. “I love you too,” she said. “But it doesn’t change anything.”
Chapter 14
Jag stared out at the water as the ferry made its way across Puget Sound from Whidbey Island to the mainland. He had spent most of the morning grappling with his feelings for Callie. She said the words. She might have tried to discount them, but she still let them come out of her mouth.
That was a start.
Of course, she’d said nothing about his thought on them co-writing the book, which had honestly come out of nowhere, but it made sense in a weird way. Hell, he’d already helped her rewrite a few chapters, and he’d worked a little bit on his chapter this morning before leaving for work. She seemed to like his suggestions. Well, most of them.
And she didn’t argue with him on the few things that he asked she remove, though she did ask for clarification.
While he hated dealing with the Trinket Killer again, he loved working with Callie.
Now he was going to spend the afternoon dealing with three dead bodies, bringing the count to five.
He pulled off the ferry and headed toward Carkeek Park where all three women had been found. The Trinket Killer had never gone on a mass killing before. Nor had she accelerated her murders like this. It had taken her six years to kill twelve people. And if she was responsible for the Mood Ring victims, six in a twelve-month period.
Those numbers churned up his heartburn. They could mean something. Then again, the Trinket Killer seemed to be acting erratically lately by not following her usual MO. There had to be a reason.
There was always a reason.
He pulled into the parking lot of the park where it was already a bustle of activity. His heartburn kicked up as he rolled past the Channel 5 news van and Bailey and her crew. He parked his vehicle near all the other police cars and made his way to the crime scene tape. He flashed his badge and signed the log before ducking under the tape and finding Matt.
“Hey, thanks for coming out,” Matt said.
“Can’t say I’m thrilled to have an invite to this party.” Jag swallowed the bile bubbling up his esophagus. He took a deep cleansing breath, mentally prepping his mind for what he was about to see. For the last year, he’d lived a quiet life. No murders. No deadly crime that required him to harden his soul. Sure, there had been a deadly car crash on the island, which affected him just as deeply, but the emotions were different. “So, tell me why I’m here.” Jag already knew the answer, but he wanted Matt to give him the rundown.
“We’ve got two prostitutes.”
“The Trinket Killer never murdered a prostitute before,” Jag said.
“Maybe not and as we’ve both said, this could be a copycat who doesn’t know that or doesn’t care, but we’ve got rose gold trinkets in their left hands. However, a big difference is the bodies were just dumped. Tossed into a shallow grave together. And they’d started to decompose, so they’ve most likely been here a few days.”
“We still don’t have an ID on the girl from the island,” Jag said, rubbing his temples. The killer had burned off the victim’s fingerprints, and so far, they couldn’t match the victim to any missing persons. “Any idea who these girls are?”
“Yeah.” Matt led Jag toward the shallow grave where the medical examiner was still working on the
