Dead Case in Deadwood (29 page)

"Where?"

Grabbing his hand, I tugged him to the narrow back stairwell
that led from his kitchen up to his bedroom. His broad shoulders practically
rubbed the walls in the cramped space.

"Shut the door," I told him.

He did, shrouding us in darkness. He moved forward to climb
the stairs, but I blocked his path. We stumbled, his hands catching me before I
fell onto the steps.

"Doc," I whispered in the black silence, drawing
him against me.

"What?" his quiet tone matched mine.

"Here. Where you first kissed me. I want to finish what
we started."

"It’s a little cramped."

"We’ll manage."

"I have a new bed, you know," his breath fanned my
forehead.

"I know."

"Horizontal sex would be a nice change."

I climbed one step to be more level with him. "Humor me."

He pressed me up against the wall, just like he had a month
ago. "You’re missing your boots."

"I’m missing my shirt, too."

His hands double-checked, his thumbs circling, flicking,
lighting me up.

"Violet." His lips brushed mine.

"What?" I writhed under his touch, lifting my knee
to rub my inner thigh up and down his leg.

"What do you have on under your boxers?"

"See for yourself."

"It’s too dark."

I led his hand. "Feel your way."

He did, his fingers skimming, strumming, exploring. I swayed
against him, the tightness inside of me swirling faster and faster. The heel of
his palm rubbed against the front of my pelvic bone, adding a dizzying pressure.

I gasped.

He cradled the back of my head with his free hand, kissing
me hard and deep. The taste of beer and Doc made me push my hips into his
touch, wanting more, needing more.

"Is this what you wanted, Boots?" he asked between
breaths.

I didn’t have it in me to speak, only moan. The tightness
spread up through my abdomen.

He increased the pace and friction.

"I want to feel you let loose, Violet." He
whispered in my ear, his deep voice deliciously seductive, making me shiver.

I panted, writhed, and pressed his hand harder against me. "Don’t
stop."

He didn’t.

"And when you’re done," he said. "I want to
taste you."

Yesssssssssss!

"Oh, my—Doc!" I cried out. The tremors started
deep inside and rippled outward, sapping me. I clung to his shoulders to keep
from sliding to a heap on the steps.

He held me up, leaning into me, pushing me against the wall.
"You’re so damned sexy, Boots," he said and found my mouth, this time
with a gentler touch.

I moaned, missing him when he pulled his hand away from me.

His mouth hovered over mine. "I need to be inside of
you now."

I shimmied out of my boxers and reached for his shorts. He
caught my hand. "I’ll do it."

"I’ll be gentle," I said.

He let go. "You need to be fast."

His shorts hit the floor, then his briefs. I snuck in one touch
before he hauled my leg up again and eased in.

"God, I missed you," he said in a growly voice.

"Show me."

He did, slamming me against the wall.

"Is that all you got?" I taunted, shifting my hips
to take more of him.

"Vixen!" Then his lips shut me up as his body
wooed mine with a captivating rhythm that raced faster and faster.

This time, he beat me to the finish line, stilling for a
couple of heartbeats as his groans echoed in the narrow stairwell.

I rocked my hips against him, luring more from him.

"Holy shit, Violet," he shuddered against me. "What
are you doing to me?" He growled low in his throat and shoved deeper into
me.

"I’m so close," I whispered, hovering on the edge
of pleasure.

He lifted me fully off the step. "Wrap your legs around
me."

I obeyed and he shifted, lighting my fuse in a few strokes.
I gasped his name again, clinging to his damp skin. He kept going until I
stopped pulsing around him and lowered my feet to the floor. Then he buried his
fingers in my hair, tipping my head back.

Butterfly kisses brushed over my face in the dark, melting
my heart even more.

"Doc," I breathed in the delicious scent of him
and sex, hungry for more.

"Hmmm?"

"Take me to bed."

"I thought you’d never ask." He led me up the steps
and into his bedroom, leaving the overhead light off.

His room smelled fresh, the cool air coming in through the
broken window filled the room with a clean, pine scent.

"Wait," he said, and picked me up, carrying me
around the field of broken glass.

