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Authors: Meryl Sawyer

Half Past Dead (22 page)

BOOK: Half Past Dead
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“Pick up the pace.” His voice had a husky edge.

She walked faster, focusing on putting one foot in front of the other. She'd never be able to solve the mystery unless she regained her strength. Still, having Justin at her side was distracting. Tempting.

Kat had been in prison too long, away from any men except the disgusting guards. She might have been an ugly duckling who could boast of just one brief relationship, but that hadn't kept her from looking at men. And daydreaming about them. For as long as she could remember, Justin Radner had lurked in her romantic thoughts.

“How do you feel?” he asked when they reached the kitchen.

“I'm fine. Ready to do it again.” She made herself say this even though she longed to collapse into the easy chair again.
No pain, no gain,
she reminded herself.

She twisted her fingers out of his grasp and marched toward the back bedroom. Her calves burned but she kept going. If prison had taught her one thing, it was to never show weakness. She walked briskly until she was in the bedroom she was using, her toes up against a black duffel with
Boston Globe
in white script. David had stuffed her things into one of his duffels when he'd discovered she had more clothes than would fit into the satchel she'd brought to the apartment. She pivoted, ready to do it again, or fall flat on her face trying.

Justin was right behind her. He held up his hand. “Whoa! That's enough for now.”

She set her chin high and sailed by him just the way she would have a prison guard.
Show no fear.
In this case, she wasn't afraid of Justin; she was afraid of being too weak physically to defend herself. Who knew what would come next? She had to be prepared, to rely on herself.

Justin grabbed her and pulled her so close that her breasts flattened against the solid wall of his torso. The rapid rise and fall of his chest sent her pulse skittering. “Don't overdo it. You'll have a relapse and it'll take longer to recover.”

His breath feathered the wisps of hair at her temples. Her throat went dry, but heat throbbed in her veins, then shafted downward, warming her lower tummy and thighs. Face facts, Kat told herself, she'd always been a sucker for Justin Radner. His gaze met hers and another rush of heat surged to the area between her thighs. The air between them was suddenly charged with sexual attraction.

Before she could utter a word, his mouth slanted over hers. His lips were moist and firm, the way they'd been when he'd kissed her before, but this time there seemed to be…an urgency to the kiss as well as a tenderness that she hadn't felt with previous kisses. The faint prickling of his emerging beard heightened the sensation. Her already weakened legs turned to rubber and she sagged against him. His arms supported her like bands of steel while his tongue nudged between her lips.

Oh, my.

His tongue filled her mouth, mating with hers, the way she'd imagined over and over and over in her dreams. Desire, dark and urgent, swept through her, eradicating rational thought. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back for all she was worth.

She craved each touch, each movement of his mouth, his powerful body. The reality was even more exciting than anything she'd ever dreamed. Kissing Justin was so much…more thrilling than she ever could have anticipated. Why stop here? her body asked. Why?

She'd never felt like this in her whole life. True, she hardly had any experience with men, but this seemed to be so much
more
than she expected. This was the
bomb!
She was almost dizzy with the heat suffusing her body. One of his hands crept downward to cup her bottom, and she couldn't resist the urge to rub her chest sensuously against his torso. Her nipples were tight nubs while her breasts felt heavy and aching with pleasure as she moved. His hard, swollen penis pressed against her belly from behind his fly.

His hand caressed her buttocks, then inched upward under her blouse. She pulled back, still kissing him, still clinging to him, to allow space for his hand to touch her. He cradled one breast in his palm while he slowly traced his thumb across her erect nipple. A purring sound rose from deep in her throat.

Don't stop,
she silently prayed. If someone was going to kill her, Kat wanted to go to the afterlife knowing what it was to really make love to someone. Instinct told her Justin wouldn't be a wham-bammer like Corbin. As if reading her thoughts, Justin swooped her up in his arms and carried her over to the bed. Gently he lowered her to the sheets and in the dim light coming from the luminous dial of the alarm clock she saw the blaze of heat in his eyes as he gazed down at her. His breathing uneven, he traced the high arches of her cheekbones, then eased his fingertips into her hair.

Kat's whole body quivered with amazement that he could want her as much as she wanted him. Sensing his desire, her pulse kicked up another notch. Maybe his burgeoning erection had taken over his brain. This was a man who could have any woman he wanted. This might just be about sex and nothing more.

