Hot Pursuit (16 page)

Taylor was sprawled in a lounger on the back deck, three brown bottles—empty ones, she guessed—sitting close to where his hand hung over the armrest. His eyes were closed, the colors of the sunset illuminating his blond hair and playing over his muscular chest. Anger rose in her breast, hot and tight.

The stupid cop was asleep. Or passed out stone-cold, more likely. Snoring away on his deck as if he hadn't a care in the world, as if the situation was rosy and there wasn't a homicidal maniac out to smoke his ass.

Stomping up the steps, she marched over to his lounger, grabbed the backrest, and shook the whole chair hard as she yelled at him. “You dumb-ass! What the fuck are you trying to do?”

He came awake, sitting bolt upright, sputtering and reaching for a gun that wasn't there. “Shit!”

“Do you
want
a bullet between the eyes? Want to make sure he doesn't miss this time?” Glaring down at him, she waited for an answer. “Well?”

“Jesus,” he muttered, swiping a hand down his face. “A simple hello would've been fine.”

“What the hell is the matter with you? One blip on our relationship radar and you have a death wish?”

“I'd say my being responsible for your sister's death, not to mention her baby's, is more than just a blip, as you put it.” He looked away.

“Oh no.” Crouching next to him, she gave him a fierce scowl. “You don't get to do that anymore. I'm not listening to that bullshit one more second, and I want you—no, I demand that you—wipe that self-inflicted guilt out of our lives.”

“What?” He gazed up at her, renewed hope lighting his eyes.

“You heard me. Whether this relationship has a chance depends on whether you're going to hang on to the negative energy from that day and use it as a club to beat us both black and blue. If a relationship with me is still something you want to try, that is.”

Taking her hand, he clutched it, rubbing her skin with his thumb. “I do, more than anything. I don't want the past to be a wedge that comes between us.”

“Then you have to stop. Let it go. I realize now there was nothing you could've done differently to change what Connor did. You have to believe it, too. He went nuts, and that was it.”

Searching her face for a long moment, he nodded. “I think I can do that. I know I can, if I have one important thing from you.”

“Anything—whatever you need.” She meant it.

“I need to know that you forgive me.”

Her heart ached for him. Or course he needed that. Had for years, and thought absolution would never be his. And he trusted Cara enough to know that if she gave it to him, she would mean every word.

“Taylor, I forgive you,” she said softly, with every ounce of sincerity in her body. “Whatever you believe there is to forgive you for, I give it to you freely. Please be at peace with this so we can move forward.”

His expression was like the light breaking through the darkest of clouds. His eyes became moist but his handsome face was filled with a joy she hadn't witnessed in him since they'd met.

“For the first time in four years, I've finally found a reason to wake up in the morning and be happy about it. Until this second, I didn't remember what that felt like.”

“I feel the same way.” Leaning forward, she placed a soft kiss on his lips. Touched his face, careful of the bandage at his temple. “I was so scared when I found you out here like this. As though you were waiting for that asshole to come and finish you off.”

“Part of me was,” he confessed. “I couldn't picture you forgiving me after what I told you.”

“I'm so sorry for leaving you feeling that way last night.” She gestured to where the beer bottles sat on the other side of his lounger. “What about your pain meds? Please tell me you weren't drinking while taking them.”

“No. I haven't had any today. Decided I'd rather drown my sorrows. I'm regretting that now.” He grimaced.

“I'll bet. Looks like it's aspirin for you.”

“I know something else that will make me feel better.” Reaching around to cup the back of her head, he pulled her to him and kissed her thoroughly. His tongue delved inside and he tasted like beer, but she didn't mind. Underneath that, he tasted like her man. Clean. Heady.

Arousal sparked, and she was reminded that it had been too long. A few days was too long to be without him surrounding her. She wanted to fix that now.

“I need you,” she said into his lips.

“Not nearly as much as I need you. Let's take this inside, shall we?”

“We could be naughty and do the dirty right here on the patio.”

