Sole Witness (17 page)

Good point. But.

“Where am I supposed to sleep?” she demanded. “You
can’t expect me to–”

“Stop right there, honey, before you make an offer I
can’t refuse,” Davis interrupted with a sexy smile. “I’ll bunk on the couch. I
do half the time anyway, when I fall asleep watching the ever-fascinating
late-night infomercials.”

Lori narrowed her eyes at him and his grin stretched
wider. Incorrigible man.

She snatched her bag up from the floor and stalked
off to his bedroom, throwing her belongings on the bed and slamming the door
behind her. Deciding she was being a bit more childish than truly necessary,
she reopened the door and stepped back out into the hall.

Or, she would have, if Davis hadn’t been standing
just on the other side of the door.

Their bodies collided with a soft thump, and his
hands flew to her upper arms to steady her against his chest. Nothing could
steady the fluttering in her stomach or the trembling of her hands.

“Hey,” he said softly. “If this doesn’t work for
you, I’ll take you somewhere else.”

Lori shook her head, cognizant of nothing but the
warm feel of his palms on her skin. “I’m sorry. It’s not that. I’m just shook
up. It’s been a long day.”

His hands traveled up her shoulders to her cheeks,
but his eyes never left her face. “You’re telling me. I thought I lost you. It
was the worst moment of my entire life.”

Heat seared up Lori’s neck and the churning inside
her body turned molten. “I—You didn’t lose me. Davy–”

Then his mouth was on hers and she forgot about
saying whatever secret longing that she’d almost confessed. His lips brushed
against hers side to side, his breath hot against her skin, his touch
tentative.

She wanted more.

Lori rose to her toes and pressed her mouth firmly
to his, clinging to him for a moment before twining her hands around his neck.

Davis swayed for a second, then pivoted and led her
backward until his legs hit the bed. He leaned his back onto the mattress,
taking her with him until she lay atop him, their legs entwined and their
kisses desperate for something neither was willing to put into words.

*          *          *

A stream of stinging curse words
spewed from Amber’s lips.

“Who am I, Snidely Whiplash?” she
muttered. “I’m smarter than that.”

With a jerk of the wheel, she
squeezed her Camry in a tight spot between a minivan and an SUV, both
inconveniently parked over the line. It may be Wednesday, but it was also
Spring Break and the mall’s parking garage next to the AMC 20 bulged with cars.

Perfect, if she did say so
herself.

Amber popped her trunk, tossed in
her Glock, pulled out a screwdriver, and slammed the lid. She hesitated only a
moment before reopening the trunk and tossing her gun back in her purse. Better
safe than sorry, and right now—much as it galled to admit– she was a little
sorry.

If only she hadn’t had to tear
out of there with Preggo Pig just scant seconds behind!

She would have
loved
to
see whether she’d finally managed to plug a bullet hole in Miss Sassypant’s
smarmy little face.

Never mind. Work to be done.

She lounged against her trunk,
smiling idly at startled passers-by until her aisle emptied of teenagers
scurrying to the big screen.

In seconds, her license plate
clattered to the ground. Amber snatched it up and tucked it under one armpit.
Wasting no time, she crouched behind the SUV with the bad park job and poised
to remove the plate.

No.

Straightening, Amber scanned the
row of cars. She stalked over to the other side of the garage before she found
what she wanted.

Another Camry. Wrong year, yes.
More burgundy than red, fine. No spoiler. Retarded “Baby On Board” monstrosity
hanging in the back window. None of that would show in a police scan.

Right make, right model, same
stupid Florida orange.

Less than a minute later, Amber
strode back to her Camry, a shiny new license plate under her arm. Okay, not
shiny. More like grimy and disgusting. What trailer park did those freaks crawl
out of? The first thing she was going to have to do was change her clothes.

Done with the new plate, Amber
replaced her screwdriver in her trunk and groaned.

Clothes. She could hardly go
home. Ever. Damn that Lori Summers! She would have to reinvent herself. Change
names. States. Maybe spend a year in Mexico.

But first, she needed new
clothes. And money. Amber glanced at the mall entrance. No sense taking the
chance that her accounts were frozen or, worse, being watched.

She smirked. Most people had no
idea what terror technology could bring. Amber slipped behind the wheel and started
the engine.

The easiest path to clothes and
money was a little three-letter word: men.

With one hand, she fished in her
purse for her cell phone. She scrolled through her contact list.

All the men she’d slept with over
the past years were rich and generous with their money. Most had strong reasons
of their own not to mention their relationship. And those who had earned more
than a single booty call typically had a drawerful of Amber-sized clothing,
whether they knew it or not.

Boy Scouts weren’t the only ones
to always be prepared.

Amber backed out of her parking
space and headed for a small town outside of Isla Concha.

Her outlook had already improved
and her bunched muscles began to relax. Tonight she’d get some clothes, some
money, some sex. Watch a little TV. Make a few plans. Reload her cigarette
supply.

And tomorrow, she’d take care of
little Lori Summers.

He should’ve never let her go.

The feel of Lori’s soft body draped across his was
more than enough to bring back a barrage of feelings.

Protectiveness. Contentedness. Arousal.

Davis wasn’t sure he’d survive staying this close to
Lori. Her mere presence brought up painful memories. The touch of her tongue
against his made him want to claim her as his. Forever.

With a desperate groan, Davis rolled over, taking
her with him, so that he was on top and she lay underneath. He meant to get up,
to go away, to leave her alone, but somehow he’d managed to not break the kiss
and now all of his good intentions evaporated into the ether.