Who cares? Right now, she needed him to make love to her. If it meant more to her than it did to him, Kat was willing to take the risk. Who knew what tomorrow might bring? She could indulge in soul-searching later.

He angled his body across hers. “Am I too heavy?” he whispered.

“No.” Actually, she found his size, his weight reassuring.

She slid her arms around his neck and surveyed the shadowed contours of his face while he unbuttoned her blouse. He brushed the panels aside, revealing the soft mounds. Cool air whisked across her heated flesh, and goose bumps like pinpricks sprang up.

“Damn,” he muttered. “You're beautiful.”

She'd never thought of herself as beautiful. Her “assets,” as her mother called them, were small compared to Tori's, but there was no mistaking the reverence in Justin's tone. Now, in this moment, she did feel beautiful.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

K
AT GAZED UP
at Justin through her long eyelashes. His hands pulled out of her hair and slowly trailed downward, caressing her cheeks and neck, finally coming to rest on her taut nipples.

“I've wanted you since the moment I set eyes on you,” he told her.

“Really? When I was a fat kid?” She was justifiably proud of her irreverent tone.

He paused and smiled at her, his thumbs still on her nipples. “I wish I did remember you back then, but I didn't pay much attention to younger kids.”

Unless they looked like Tori,
she silently amended.

“But when I spotted you outside Jo Mama's, I was a goner.”

This was something, she supposed. A belated victory. Once again she thought about the way prison had changed her. Hell on earth had made her tougher—and more attractive.
What doesn't kill you makes you stronger.
Her father used to tell her that. Now she knew what he meant.

“I wanted you, too,” she admitted. She'd always had a thing for Justin, but the night when Hank Bullock had attacked her in Jo Mama's parking lot marked a milestone. She'd never been so physically close to him before that evening. The impression he'd made had been powerful. She hadn't been able to get him out of her mind since.

“Make love to me,” she heard herself whisper.

“What in bejesus do you think I'm doing?”

“Who knows? You're takin' your sweet time.”

His pupils had dilated until they were black with a narrow rim of Arctic blue around them. He whispered in a raw, thick voice, “Are you a virgin?”

“No!” she snapped back. Undoubtedly, he believed the ugly duckling had never had sex and it bothered him.

“Thank God for small favors.”

He sounded so relieved it was all she could do not to punch him. Then she stopped herself. A virgin was a huge responsibility, and Justin realized this. Corbin Gutcheon had not. Her first and only sexual experience had been a disaster because the man knew she had no experience but never thought about anyone except himself. At least Justin cared enough to ask.

With a sigh, she surrendered. She wanted him inside her with such intensity that she was dizzy with anticipation. Get a grip, her mind kept telling her, but Kat's body had other ideas.

 

C
HILL
, J
USTIN TOLD HIMSELF
, but it was impossible. Beneath him was the sexiest, most erotic creature he'd ever envisioned. How had this happened? A parade of women had tromped through his life, but not until now—until Kat—had a woman made such an impression on him. He wanted her, sure, but even more he was desperate to protect her. Who wanted her dead? He hadn't a clue, and it frustrated him more than he could say.

“Kiss me again,” she whispered, her voice low, seductive.

“I want you to understand,” he said, then forgot what he wanted her to know. She pivoted in his arms, turning just a degree but the friction of the movement sent scores of nerves in his body tingling. Aw hell, what was she doing to him?

He didn't blame Kat. She wasn't a virgin, but she wasn't experienced enough to play him like a fish on the hook. Her moves were uncalculated. She wasn't like other women who took seduction to the highest level.

Kat was different, special. She had a guileless, emotional honesty that he found refreshing. And intriguing.

For a moment, he regretted she'd been with another man. He couldn't be jealous, could he? Okay, he conceded, maybe he was a tad jealous. Justin longed to know who her lover had been. Had he left her to face prison by herself? Then, suddenly, unexpectedly he didn't care. She was his now. His alone.

Kat's tousled hair was fanned against the pillow. The glimmer of light from the hall kindled her red highlights. He'd dreamed about having her on her back like this, but the reality was so much more pleasurable. He needed to make this good for her, to bond her to him in a special way that only true intimacy could accomplish.