“And you fussed at me for
sleeping
out here,” he teased. “I don't want to get caught by a killer with my dick out.”

Smiling in spite of the seriousness of that possibility, she rose and held out a hand. “Up, then! Let's go!”

Inside, he made sure all the doors were locked, and then set the house alarm. The reason behind that simple act sobered her some, but not enough to damper her enthusiasm for making love with him.

He led her upstairs, and they tumbled onto his bed with her on top, laughing.

Taylor pressed his lips to hers, scattering her thoughts to the wind. She arched into him, deepening the kiss, seeking his closeness again, his warmth. If he'd tasted good, he smelled fantastic. A hint of his spicy cologne lingered and she wondered what scent he wore. Unable to resist, she rested her palms on the solid wall of his chest, enjoying how the strength vibrated from his taut muscles. The anticipation.

Angling his body, he leaned into her, easing her back onto the bedspread. Following her down, he lay half on top of her, their legs entwined. He buried a hand in her hair, brought a lock to his nose. Inhaled.

She relished his weight on top of her. Solid, strong. She could feel his heart thumping in his chest, hard and fast.

“I love seeing you here,” he breathed. “Not just in my bed, but with me. Connected to me.”

“Yes.”

He kissed her again. Not gentle this time, but hot. Hungry. The kiss of a starving man, too long denied—not sex, but the connection he craved to someone who cared. Deeper, his mouth ravaging, tongue thrusting. She wrapped her arms around him, hands splayed across his back, urging him closer. Loving the play of lean muscle under her fingertips.

Taylor wasn't the only one who'd been denied, she realized. How had this man survived nearly four years of isolation and inner pain, of having no one to hold or comfort him? How had she?

She drank him hungrily, wishing away their clothing. Fantasizing about his lithe, naked body sinking into hers. No sooner had she envisioned it than he made it reality, shedding his jeans and shorts, sheathing himself, and then going to work on her clothes.

Soon she was spread naked under him, which was fast becoming her favorite place to be. She wanted to be ravaged. Taken.

He rubbed her clit and the sensitive folds guarding her entrance with his fingers. Heat unfurled between her thighs, became aching desire. She lifted her hips, seeking.

“Please. I need you inside me.”

Groaning, he positioned his cock at her entrance. Slid deep and began to move with her, driving them both higher. Spirals of pleasure whirled through her belly as he swiveled his hips in pure, sexual rhythm, setting them both afire.

Elbows braced on either side of her head, he quickened the pace. Thrust as if he couldn't possibly get enough. Sank his cock deep inside her sheath again and again. Faster, harder. She clutched at his shoulders with a cry, her orgasm shattering her senses.

Through a languorous haze, she watched as he threw his head back and stiffened. Sunlit hair fell around his face. His eyes were closed, lashes feathered on his cheeks, lips parted. Lost in ecstasy. The muscles of his biceps and neck corded, and his body shuddered. On and on.

He was the most beautiful man she'd ever seen.

Smiling, she ran a finger down one lean cheek. “Wow, you sure know how to kiss.”

Opening his eyes, he gazed down at her and smiled. “I do pride myself on my
kissing
. I pride myself even more on my shower skills.”

“Do you, now?” she asked playfully. “Do you think Taylor Jr. could go another round this soon?”

He arched a brow. “Hey, I'm not twenty-one anymore but I know how to please my woman. Trust me on that.”

“Oh, I do. No question.”

“So, what do you say? Are you game for letting me put my money where my mouth is? Or my mouth where my cock is, I should say.”

She pretended shock. “You are a dirty boy. I don't know if I can take you home to Mama or not.”

“You probably shouldn't. But maybe I'm worth the risk.”

With that, he gently pulled out of her and then slid off the bed to dispose of the condom. When he returned, he grabbed her hand and hauled her up and out of the bed.

“Shower time. I'll make it the very best one you've ever had.” His predatory look made her shiver in anticipation. But when he grabbed his pair of handcuffs from the top of his dresser, her pulse began to pound.