Her slender fingers tugged at his hair, her breasts
strained against his chest, and—oh, Lord—her long legs slid up to wrap around
his hips. There was only one place this kind of monkey business could lead, and
he couldn’t get there fast enough.

Man, how he’d missed her. And today, that one
horrible moment when he was so sure that she’d been hit…

A new layer of sweat moistened Davis’s skin. He had
to touch her. He had to see her.

He fumbled at her shoes, the tiny straps refusing to
cooperate.

She removed one hand from his hair and helped him
out, throwing each against the wall in rapid succession.

Davis grabbed her wrists and forced them over her
head, gripping them with his left hand while the right unbuttoned her blouse.

Seven buttons seemed like seventy. Each exposed
another inch of creamy skin.

She must not have been tanning through the winter.
The satiny bra seemed shockingly black against her pale skin. Hard nipples
poked up through the thin material. Davis took one into his mouth, his tongue
dampening the silk as he suckled.

Lori nearly came up off the bed.

Her wrists burst from his grip. She leaned upward,
shoving her breast deeper into Davis’s mouth. Within seconds, her blouse flew
to the floor and she had her bra unhooked.

Davis slid his mouth to the valley between her
breasts and bit down on the black silk. He tugged the scrap of fabric from her
with his teeth and tossed it over one shoulder. With a smile, he pushed her
back onto the mattress. His tongue flicked across bare nipples.

Lori arched her back and moaned.

He broke contact for a brief moment, just long
enough to unbuckle his dress pants and wiggle them to the floor, revealing navy
boxer shorts and a massive erection. He tugged off her jeans,
accidentally-on-purpose taking her panties with them.

She sat up on the edge of the mattress, pulling him
between her legs.

Even through the now-tight cotton, he throbbed
against her. He rubbed his cheek against the top of her hair and the scent of
her shampoo enveloped him.

Slowly, she unbuttoned his dress shirt and let it
fall to the floor. Davis crossed his arms at his waist and nearly ripped off
the white t-shirt beneath in his hurry.

Lori gave him a catlike grin and pressed a trail of
hot kisses from the center of his chest to his navel to the elastic waistband
of his boxer shorts, which twitched in response.

He should’ve gone commando.

Davis tugged off his shorts and tilted her backwards
until she rested on her elbows, her hips at the mattress’s edge and her nipples
dark against plump, round breasts. He teased the erect nipples with the tips of
his fingers before cupping both breasts in his hands.

She closed her eyes and a garbled mewl escaped her
throat.

He captured her mouth with his own, his arousal
straining against the damp heat between her legs. Lori widened her knees.

Davis angled himself to enter, then paused.

“I thought you died today,” he whispered against her
mouth.

“I didn’t,” she answered, her breath sweet and
moist.

“I thought I’d lost you,” Davis heard himself
insisting, his voice husky.

She wiggled her hips, wetting his skin in the
process. “I’m here.”

He sucked in a deep breath. “I thought–”

“You think too much.”

Lori fell back against the mattress as she reached
out her hands to his backside and forced their bodies together.

Davis completely forgot his train of thought as he
lost himself in pure pleasure. Bracing his feet on the floor, he slid his
upturned hands beneath her back, hugging her warm little body to him as he
rocked into her, their hungry mouths never parting.

He was in heaven. Lori was right here—he was holding
her. Pleasuring her. She was naked. She was perfect. She was moaning. She was…
coming.

Davis couldn’t hold back any longer as Lori’s
spasming muscles brought him over the edge. Once he could breathe again, he
scooped her in his arms.

He centered her on the bed, snuggling beside her,
and enveloping her in a full body hug.

Arms and legs tangled together with hers, Davis
grimaced into the top of her head and wondered what on earth he’d just done.

*          *          *

Lori awoke to the sound of running water.

Had Kimberley left the faucet on again? Lori shot up
in bed and then blinked owlishly at the room, disoriented. Although the artwork
on the walls complemented the shades-of-blue décor, this was not her décor.

This was not her bedroom. Kimberley was not here.
Life was horrible.

Davis. Davis was in the shower. Naked.

Lori clutched the sheet tighter. Life wasn’t one
hundred percent horrible. Last night had been amazing. Frantic. Perfect.

There was no way it could last.

She’d felt so safe wrapped in his arms. Protected.
Loved. Both were an illusion. As long as the killer was out there, hunting her,
she could never be safe. And as Lori’s teenage memories could attest, great sex
with Davis Hamilton never equaled happy ever after.

 Not that he wasn’t attracted to her. That much had
been deliciously clear.

Lori swung her legs over the side of the bed and
permitted herself a rueful smile. If she slid open the shower curtain right
now, still naked from last night, she doubted they’d even make it back to the
bedroom.

She frowned.

Talk about a bad idea. A maniac was on the loose;
someone targeting the innocent people around Lori and crazy enough to kill
anyone in her path. Davis had been safely out of her life for more than a full
decade, and in one night she managed to clutch him to her and endanger him as
well.

What the hell had she been thinking?

The bedroom door swung open and Davis stepped
inside. A white terrycloth towel hung around his waist. Droplets of water
beaded on his chest. Damp hair clung to his forehead. He was irresistible… she
would have to be strong.

“Well, good morning,” he said with a warm smile. His
eyes heated as his gaze traveled her nude body.

Lori shook her head. “I should leave.”

“Leave? What are you talking about?”

“I can’t do this.”

“Do what? I’m not going to ravish you. I have to go
to work.”