Her arms encircled his neck and held tight. His lips touched hers, and he stopped thinking while he kissed her. His erection had become painful now, begging for release, but he couldn't rush it. He wanted her to remember this night forever. She'd had sex, but there couldn't have been that many men in her life. He needed to be exceptional.

Justin unzipped her shorts, then hooked his thumbs in the waistband and yanked them downward. She wasn't wearing any panties. He sucked in a gulp of air to keep from losing it. Her shorts slid down her trim thighs, and she wiggled her legs to free herself.

Justin reared back on his knees, inhaling sharply, his breathing harsh, unsteady. She tugged at his shoulders as he unzipped his cargo shorts, shimmied out of them, freeing his erection. With one knee, he nudged her thighs apart, then rested between them. His heart thundered against his ribs as if this were a marathon. He forced himself to try to breathe normally. This wasn't a race. They had all night.

With heavy-lidded eyes, he gazed down at her for a moment, not saying anything. Damn, Kat was beautiful. He'd told her that a few minutes ago, and she'd seemed startled. Hadn't anyone ever told her how pretty she was? What about the creep who'd taken her virginity? Hadn't he appreciated the way she looked, the interesting person she was?

Where had she been his whole life? It seemed as if he'd been journeying toward this moment for years.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked, a warning note in his voice.

She pressed her hand flat against his nosily beating heart. “You bet I'm sure.”

There was a quaver in her voice, but he barely noticed. With one fluid movement, he shucked the T-shirt and threw it to the side. It landed on Redd's rump. The dog was watching them intently.

Kat's lips were parted and she gazed up at him with adoring eyes. He lowered his mouth to her round, soft breast and flicked his tongue across the beaded nipple. Her body shuddering, Kat arched upward, tilting her pelvis against him. Her nails dug into his shoulders, and he smiled inwardly. She wanted him just as fiercely as he wanted her.

He gave her other breast its due and sucked on the nipple greedily. He eased one hand between her thighs. There he discovered the slick, wet proof of her desire. She was ready for him, but he wanted her at the brink. She gasped as he stroked between the folds of soft, moist skin and found the tiny bud.

“Hurry!” She squeezed her thighs against his hand.

Justin had no intention of speeding up the pace, even though his erection felt ready to explode. Rolling the nubbin with his thumb, he slipped one finger inside her. The moist sheathing heat sent his pulse skyrocketing. She moaned with pleasure and rocked her hips, arching off the mattress. He slowly withdrew his finger, then burrowed two fingers into the wet channel.

“Oh, wow! Wow!” she cried.

The relentless heat scorched Justin's skin, and he pulsed with the burning need to take her this second. His breath erupted in short bursts that caused pain to lance through his side. He trembled with the need to possess her. He managed to hold himself in check even though his jutting penis throbbed to be deep in her sweet body. He was vaguely aware of a distant, chiming noise.

“Your phone,” Kat muttered.

“Oh, crap!” He recognized the distinctive sound now. “It's the station. Something must be wrong.”

He rolled to his side, his erection ramrod straight, hot and throbbing. It took a moment of fumbling in the dark to locate his cargo shorts and pull his cell phone out of the pocket.

Gazing up at the ceiling, Kat groaned out loud. From what Justin was saying, he was going to leave her to go out on a call. Just her luck!

“It's the Randolphs next door,” he told her, his voice raw. “The prick's beating up his wife again.” With a grimace, he pulled on his shorts and managed to get his penis inside, although a quick glance would tell anyone he had an erection. “I won't be long. The gun's in the nightstand.”

“I know,” she managed to say. “I saw it this afternoon.”

“You're not going to need it.” He bent over and kissed her forehead. “I'll be back in no time. I'll leave Redd with you for company.” He pointed to the old-fashioned rotary telephone on the nightstand. “Call if you need me.”

 

G
ROGGY WITH SLEEP
, Kat opened her eyes. Where was she? It was too dark, too quiet to be prison. Of course not. She had been released on a furlough. If she let her mind stay there long enough, she would
feel
the prison walls closing in around her. She forced herself to think, and by degrees, reality tiptoed into her muzzy brain. She was in bed, at Justin's home, where she'd been when he'd received the phone call.