The water was running when he pulled her into the large master bathroom, which was already getting hot. Opening the glass door, he stepped in and pulled her after him, shut it, and yanked her to his front so that their naked, slick bodies were pressed together.

He felt so good. So right. Like he was made to fit perfectly to her like this. To be hers. Thinking that way didn't seem such an impossible fantasy like it did before.

“Turn around and face the wall,” he said, voice husky. “Spread your legs.”

She did, and felt his palms slide down her sides slowly. Then he gently took each wrist and brought it to the towel rod mounted on the tiled wall. With a snap of each cuff, she was fastened to the rod, helpless and spread for him. Her arousal flared at the knowledge, heightening as he cupped her buttocks. His work-roughened hands made her skin tingle, and she wanted more.

Again, she did as he said. She'd never been one to take orders from a man when it came to sex, but with Taylor it wasn't threatening or debasing at all. What he did, he did for her pleasure and his. There was nothing wrong about it. Giving in to him was giving them both a ride on nothing but sensation. She trusted him.

His fingers sought her slit, rubbed the tender lips swollen and sensitive from his loving. With the water streaming over them both, it was fantastic. Warmth began to spread through her sex again as he stroked back and forth. Then forward to tease the taut nub of her clit. Back again, then slipping inside her channel. Finger fucking her until she was mindless.

Then he knelt on the shower floor and spread her ass cheeks, completely exposing her to his gaze. No man had ever done this, not quite in this position, leaving her feeling so vulnerable. But instead of scaring her, it turned her on. In a huge way.

She loved being exposed to Taylor. It must be something she enjoyed only with this man, because she'd never felt so free in her life. So sexual. He lapped at the pouty flesh of her folds, slurping, drinking as though she and the water were one and the same and he was receiving life-giving sustenance.

His tongue slipped into her sheath as far as possible, fucking her. No part of her was spared his attentions. He ate her with languid strokes and licks, and she arched into his face, babbling incoherently. She hoped he got the message not to stop. Never had anything made every part of her boil before. She was heat and desire.

She was nothing but flesh. Seeking his mouth, needing to be devoured. He gave that to her, everything she asked for, until she came undone.

“Oh! God, yes! Fuck!”

Her orgasm shattered every thought except letting that wonderful mouth own her. He lapped her up, riding through the last of the shudders ripping from her head to her toes. She didn't want the ecstasy to end, but it had to. When she was limp, he stood and she heard sounds of him rinsing off. Then he unfastened her wrists, set the cuffs outside the shower, and turned her again, holding her close.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

“You're kidding, right? Thank
you
. That was amazing.”

“I mean for trusting me. I've never found anyone I was totally compatible with when it came to sex. I mean, outside the act of just getting off. Anyone can do that.”

“I do trust you, and I feel the same way. We are compatible, in a lot of ways.”

Smiling, he soaped her, then himself. They had fun washing each other, lathering all of those interesting nooks and crannies. Learning each other's bodies intimately. It was fun. And fun with a lover was a definite first.

After rinsing off, they got out and Taylor lavished her with attention, toweling her off and then insisting in carrying her to bed and tucking her in. She was a little sheepish about being babied, but at the same time she loved it. Another new experience—having somebody think of her first.

Even Jenny had never put Cara first. As disloyal as it might be to think that, it was true. She'd never been blind to the fact that Jenny's world existed about three feet around her body, her own wants pretty much all that mattered. But Cara had loved her unconditionally, and Jenny loved her for that, in her own way. Grief made it easy to forget the less pleasant facts about someone.

Settling in beside her, Taylor gathered her close and settled her head on his chest. He enjoyed having her sprawl half on top of him, and she was glad to oblige. He made a nice, warm pillow.

Sated, she drifted into a cozy sleep, and into sweet dreams.

Dreams that were abruptly shattered by the sound of breaking glass and the shriek of the house alarm.

Taylor bolted upright, every nerve electrified.

