“What do you want, Lauren?”
“Make me forget.” It was a broken whisper. “Please.”
A muscle flexed along his jaw. “I’ll do better than that.” His hands found her wrists, and he held them against the pillows. “But you can’t move. Not an inch. You stay right there.”
He was still being careful—
Anthony positioned himself between her thighs. Then his mouth was on her. His lips, his tongue…he was sampling her, exploring her secrets, and she wanted to move so badly. Wanted to arch into his mouth.
But her muscles had locked. Was it by his order? Or her own desperate need? She wasn’t sure. She just couldn’t move. Couldn’t do anything but take the pleasure as his mouth took her.
The pleasure was there. It hit her, striking hard and reverberating through her on a wave of heat that melted the ice surrounding her. Then she was moving, wildly, frantically. Shudders racked her body, her sex contracted and the orgasm seemed to go on and on.
Only pleasure. Only pleasure…
“That’s a nice start.” His voice was a low, rough rumble.
She heard a faint ripping sound and saw a foil wrapper get tossed to the side.
The head of his cock pushed against her body. Her eyes met his. Anthony. His face was savage with need, but his hands were gentle. His control hadn’t broken. Hers had.
I’m broken. So lost—
He thrust into her.
Only pleasure.
His fingers twined with hers, keeping her hands pinned to the pillow. His thrusts were slow and deep, driving all the way into her core. She lifted her legs and curled them around him. He made her feel so full. Made her whole body pulse with pleasure—
Another orgasm was already building.
He kissed her when she came. The pleasure rolled through her on hard waves. There was no more fear, no more worries—only the release that held her in its white-hot grip and wouldn’t let go.
Anthony thrust deep into her once more, then he stiffened. His mouth tore from hers as he growled her name. She looked up at him as he came and saw the flash of stark pleasure that swept over his face. His cheeks were flushed, his eyes blazing—he was so sexy that he made her lose the breath she’d finally just caught.
Slowly, so slowly, the pleasure ebbed. Her heartbeat became less like a wild drumbeat and more of a slow, steady thud.
He slid out of her, and she hated that. She wanted to stay a part of him, but he was already sliding to the side of her body, cradling her. Anthony kept his fingers entwined with her right hand. “I missed you.” His stark confession came as the sunlight poured through the blinds and fell on their bodies.
“You didn’t have to stay away.” Her words were a whisper. Her throat felt parched, as if she’d been screaming.
Had she? For the sake of any folks rooming close by, she hoped not.
“How do you know I did?”
His question had her brows pulling together. “Of course you stayed away. You left and—”
“Sometimes, I just needed to see you.” He brought her hand to his lips. Kissed her palm. “Sometimes it was too hard to let you go.”
The shock must have showed in her eyes.
“I told you,” he said, giving a slow, almost sad shake of his head. “Obsession. It’s dangerous.”
He rolled away and went to the bathroom.
The chill came back on her skin. What had she thought would happen once they had sex again?
I hadn’t been thinking.
She’d just wanted to stop feeling. She’d known sex with him would give her that delicious oblivion she needed.
Her hand fumbled and yanked the covers over her naked body just as the bathroom door opened again.
Silently, he came toward her and lifted the covers she’d just so desperately tried to arrange. He slid in bed next to her and pulled her close. “I didn’t want to hurt you.”
“You didn’t.” Were they talking about the sex or the past?
“Sometimes it’s too easy to hurt the ones who get close to you. No one has ever gotten as close to me as you.” He studied her carefully. “Did I hurt you?”
“No.” Not if they were talking about the sex.
His gaze seemed to look past her. “A few months ago, when I was working the Valentine case down in New Orleans, that bastard managed to get the drop on me.”
Her fingers clenched the covers.
“I was searching for him in the woods. There’d been an explosion at the scene a few minutes before. I was hurt, but not badly enough to stop the hunt.”
She knew he never stopped a hunt if he could help it.
