Page 16 of Cat and Mouse

"Thanks," I say, closing the door. "Drink?"

"Sure," she replies, following me to the kitchen.

I pour us both a glass of whiskey and hand her one. She takes a sip, watching me over the rim of her glass.

"So, what's the plan?" she asks, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

"No plan," I say, leaning against the counter. "Just enjoying some company."

She leans closer, her eyes locked on mine. "You're an interesting guy, Leonardo."

"You have no idea," I say, smirking.

She's in a little black strapless dress, and the sight of her stirs something primal in me. All this adrenaline and nowhere to take it, so I take it out on her. I pull her in and kiss her, hard. Her lipstick is different, nothing like the cherry smell on Elizabeth's. I pull back for a moment, breathless.

"Linda," I whisper.

"Yes," she giggles.

I don't waste another second. I strip off my shirt and reach for the zipper of her dress, pulling it down. It falls to the floor, leaving her standing there in nothing but a skimpy pair of black lace panties. I step back, taking in the sight of her. But in my mind, I'm picturing someone else. Elizabeth. Her green eyes. Her defiant smirk.

I push Linda down to her knees. Her eyes dart up at me with a mix of eagerness and apprehension, but all I can see are Elizabeth's defiant green eyes staring back, full of fire.

"Do it," I command, my voice low and rough.

Linda's hands move quickly, unfastening my pants and pulling them down. Her lips wrap around me softly, hesitantly. I close my eyes, trying to escape into the sensation, but Elizabeth's fierce eyes haunt me. Linda's efforts are mechanical, but her mouth is warm and inviting. She takes me out of her mouth to give me a tentative lick, her tongue flicking over my shaft. I grip her hair and force her to take me deeper into her mouth instead. Her mouth is warm and wet, but it's Elizabeth's defiant gaze that I'm focused on. Linda's lips move up and down in a steady rhythm, and I can feel her gagging slightly as she tries to take more of me. The sensation is intense, but it's overshadowed by my obsession with Elizabeth.

I guide her movements, pushing her head up and down with a firm hand, her gagging noises mixing with the slick sounds of her efforts. Her tongue wraps around me, massaging and stroking with a practiced rhythm. I can feel every flick, every swirl, but all I can think about is Elizabeth. Linda's compliance only serves to frustrate me more.

As the pleasure builds, I struggle to focus on the fantasy. I grip Linda's hair tighter, forcing her to take me even deeper, her throat working hard to accommodate me. The feeling of her warm mouth, her slick tongue, and the occasional gag as she struggles to take me fully sends waves of pleasure through me.

Finally, I come with a shudder, the release tinged with emptiness. Linda pulls back, her lips glistening, a satisfied smile playing on her face. The reality of the situation hits me hard—Linda's presence, her compliance, feels hollow compared to the fierce image of Elizabeth.

I grab Linda roughly, pulling her up and turning her around. I bend her over the kitchen counter, her gasp of surprise quickly drowned by her giggle of assent. I slide my fingers between her legs, feeling her heat and slickness. It's not about pleasure now; it's about a twisted need for control.

I work my fingers in and out with a relentless pace, the slick sounds of my movements blending with Linda's moans. Her body writhes against the cool surface of the counter, her back arching as she responds to my touch.

Linda's cries of pleasure grow louder, her body tensing and trembling as she reaches her climax. I pull my fingers away, stepping back, feeling a grim sense of satisfaction that quickly turns to frustration.

"That was... amazing," Linda breathes out, turning to face me with a lingering, satisfied smile.

"Yeah," I reply absently, already thinking about Elizabeth again. "You should go."

Linda looks surprised but doesn't argue. She gathers her clothes and dresses quickly. The rustle of fabric and the click of the door as she leaves are the only sounds that break the heavy silence of the room.

I head back to the living room, grabbing the file on Detective Kane. She intrigues me, and I won't rest until I've unraveled every detail about her.

I pull out my phone and dial Matteo's number again.

"Matteo, any updates on those records?"

"Still working on it," he says. "It's going to take a bit longer."

"Hurry up," I snap. "I want those records now."

"Okay, okay. I'll get them to you soon."

I hang up and toss the phone aside, frustration boiling inside me. I need to know everything about her. I need to find a way to get closer, to understand what makes her tick.

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