An outright home invasion, despite the alarm that would alert the neighborhood—and his fellow cops. This he should've counted on, but it was something he really hadn't thought the killer would attempt.

Yanking on his jeans, he grabbed his gun from the bedside table. Cara was sitting up, eyes huge in her pale face. Grabbing his discarded ankle holster, he pulled out the smaller handgun and gave it to Cara, who took it and stared at it as though it were venomous.

“Point and shoot,” he ordered her. “Stay here, and if anyone comes through that door except me, uniformed cops, or Shane, aim for the center of the body and pull the trigger until there aren't any bullets left.”

“Okay! Be careful!”

There was a control panel for the alarm on the wall in his bedroom. He could've shut off the racket, but the more people roused by the noise, the better. Maybe the killer would take off. If not, the noise would mask his progress through the house, and he knew his way around better than anyone.

Even now, backup was coming. He knew that and it reassured him. Moving slowly, he gripped his gun and eased down the stairs. Nothing moved in the moonlit shadows of his living room that he could see, except a curtain billowing in a slight breeze. The broken window. He paused, not moving toward it, knowing the window could just be a way to draw him out. Cautiously, he edged farther into the room, looked to his left.

He saw the huge silhouette a split second before a cough punched the wall next to his head. A silencer. He dove to one side, firing a round, and was gratified by a harsh grunt from his enemy that he heard in spite of the wailing alarm.

The other man stumbled into an end table, knocking a lamp to the floor with a crash. Being wounded sent him into retreat, and he ran as Taylor fired another round. He dove through the broken window and Taylor gave chase.

For a big bastard, he moved fast. Taylor cleared the window in time to see the killer reach the edge of the trees. As he did, Shane roared up in his car and, having already spotted the assailant, threw open his door and gave chase. Shane was closer to the man and vanished into the trees, hot on his heels.

Taylor heard crashing sounds ahead of him and followed. Here the neighborhood gave way to a park used by everyone and enjoyed during the day. At night, the acreage was a fun-house maze of hiding places and obstacles, minus the fun. It was hard to see shit out here, even on a bright night like this one.

At least he had the noise of their pursuit to guide him—until it stopped. He halted too, taking in the shapes of the different types of playground equipment ahead of him. The creek was beyond that, just over the rise. Had the killer taken refuge there, in the brush along the bank? It seemed likely.

Scanning around him, he kept to the trees and tried to make his steps as light as possible. He wanted to call out to Shane, but alerting the killer to his whereabouts would be stupid in the extreme. So he kept going silently until he had the creek in view.

Beside the creek, there was a shape on the ground. At first, he felt a surge of triumph because he'd obviously wounded the suspect badly enough to catch him and get some answers. But the closer he got, a ball of dread began to form in his gut.

The form on the ground wasn't nearly big enough to be his assassin. As he jogged over, the sight that greeted him in the moonlight damned near stopped his heart. Shane was lying half-in, half-out of the creek. Facedown in the water.

“Fuck! Shane!”

Grabbing his partner by the shoulders, he rolled him onto his back and dragged him from the shallows. Safely on the bank, he checked to see if Shane was breathing. He wasn't. But there was a steady pulse in his throat, which was good.

Quickly, he administered CPR, alternating breaths with pushing the water from Shane's lungs. The second his partner began to cough and sputter was the greatest sound ever.

“Thank God.” Taylor hung his head in relief.

“Fucker . . .” He had another coughing fit. “Tried to . . . drown me.”

“Almost did.”

“Thanks for the save.” He tried to sit up, so Taylor helped him. “He get away?”

“Yeah. But he's hurt, so maybe he'll turn up in an ER.”

“Doubt it. Too big a risk.”

“Kind of like busting into my house in the first place.” He shook his head in disbelief.

“Why didn't he just shoot me?” Shane wondered aloud.

“Simple—he's not getting paid to kill you. One cop is enough. So he slowed you down, knowing I'd come along and tend to you instead of chasing him. He's able to get away.”

“Makes sense.”

“You need the paramedics?”