“The bastard hit me from behind. When I woke up, I was tied to a chair, and there was a bomb strapped to my chest.”
The heat that had just filled her cheeks cooled instantly. She’d heard he was involved in an explosion while apprehending Valentine, but the bomb had been strapped to his chest? Dear God.
“I knew how much time I had. Valentine made sure of it. The guy fucking hated me. I’d kept his fiancée hidden from him, for years, and he wanted me to suffer.” He ran a hand through his hair. “So I suffered.”
She should say something comforting, but she couldn’t speak past the heavy fear in her throat.
Strapped to his chest.
“After awhile, it wasn’t about hours of survival. It was about minutes. I was in the middle of nowhere, and I didn’t expect a rescue.” His gaze turned back to her. He paused a beat. “Did you?”
Yes. She’d expected him to find her, too late.
“When you lose hope, you think about the things that mattered. In those last few moments, all I could do was remember.”
In those last moments when she’d been so sure that Walker was going to kill her, she’d remembered, too.
Anthony.
“You were the woman in my mind. The woman I would die thinking about—wishing I’d been able to see you one more time.”
She swallowed down the hard ball of fear.
“I thought about the things I could have done differently, what I should have done.”
Lauren pushed back her hair. Her fingers wanted to shake.
“Once I got back here to you, everything just went to hell once more.” His hands had fisted. “I want to be with you, but the last thing I ever want is for you to hurt.”
“You’re not the threat to me.” He had to see that.
His gaze raked over her body. “You were attacked. You’ve got bruises on you, stitches, a concussion, and I still want to fuck you until you can’t move.”
Her breath caught.
“Trust me”—his words were little more than an angry growl—“I’m a threat, and I’m doing my damn best to keep my control.”
The control she’d wanted to see shatter.
The phone rang, breaking the stark silence that had fallen between them. Anthony turned away to answer the call.
Lauren tried to breathe.
“What?” Anthony barked. The shock in his voice had her head jerking up. “You’re sure? Shit. Right. Yeah, I’ll be right there.”
His hand clenched around the phone as he whirled to face her.
Not again. She understood what those deep lines on his face had to mean. “Walker.”
A grim nod. “Judge Hamilton’s missing. The guy ditched the guards on him—he’s gone.”
Paul met Anthony and Lauren at Hamilton’s home. The detective was waiting outside on the wide, wraparound porch. When he saw them arrive, he waved them over.
Anthony slanted a worried glance Lauren’s way. He should have kept his hands off her. Denying her anything, though, was beyond him. She’d looked at him, with tears gleaming in her big, blue eyes, and he’d been a goner.
The minute he’d actually tasted her, he’d known there was no hope of stopping.
“Are you sure—” he began, his voice low.
“Do not ask me if I’m okay again. I’m the DA, a judge is missing—I am staying with you. This is my job
, Anthony.”
He wasn’t going to argue, mostly because he wanted her with him. He only felt secure about her when she was within sight.
They quickly closed the distance between them and the detective.
Paul yanked a hand through his already tousled hair. “This is so screwed,” he muttered.
“You think Walker has the judge?” Lauren asked, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear when it blew with the gusting wind. A summer storm was coming, the kind that would flare with lightning across the sky, erupting hard and fast.
“At first, I did.” Paul glanced over his shoulder toward the house. “But then the wife checked her bank account and realized Walker had cleared out twenty thousand dollars, cash.”
Anthony whistled. “And there was no sign of an abduction at the courthouse?”
“The cops said Hamilton dodged them. Deliberately slipped out a back exit. His car’s missing, and I’ve got cops looking for it but…” He gave a shake of his head. “My money says the guy decided to cut and run.”
Anthony wasn’t so sure, not yet anyway. “His office was trashed. He was the one who sent Walker to prison.”
“He was also the one who gave the guy a life sentence instead of death. From the way I figure it,” Paul said, “Walker owes the fellow a big-ass thank-you. Not any payback.”