What had awakened her? She glanced at the luminous dial of the clock on the nightstand. Justin had been gone for almost an hour. What was keeping him? Her heart thumped noisily as cold-blooded fear took over her body.

Someone's out there.

It's probably Justin, she decided, but she strained to listen for another sound. She waited…and waited. All she could hear was the low, rhythmic wheeze of the swamp cooler in the living room. Redd was curled up asleep on the throw rug beside her bed. Dogs had more acute hearing than people, didn't they? If she'd actually been awakened by a noise, it hadn't bothered the dog.

Listen,
a voice in her head insisted. Trying not to freak, she scooted to a sitting position, pulled up her legs, and rested her chin on her knees while she strained to hear something besides the air conditioner. Nothing. It must have been her imagination working overtime.

Where was Justin? He'd said he would be right back. Being alone in the house, so far from everything was creeping her out—big time.

Get over it. You're okay. No one's out there.

Rationally, she knew no one was around, but she'd feel a lot better if Justin were in bed with her. She groped for the lamp on the nightstand. To soothe her nerves, she could read until Justin came home.

Her hand on the lamp's switch, she froze. A noise. This time Redd heard it, too. A low growl rumbled from his throat as he lurched to his feet. She detected a dull click that seemed to have come from the kitchen. Maybe it was the back door that opened to the yard.

There was probably a logical explanation for the sound, she reassured herself. The refrigerator might have cycled on. The darkness and the still house magnified any noise. Redd growled again, and the fine hairs on the back of her neck shot upward.

She slid open the drawer in the nightstand and grabbed the gun. How would anyone know she was here?
Duh!
How many places could she be? A determined person could find her easily.

Guns had safety catches, didn't they? By the light of the alarm clock, she examined the weapon. It was cold in her hand and had a deadly gleam. She didn't see any catch to disengage.

Redd growled again, and the fur on his back bristled upward like a hedgehog's. She wished he would bark. That might frighten off an intruder, but she knew the dog wouldn't be much protection. Not only did Redd jump at his own shadow, golden retrievers didn't rank up there in the guard dog category.

Holding the gun, she tiptoed across the small room to her pile of clothes and slipped into a pair of shoes she'd pulled from her things earlier that afternoon. Thankfully, she'd been sleeping in her shorts and T-shirt.

Another faint click.

Redd snarled and bared his teeth. Now the house was deadly silent; only the low wheeze of the swamp cooler filled the darkness. If someone was there, he was as silent as a cat.

She reached for the telephone. The old-fashioned rotary dial must be a legacy of the previous owner. It was going to make noise, but she had no alternative. She hadn't recharged her cell. Even if this turned out to be a false alarm, it was better to be safe than sorry.

The line was dead.

She gripped the gun to her breast and silently prayed the phone had malfunctioned. After all, it was older than Egyptian dirt. Justin used his cell all the time. He might not have known the land line was out.

And pigs might fly.

It was just too much of a coincidence to hear a noise, have a growling dog, and find the phone dead. Someone was here. Were they in the house yet or lurking outside?

She slipped out of bed, tiptoed to the door, and kept her body out of sight as she peered around the doorjamb. The porch light was yellow and cast a golden sheen across the small living room. No one was there—unless they were behind the couch, out of her view.

A floorboard creaked and she nearly screamed. Someone was in the kitchen.
Go out the bedroom window,
an inner voice urged. She ventured across the room to the only window. The lever lock released with a low ping that sounded like a shot in the dark house. She paused, expecting to hear footsteps.

Nothing.

She pushed on the window. It wouldn't budge. She put the gun on the sill and used both hands to shove harder, but it didn't do any good. The window must have been painted shut or something.

“Going somewhere?” The deep, guttural voice filled the room.

A huge ape of a man stood in the doorway, blocking her only escape route. The air left her lungs in a low moan. Fangs bared, Redd trotted over to her side.

“What do you want?” She tried to sound tough, the way she had been in prison. Taking advantage of the darkness, she reached behind her back for the gun on the sill.

“Whoo-ee! I could use me some pussy.”

Numb with terror, she realized he had a gun in his hand, and it was aimed at her. Somehow she managed to get the revolver off the sill. She kept it behind her back, saying, “Justin will be back any minute. He—”

“Will find a dumb cunt tied spread-eagle to his bed.”

BOOK: Half Past Dead
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