“No, man. I don't want to scare the crap out of Daisy and Drew if I can help it. They've had more than enough scares when it comes to me.”

As they picked their way back to Taylor's house, Shane coughed some more, but basically seemed all right. By the time they trudged onto the front lawn, his place was swarming with their brethren and curious neighbors. Among them stood Cara, looking lost until she spotted him and Shane heading her way.

Breaking into a run, she flew into his arms and held him tight. “I was so scared! Where'd you go?”

“Chased him to the park, but he got the drop on Shane. I had to give up pursuit.”

Looking to his partner, she eyed his wet clothes and hair. “Are you all right?”

“Never better.” He punctuated the claim with another cough.

Taylor snorted. “You'll probably end up with some sort of weird flesh-eating bacteria from breathing in that nasty creek water.”

Shane sent him a glare. “Thanks for that image.”

“I'm always here to help.”

One of the uniforms, Cunningham, ambled up to their small group and hitched a thumb toward the house. “Think he'll come back tonight?”

“No. Honestly, I think he'll try a different tactic next time.”

“We'll keep extra patrols on the street tonight and the next few days, just in case.”

“I appreciate it.” The killer would just wait until they were gone to strike again and they all knew it. But it was peace of mind for now.

“No prob. A couple of guys found some plywood in your garage, and they're boarding up the hole from the broken window. That'll do until you get somebody out to fix it.”

“Thanks, big guy.”

The redheaded cop waved off his thanks and went to join the others. Shane told him good night, claiming he needed to get home and change, then swill his mouth out with bleach to kill the microbes that were no doubt partying in his system this very minute.

After they went back inside, Taylor looked at Cara. “I'll understand if you want to go home. Or somewhere far away from me, at least until this is over.”

“No.”

“You could go back to California, stay with your mother—”

“I'd rather boil my eyeballs and eat them for breakfast.”

In spite of the situation, he laughed. “Well, in that case. Want to try and get some sleep?”

“Or something.”

It was a long while before they got any sleep, restful or otherwise.

•   •   •

In light of the previous night's events, Rainey gave him the day off.

Taylor wanted to get the hell out of Dodge, and was happy when Cara felt the same way. She took off from her bartending job that evening so they'd have the entire day and night to themselves before reality intruded again.

A day of much-needed fun started with breakfast and extended to some shopping in Nashville, a movie, and a drink at a bar on Second Avenue. That didn't mean Taylor was less vigilant. He watched every move from anyone nearby, especially since he now knew the assailant by his sheer size. He couldn't understand why this asshole kept coming for him, but he'd have answers soon.

“You up for a drive down by the dam?”

“Sounds nice.”

The evening shadows were getting long when they pulled in to the state park down on the Cumberland. He found an isolated spot to park and grabbed a blanket from the back of his car. Then they headed for an even more secluded place close to the river, one where they couldn't be seen by anyone for miles around.

His kind of place.

Taylor spread the blanket and they stretched out, with him simply holding her and enjoying the closeness. Soon, her hand began to roam and his cock took immediate notice.

He smiled. “Christ, what are you doing to me?”

Her hand slid up his thigh, brushed the telltale bulge pushing at the zipper of his jeans. “Isn't it obvious? Take them off.”

“Out here?”

“Nobody has followed us all day.” She grinned wickedly. “Nobody can see, either. Let's play.”

Taylor stared at Cara, his body humming with pent-up sexual tension. His cock was now hard as an iron spike. Every nerve ending on sensual overload. Hell, he'd never been a saint. And knowing a special woman like Cara, a lady who was privy to all his painful secrets, who wanted him in spite of his past, proved to be more than he could battle. Not that he ever tried very hard where she was concerned.

She sat with her full lips turned up in a gentle smile, waiting for him to make the next move. His call. God help them both, he had to touch her. Had to possess this goddess with her purple-streaked hair framing her pretty face. Her breasts were small but perfect, her slightly darker nipples erect little pebbles. Begging for his fingers. His tongue.