"Wasn’t there a screen on that window when you moved
in?" All of his other windows had screens; I knew that for a fact as his
Realtor.

"It was slain by a rail during the bed delivery."
He set me down on the bed.

I bounced a little, testing its softness, and smiled at him
in the shadows as he slid onto the bed next to me and leaned on his elbow.

"You have magic hands and fingers," I said.

The objects of discussion trailed over my breasts and down
around my bellybutton. "You have unbelievably soft skin."

"It’s the peanut butter fudge ice cream I lather in
every night."

"That reminds me of something I can’t stop fantasizing
about. How long can you stay?"

"Until dawn."

"Then you turn into a pumpkin?"

"Or a mouse, take your pick."

He rolled onto his back and pulled me with him. I straddled
him, sitting upright. He tucked his hands behind his head. "I like this
view."

I rocked against him and he stopped me. "Not yet. Tell
me what happened the other night when I left you at Cornelius’s hotel room."

I hesitated, unsure how much to admit. Now that I’d had a
full twenty-four hours to think about the whole Wolfgang thing, my anxieties
seemed silly. It was just another nightmare, probably made more intense due to
not being home and in my own bed.

"Violet, tell me."

Diving in, I said, "Well, Cornelius gave each of us a
task. Mine was to run the recorder to pick up any random ghost chatter. He
turned the lights down, started doing this weird chanting, and then …" I
hesitated.

"Then what?"

"Then I fell asleep."

Doc chuckled. "I’m sorry I missed that."

When I didn’t smile in return, his face sobered. "What?
Did something happen?"

I shrugged. "Sort of."

He waited, his eyebrows raised.

"I had another nightmare."

"During the séance?"

"Yeah. Only it was different." I hesitated again,
anxious about how he’d react to my dream.

He nudged me with a slight thrust of his hips. "Keep
going."

"Wolfgang was there, which isn’t really anything new.
He’s often in my nightmares. But this time he caught on fire and melted right
in front of me."

"Oh, Christ." Doc sat up and gathered me in his
arms, tucking my head under his chin. "I should have stayed with you."

"It gets worse."

He eased me back, watching and waiting.

Taking a deep breath, I told him what I hadn’t told Aunt
Zoe. "Wolfgang opened his mouth and grabbed it like this." I showed
him. "And then he tore his face open and his skull cracked and this black
demon-looking thing came out." I shivered just thinking about it. "It
had bumpy skin with pustules all over it and these twisty little horns, long sharp
teeth and a little snout."

"Damn."

"Then it called me by my name, and when I answered, it
screamed at me, covering my face with bloody spit."

He drew a breath between clenched teeth. "Gross. What
did it say?"

"It told me to get out." I blinked away the memory
and looked at him, trying to read his thoughts from the creases lining his
mouth, his forehead. "Doc, do you think I’m going crazy?"

He tipped my chin up and kissed me—no lust, just slow and
simple.

"No, I don’t." A slight smile curved his lips. "But
you should probably try to avoid taking naps during séances in the future."

"I’m sorry about that whole Cornelius mess I dragged
you into. I swear I didn’t know he was—"

Doc’s hand over my mouth shushed me. "I shouldn’t have
left you there. I was just messed up from what I was picking up in the hotel,
and when I realized what I was walking into, I got pissed, which was stupid. And
then I took it out on you, which was even worse."

We stared at each other for several seconds in silence.

Shit. I was going to have to break my best friend’s heart.

I grabbed Doc by the sides of his head and crushed his lips
with mine. As my tongue explored his mouth, I rubbed against him, dragging more
groans and growls from him.

He clutched my hips, but instead of helping with my rhythm,
he held me still and pulled slightly away. His gaze was dark with lust, but
focused. "Violet?"

"What?" I tried to kiss him again, but he shook
his head.

"Hold on. Tell me something. What color were the demon’s
eyes?"

I’d much rather have talked about the color of Doc’s eyes,
but I answered, hoping we could get back to the good stuff. "Orange.
Glowing."

Doc rolled me off of him, leaving me in a heap on the bed.