Lauren cleared her throat. “But Paul, Judge Walker has a career here, a family—”
“He also has a dead mistress and a serial killer stalking the streets. He would have seen coverage of your attack on the news.”
“Was there video of him leaving the courthouse?” Anthony asked. A video would let them know whether or not the judge had left on his own.
“There was some security footage, yeah. It showed Hamilton looking over his shoulder a few times, running fast for his ride, but the cameras didn’t catch anyone else with him.”
It was sure looking like Walker had fled, not been abducted.
Anthony still wanted to talk to the wife. He wanted to follow every piece of evidence, any trail that might lead him to Walker. And the judge—well, Walker had already showed a marked interest in the guy.
Anthony and Lauren followed Paul into the house. When Mrs. Pierce Hamilton came into view, Lauren crossed to her side.
“Julia,” Lauren said, her voice soft, “I’m very sorry for—”
“He left me.” The words seemed lost. So shocked. “He took the money and he left me.”
“We don’t know for—”
Julia, a thin woman with carefully streaked blonde hair, gave a bitter laugh. “Don’t lie to me, Lauren. I know what’s been going on. I know about the girl he was screwing, I always know about the girls…” Her sentence trailed away as her fingers clenched around a white handkerchief. “I don’t usually care. We have an arrangement, you see.”
Anthony didn’t see and he didn’t exactly want to.
“He was never supposed to leave. What will people say?” The handkerchief was about to rip apart in her hands. “What will I do?”
What could they do? The judge was an adult. If he wanted to cut town and run, he could. He’d broken no laws, so they had no legal reason to hold him or to hunt him.
Julia’s red-rimmed eyes locked on Paul. “Can you find him, Detective? Can you ask him why?”
Sympathy slid over Paul’s face. “Ms. Hamilton, you know Judge Hamilton convicted Jon Walker—”
“This isn’t about Walker!” She jumped to her feet. “My husband isn’t in danger! He’s leaving me! I can’t let him do that! I can’t let—”
“We’re going to search for signs of foul play because of the Walker case,” Paul continued, his voice staying calm and low. “But ma’am, if the judge willingly left the city, there isn’t anything that can be done.”
Julia’s narrow shoulders hunched. “I gave him so many years. I let him screw around with those whores, and this is what he does? He leaves me?” She ripped the handkerchief in two. “Let Walker get him. I don’t care! If the bastard dies, it will be better for me.” Her breath was ragged. “Better to be a widow than the fool he left behind.”
Pierce Hamilton slowly opened his eyes. His head hurt. It throbbed. He squinted as he tried to see around him. Where the hell am I?
“Waking up, are you?” The voice was taunting. “Sure as fuck took you long enough.”
With effort, Pierce turned his head to the side.
Jon Walker smiled. “Did you think you were running somewhere?”
Pierce’s memory flooded back. He’d left the courthouse in a rush, but his car had been nearly out of gas. He’d filled the thing up a day ago, so it should have been able to go for miles. He’d found himself drifting into a small, run-down station on the edge of town. He’d started to fill up his tank…
Then someone had slammed his head into the side of his BMW, hard enough to break the fucking window.
“I went to so much trouble to get back to you and Ms. Chandler.” Walker shook his head. “Did you think I would just let you walk away?” He took a step toward Pierce. The knife in his hand glinted. “You and I…we have some unfinished business.”
Fear rose in Pierce’s throat, nearly choking him. “I’m not the one to blame! I was just doing my job!”
“If you had done your job, you would have paid attention to the letters you got. Those damn letters said I should go free.”
His heart was about to jump out of his chest. “How do you know about those?”
“I know plenty.” Walker glanced around. “Like the fact your fishing cabin was empty, sitting all alone up here, waiting for someone to stop by for a nice little visit.”
Pierce’s eyes widened. This was his place. He hadn’t been here in at least two years. Julia hated the cabin, so he’d found other entertainment to keep him busy. But the antlers on the wall, the bear rug, the gleaming wood furniture—
Mine.