With effort, he dragged his gaze back to her lovely face. His hands shook as he cupped her cheeks, brushed his thumbs over her lips. He had to be sure she understood the score with him.

“Our past was one obstacle to overcome, and we're doing it. But in my line of work, what happened to Shane tonight can happen to any of us anytime. You've got to know what you're signing up for with me.”

She lifted a brow. “You keep people safe, but to do that you're sometimes at risk. I understand that and I won't be held hostage by fear. I trust in the future now like I never have before.”

“You humble me, baby. What did I do to deserve you?”

“Oh, Taylor. Make love to me,” she whispered.
“Now.”

Admiring her, he skimmed his palms down the graceful curve of her neck to her slim shoulders. Brushed his fingers across the swell of her breasts, her puckered little nipples. Marveled as always at the sensation, the pleasure of touching her.

My woman.

Reverently, he helped her undress; then he rolled the taut peaks between his fingers, pinching them lightly. Bracing her weight with her hands flat on the ground, she leaned back, spreading those long, toned legs. Offering herself to him.

Drinking in her natural beauty, he groaned, his heart pounding at the base of his throat. She was all silvery skin, curves of breasts, and lean hips, a dark nest of curls at the V of welcoming thighs.

He stood next to her, unzipping his jeans, pushing them past his hips. His erection sprang free, hot and hard. Throbbing to the point of real pain. Already a drop of cum beaded at the head of his penis. Eager to be buried deep, shoot inside her heat.

Smiling, she sat up on her knees and tugged his jeans to his ankles, pulling them as he stepped free. She laid them aside and wrapped her fingers around his erection, stroked, swirled the pearly drop around the head of his penis. He gasped at the wonderful, wicked bolt of desire sweeping him.

“Cara, I'm not going to last,” he croaked. “I can't—”

“Shh, it's okay. Don't hold back.”

Her tongue laved the tip, licking away the sticky wetness as she continued to pump his shaft. He shuddered, balls tightening, the heat rising in his loins, on the verge of losing control too soon. Her other hand found his sac, kneaded gently, and his breathing hitched.

Unable to help himself, he let his gaze drift down to watch. The sight nearly undid him. Beautiful Cara, kneeling between his spread legs. Working his cock with her silky touch, her warm, wet little mouth. Taking obvious enjoyment in reducing him to a mindless puddle. Demanding all of him.

Oh yeah. She can have me. Whenever, however she wants. From now on.

She took his length deep, sheathing his cock to the very base. He buried his hands in her wild hair, closing his eyes in ecstasy. Hers now. All hers.

“Cara. Oh, God!”

He pumped his hips slowly, in tandem to the pull of her sweet mouth. She sucked eagerly, teeth scraping, tongue sweeping the ridge of his dick. So damned good. He wanted more. Harder, deeper. How could she take all of him? He didn't want to hurt her.

Then he wasn't capable of thinking anymore. She grabbed his hips, urging his thrusts. There was nothing but the rising throb of heat threatening to burst him into a million shards. Blow him apart.

He gave himself over. To Cara. Gave her what they both wanted. Fucked her hard and fast. “Just like that. Fuck, yeah—so good.”

With a hoarse cry, he stiffened. Shot into her, pumping on and on. Riding the waves crashing through him until he stood trembling on legs that barely held him upright.

When the last of the aftershocks had faded, she released him and wiped her mouth with the edge of her discarded shirt. His rubbery knees folded and he sank down in front of her. She looked at him with a saucy grin, and his heart turned over.

Unbidden, a surge of raw emotion took him by surprise. Happiness swelled in his chest, real and powerful. And a fierce protectiveness. He was falling for her, and he wanted a future for them. Given the chance, he'd send the son of a bitch trying to take that away from them straight to hell.

“Mmm,” she purred, slanting him a sexy look. “I loved doing you. I think you've corrupted me.”

“I like the sound of that.”

“And I don't know if you're ready to hear this, but it's more than sex to me between us. You're special to me and I . . .” Trailing off, she bit her lip.