"Hey!" I said, sitting up. "Where are you
going?"

Muffled thumps came from his closet. Then he came back to
bed, turning on the light on the bedside table before crawling in next to me.

I stared at the book he held in his hand—Lila’s freaky book
that I’d found at the Carhart house weeks ago. "If that’s your idea of
erotic reading material to spice up our sex life, I’d prefer something with
happier cartoons in it."

"We don’t need any spice, Boots. All I have to do is
think about you naked." He flipped through several pages, then stopped,
his lips flat-lining. "Those twisty little horns you mentioned reminded me
of something. What you said about its eyes cinched it."

"What?"

"This." He held the book out to me, showing me a drawing
on one of the pages. "It’s called Kyrkozz. The description matches yours."

Kyrkozz?
Why did that sound familiar?

I took the book from him, my breath catching.

"Is that your demon?" he asked.

"Yes," I whispered, staring down at my nightmare.

Kyrkozz.

The leading star of my nightmare had a previous billing in
Lila’s story. Now the question was why had my brain given him a role in the newest
Violet Parker scream-queen blockbuster?

An icy finger of dread scratched down my spine, trailing
goosebumps. What if it was real? What if it wasn’t just a nightmare? What if
Cornelius had opened some door that had allowed Kyrkozz to come through? What
if—
stop!

I took a deep breath, blocking out the hysterical voice in
my brain.

No, I must have seen this picture of the demon before when
I’d flipped through the pages of the book. This was just one of those cases
where I had plucked bits and pieces of my waking life and cast them into my
dream world.

Yes, that had to be the deal. Otherwise … well, otherwise
the worry-etched lines around Doc’s eyes and mouth meant his concern was for
more than my mental well-being. Something to do with his own guarded world, his
own demons.

Scrubbing my hand down my face, I fell back onto Doc’s bed.
If I could just slow this slide into insanity until I got the kids through high
school, they could avoid the "my-mother-lost-her-marbles" leg of the
talk-show circuit.

"Violet?" Doc took the book back and tossed it on
the bedside table. "It may be a coincidence."

He didn’t sound entirely convinced, though.

The bed shifted. He drew me against his warmth, his lips
brushing my temple.

"You’re exhausted, more than a little stressed,
frustrated with your job, and trying to support a family." He traced the
contours of my face. "Cut yourself some slack."

Doc was right. He had to be. But he was scrambling my brains
even more with his gentle touches and soothing words, making me wonder what it
would be like to share more of my life with him than just stolen moments like
these.

"I should probably go home," I said, hiding behind
closed eyelids. It was safer there.

His fingers kept tracing, lulling me.

"I’m sorry about your window," I said just above
whisper level several minutes later.

"Shhh." His hand moved to my hair.

My eyes stayed closed, my muscles softening, my body melting
into the mattress.

"This is a very nice new bed." I yawned. "I
can’t remember where my shorts are."

He trailed his fingers down to my arm, lightly grazing my
skin. I snuggled deeper into his body heat.

"Maybe I’ll just take a little …"

Sleep sucked me under its black waves.

The next thing I knew, the crows were making their usual
morning ruckus.

I pushed upright with a gasp and looked around.

Doc’s bed.

Sunlight shining through the broken window.

The sound of a shower coming through the open door of the
attached bathroom.

"Oh, no," I whispered, tumbled from the tangle of
sheets onto the floor, and wobbled onto my feet.

The shower shut off.

Where was my shirt? Flashes from last night’s activities
before I’d blacked out into oblivion replayed in my head.

"Nice," Doc said from the bathroom doorway, his
towel cinched at his hips, his hair wet and spiky, his jaw shadowed with
whiskers.

Wincing at the not-so-sexy picture I must be, I grabbed a
pillow and hid behind it.

He leaned on the doorjamb. "It’s too late for that. I
got an eyeful while you were sleeping."

Dear God, naked and ass-up in broad daylight. I’d probably
drooled in my sleep, too. Gah! My whole body burned in mortification. "I
have to go."

"Your clothes are on the end of the bed, under the
sheet."