“Never would’ve guessed you loved to hunt and kill so much, Judge,” Walker drawled. “Looks like we have more in common than I thought.”
“We’re not alike! We’re nothing alike!” Pierce strained at his bonds. He was in one of the kitchen chairs. Behind him, his hands were wrapped with what felt like duct tape. He looked down and saw the gray line of duct tape around his ankles. He was trapped. Helpless.
The knife was so close to his skin.
The Bayou Butcher. He’d seen the crime scene photos, seen everything during the trial. He knew just how Walker liked to torture his prey. He also knew—
“You don’t kill men,” Pierce blurted, because what the hell else did he have to say? But it was the truth. Walker liked to hurt women, not men. It was part of the profile that had been revealed in court.
Walker laughed. “Tell that to the prison guard I gutted on my way out of Angola.”
Pierce shook his head. He wasn’t stupid. He’d had plenty of shrinks in his court over the years, so he understood more than most about the minds of killers. “It was fast, though, right? You don’t enjoy it when you kill men. Just women.” He licked his lips. “You would have enjoyed it if you’d gotten to kill Lauren.”
Walker’s face hardened. “I will kill the bitch.”
“Yes, yes, you will.” Pierce spoke quickly. “Call her, tell her I’m here, that you have me, and she’ll come running.” She’d also better come with that marshal who seemed glued to her side.
Or with the detective she’d screwed once upon a time.
Walker glanced down at the knife in his hand. “Women have softer skin. The knife just slices right through it.”
Sick freak.
“I sliced your girlfriend.” Walker glanced up with a sly smirk on his face. “Didn’t realize who she was to you, not at first. Just thought she was some dumb bitch friend of Lauren’s. And any friend of Lauren’s can damn well find herself under my knife.”
Pierce jerked at the duct tape. Don’t think about Karen.
“Karen, right? I found out her name later. I just called her bitch when I
was slicing her.”
Pierce’s hands fisted.
“She started screaming that she had a powerful boyfriend, a judge who would give me anything if I let her live.” He laughed. “So stupid. She was your side piece. You wouldn’t give up anything for her.”
Pierce thought of Karen’s laughter. Such a sweet sound. He thought of the way she’d made him feel, like he should do more than let his life fade away. Like he should have dreams again.
“Call Lauren,” he managed to say, swallowing heavily. “Tell her—”
“I’m not calling anyone.”
Hell.
Walker stood directly in front of him now. “I was in that prison for eighteen hundred and sixty-five days. While I was behind those bars, in that fucking tiny room, you were out. You were screwing your whore, riding in your fancy car, eating your fine dinners.”
“You killed. A jury found you guilty—”
“One of the bastards changed his mind! He wrote to you!”
Pierce understood. “You made him write, didn’t you?”
The smirk was back.
“How? What did you do?”
“Let’s just say I found the right motivation to convince him I needed to get out of jail.” He laughed, bitter, mocking. “When you apply the right pressure, you can get a man to do just about anything.”
Pierce couldn’t get out of the bonds.
“But his notes didn’t work.” Walker’s jaw tightened, the smirk slipping. “So things had to get bloody for him. The bastard owed me, and I made sure he paid. Just like I’ll make sure you pay.”
He was staring at death. Walker’s slow, wide smile confirmed the hell that was coming. “You shouldn’t worry about other folks right now, Judge. Instead, you should probably be more worried about what’s going to happen to you.”
Paul whistled softly as the judge’s wife stormed away. “That is a woman with a whole lot of rage.” He shook his head. “Guess that’s what happens when you screw around on someone too long. They want their revenge.”
Lauren had seen the fury in Julia’s eyes, but she’d also seen the pain. At that moment, she wasn’t sure if Julia knew what she really wanted. Her husband being carved up by a serial killer? That might not be what she was praying for.