Aim to Kill (41 page)

They stood like that for several moments.

Zack spoke first. “I was so angry when you told me the truth. It hurt. You didn’t trust me, just like my sister hadn’t trusted me. You expected the worst—that I would somehow stop you from avenging your sister’s murder. Amy also thought I would stop her from doing what she thought was right.

“Were you right? Hell, I don’t know. I’ve made decisions every day of my life, and I wonder whether some of them were right. I might not agree with your reasoning, but I understand why you got involved. And if it weren’t for you breaking the rules, Nina
Markow
could be dead right now.”

He turned around to face her. Tears shone in her eyes. He didn’t want to make her cry. The thought of Olivia sad made him ache. “We would never have learned Driscoll’s identity without your information on Brian Hall. You were a vital part of this investigation, and whether you have a gold shield or not, you’ve earned one as far as I’m concerned.”

Olivia closed her eyes, a tight smile on her face. “Thank you for that.”

“Open your eyes, sweetheart.” He pushed up her chin so she had to look at him. “I love you,
Liv
. I’m not going to let you walk away because of your misplaced guilt, or my misplaced anger. There’s something incredible between us, and I want to explore it. Fully. Intimately. Starting now.”

He kissed her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and held on, and he ravished her lips, her neck, her ear. He’d missed Olivia last night, missed her and needed her. All his pent-up frustrations, his love, his desire, poured from him into her. He couldn’t get close enough, he wanted to touch her all at once.

She entwined his hair in her hands, holding on tight.

“Make love to me, Zack,” she whispered in his ear.

He pushed the suitcase to the floor and they fell on the bed, urgent. His lips clasped onto hers while his fingers fumbled with the buttons on her blouse. One popped off, but he didn’t care. He needed to touch all of her, see all of her.

The sight of her injuries gave him pause.

“Zack?” she asked, frowning.

He lightly kissed her neck, the bandage on her chest. “I almost lost you forever. The thought of his hands on you, the knife cutting your delicate skin.” He cleared his throat. “
Liv
, I—”

“
Shh
,” she said, and kissed him.

“Are you okay?” he murmured into her lips. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

She shook her head. “I’m really fine, Zack. I promise. Don’t hold back. Make love to me.
Now.
”

She kissed him long and hard, her passion edging him further down the dark spiral. The hope he’d thought was gone came back in a rush. The trust he thought he’d lost flooded him. This woman was his life. Olivia gave him everything he’d thought he lost when his mother abandoned him and when his sister died.

Olivia wanted Zack, needed to reconnect with what they’d had two nights ago. And it was there, everything she’d thought they had was still there, and stronger.

Their tongues battled and she moaned as his hands reached under her bra and gently massaged her breasts as he kissed her, his knee spreading her legs. He was cautious, avoiding her wounds.

Zack unclasped her bra and put his mouth to her breasts, his rough cheeks and hot mouth creating a wondrous sensation she savored. She held his head to her, urging him to continue. Urging him to move farther down to where she was already hot between her legs.

Zack’s forgiveness, his love, his need, spurred Olivia on. She pulled off her blouse and bra, reached for Zack’s shirt and pulled it over his head. His hard, sizzling chest pressed against her breasts. She reveled in her newfound sexuality, a side of her brought out only by this man.

In this highly-charged moment neither wanted slow and sweet. Zack stripped off her pants and kissed her between the legs. She gasped.

“Your skin is so soft,” he murmured against her thigh.

As he spoke, his coarse stubble rubbed against her clit and she moaned.

“Zack,” she gasped, her mouth dry.

His breath and his tongue teased and tantalized her. The kisses were warm and wet as his tongue ran along the sides of her labia, around and around, lapping her everywhere except that one spot that craved attention.

Then he hit the spot and she grabbed the bedspread in her hands as her back spontaneously arched to give him full access. She heard nothing, saw nothing, her entire body responding to Zack’s ministrations.

She was on the verge, gasping and wanting him to stop and continue at the same time. But when he pulled back, she shivered at the lost connection. He kissed her stomach, her breasts, kneading and massaging her, her intense heat tempered as he slowed the pace.

“Zack, make love to me.”

He stood and stripped off his pants. His body was hard, lean; Zack was the poster boy for tall, dark, and handsome. Handsome? Try to-die-for sexy.

She wriggled in anticipation. She wanted more.

He lay on her and she moved beneath, his chest pressing against hers a powerful sensation.

“I want you, Olivia.” He spread her legs and plunged in. She bit down a startled cry as an orgasm surprised her.

He didn’t go slow. He kissed her hard as he urgently made love to her, faster and harder until a second orgasm spiraled up, up, ready to take her away.

“
Livia
, I love you. Oh God I love you.” He strained and they were coming together, hot and sweaty, hands clenched together, souls entwined.

Her body trembled beneath his.

“I take it we’re okay now?” she asked, tentatively.

“Okay? I thought that was better than okay.” He smiled and kissed her. “Yes, we’re okay.” He touched her hair, her lips. “I love you,
Liv
. We’re going to make this work.”

Her lips trailed from his mouth, across his rough face, to his ears. Her hands fisted in his hair, hair nearly as long as hers. She kissed his neck, her tongue feeling his pulse beating a rhythm.

Now that the urgency was over, they could take the time to fully explore each other.

Zack matched her exploration, his kisses coming harder, his mouth sucking her neck, her chest, down to her breasts. She gasped when he drew a firm nipple into his mouth, her entire body on fire. She thought she wouldn’t be ready to make love so soon, but she found herself craving him again.

Zack rolled over and she found herself on the top.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Wrong? Nothing. I thought you might enjoy being in charge.”

She hesitated. She’d never done anything like this before. She’d never been wild and playful in bed. She didn’t know quite where to start.

Zack must have sensed her insecurity because he said, “Kiss me,
Liv
.”

She did, and her nervousness faded away.

She explored with her hands, her breasts teasing his nipples, her hips rocking against his. She didn’t feel as petite while sitting on top; she became empowered.

His hands never stopped, roaming up and down her back, massaging, touching, molding her bottom, her thighs, her hips. She gasped when his penis jerked against her, hard and long, and she reached down and touched it, its velvety softness over the firm length quite erotic.

Every touch made her hotter, more desperate to make love. She kissed him long, tasting his lips, his tongue, his neck. He tasted salty and rich, deliciously hot and spicy.

She looked down and saw his hardened length reach for her, as if it had a mind of its own. On instinct—because she’d never been on top before—she tilted her pelvis up and with her hand, guided him into her. She watched him enter her, gasping from the erotic sight as well as the feeling of him moving within her.

He moaned, reaching up and grasping her hair.

She eased down slowly. She was small, tight, and he—wasn’t. He filled her. But she was ready for him, ready to make love, and finally pushed all the way down, gasping as he jerked inside her, sending electric shocks through her body.

He grasped her hands and squeezed. She was the novice here, but he was letting her take the lead. She found a rhythm that seemed to please him as much as her. He moaned, his neck muscles taut.

“You’re driving me crazy,” he whispered. “I’m not going to last if you keep doing that.”

“You want me to stop?” she teased.

“No.”

“Good, I wasn’t going to.”

Never in her life had she felt more feminine, more like a real, whole woman than she did now, entwined with Zack. She moved up and down, faster. Hot, sweating, she wanted release.

Zack couldn’t take his eyes off Olivia as she enjoyed her newfound sexuality. Her head tilted forward as she concentrated on the sensations they created together. Her little gasps when she rubbed her clit into him on the
downstroke
.

He wanted to urge her on, faster, but he loved watching her experience something so new and powerful for her. Every muscle in his body tightened as he fought to maintain control. He wanted to give her the power, to show her how much he loved and trusted her.

She began moving faster, up and down, her head falling backward, revealing her neck. Zack had to force himself not to stare at the bandage. He’d almost lost her. But here she was, alive and free and all his. He’d give her the world if he could. He would keep her safe forever. Never allow her to be hurt again.

With Olivia, Zack had the right woman, the woman who completed him, who freely gave her passion and her love.

She moaned, her body slick with sweat and desire, his body vibrating with passion. He placed his hands on her hips and pushed her fully down on him, his cock reaching her cervix, her body hot and tight around him.

“Oh
Liv
,” he moaned.

Her gasps took on a higher tone and her body shook from head to toe, vibrating with an orgasm that rocked him into his own release. He held her tight as their shared spiral reached a fevered pitch, then her body melted onto his, her skin hot to the touch, her breathing heavy and satisfied.

“Zack.” Her voice was a mere whisper as she kissed his chest with hot, feather kisses. “That was . . . well. I can’t begin to describe it.”

“You don’t have to.” He cleared his throat. “We’ll have a lot of time to practice as you find the words.”

“There are no words in the dictionary that come close to describing how I feel right now.”

He rolled her off him and only then realized they hadn’t used a condom. He wasn’t usually that careless, but the thought disturbed him only briefly.

He planned to spend the rest of his life making Olivia happy. He had no intention of letting her go. So whatever happened, they were in it together.

Kissing her all over her face, he said, “Come home with me. Take some time off.”

She tensed next to him and he propped his head on his hand. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m going to Virginia tomorrow.”

“But—
Liv
, we worked it out, didn’t we? You know I want you with me.”

Olivia wanted nothing more than to stay with Zack. She didn’t even want to get out of bed again. But she owed it to Greg for helping her, and Rick for standing up for her, to face the disciplinary board and answer their questions.

She had broken the rules, and while Rick was doing everything he could to protect her job, she still had to stand up for what she’d done.

“I have to go back. I broke the rules; I have to face the music. I owe it to Greg, who also has to face the disciplinary board.”

“I’ll write a letter about how valuable you were to the investigation.”

She smiled. “Quinn told me that Chief Pierson was giving me a commendation, and Bureau Chief Clark has written a letter for me. But I still need to be there; you understand that, don’t you?”

“Yes,” he said, obviously not happy about it.

“I’ll be back when I can.”

“I may end up in Virginia faster than that.” He held her tight. “I’m not going to lose you,
Liv
. You know that, right?”

“I know,” she whispered. “You’d really come out to Virginia?”

“I promised you a vacation. I’ve never been to the East Coast except for a training conference years ago.”

“I can show you the sights. Autumn is beautiful out there.”

“And then we can really talk, okay?”

She nodded. “Okay.”

He kissed her once, twice, three times. “We’ll work everything out,
Liv
.” He kissed her again. “I promise.”

“In Seattle this morning a man police suspect of brutally murdering thirty-two children was shot and killed by the father of one of his alleged victims. Fifty-four-year-old Christopher Adam Driscoll was pronounced dead at the scene, and Paul Benedict, father of murdered nine-year-old Jennifer Benedict, was arrested.

“Police Chief Lance Pierson said . . . “

Brian sat on the park bench that Sunday afternoon, listening to the news on a handheld radio, awestruck.

That bastard Driscoll was dead.

Brian couldn’t feel an ounce of remorse for the asshole who’d framed him for that girl’s murder. He deserved to die, though Brian would have liked to see how Driscoll would have fared in prison.