Page 13 of Saved By the Lieutenant

As I deepen the kiss, he pulls me closer, his body heat enveloping mine. I can feel his heartbeat against my chest, wild and erratic, in sync with mine. The emotions are overflowing, and I can't control them anymore. I don't want to.

His lips travel down my neck, my breath hitches as he nips at my skin, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. I can't help but arch into him, wanting more of his touch. He responds by cupping my face, his thumbs brushing away the tears that have fallen silently down my cheeks.

“Let me help you,” he whispers again, his voice hoarse with emotion. “Let me take away your pain.”

I nod, my eyes locked with his, and he quickly strips out of his clothes, I swallow hard as I get a good look at him. He's not changed much in the past two years, he still looks amazing, his body is rock solid, he works hard for his body, and it shows. He's got hair on his chest, I used to love running my finger through it as we made love. He's also got a trail of hair that leads from his belly button down to his happy trail and to his cock. I hate that he's not changed I was devastated when he left, I lost weight, it took me ages to come to terms with the loss of him and our relationship. I still haven't put on the weight that I lost during that time.

He presses a kiss against my stomach as he positions himself over me, his cock thick and full, my blood heats as the anticipation of having him inside of me hits me. God, it’s been so long. I can’t wait. He runs the tip of his cock along my soaked folds, and I whimper. I need him.

He guides his cock to my entrance and thrusts deeply inside of me. I release a long moan as he fills me up.

“Fuck, Amy,” he groans, pulling out almost all the way before slamming back into me with such force that my bed frame creaks. “I've missed this so much.”

I grip his shoulders, my nails digging into his skin as I arch my back to meet his every thrust. The pain and terror of my nightmare quickly fade away, replaced with pure ecstasy. This is what I've been craving for two years– Jake's body inside of mine, his skin pressed against mine, his breath mingling with mine in every gasp and moan.

He increases his pace, his hips moving in a frenzy, and I struggle to keep up. Each thrust sends waves of pleasure coursing through me, my body responding to his in the most intimate of ways. I'm lost in the rhythm, in the heat– in him.

“Harder,” I beg, my voice hoarse, my head thrown back. My eyes close as the pleasure builds. He obliges, and his thrusts become rougher, deeper, as though he's trying to claim me, to mark me as his own. The room is filled with the sounds of our bodies slapping together, of our ragged breaths and desperate cries.

As the intensity builds, so does my orgasm. It starts as a tiny spark, then grows into a blazing inferno, consuming me from the inside out. I cry out his name, a high-pitched wail of release, as wave after wave of ecstasy crashes over me, leaving me gasping for breath.

Jake groans my name, his face contorted with pleasure as he follows me over the edge. His cock throbs inside me, pulsing with his release, and I feel the warm rush of his seed spilling deep within me. I moan again, the sensation intensifying my climax, as we ride the wave of pleasure together.

As the aftershocks subside, we collapse onto the bed, our bodies still joined together. I wrap my arms around him, my heart pounding against my chest. He holds me close, his breath warm on my skin, and I feel safe. God, I feel so safe right now.

“Thank you,” I whisper, my voice finally steady. I’m not thanking him for sex, but for being here. I know that he droppedeverything to be here and as angry as I am at what happened in the past, I truly do appreciate what he’s done.

“Anything for you, Amy,” he says, his voice thick with emotion. “Anything.”

I wish I believed that, once upon a time I would have, but now it’s hard. We lay here for a while, his arms still wrapped around me like a vine, his breathing evens out and I know that he’s fast asleep. I’m too frightened to do the same, I’m scared that the nightmare will get me again. Terrified the man that’s killing these women will find me and finish the job he started.

I’ve never felt so helpless, but I’ll be damned if I sit around and wait for him to strike. No, once the morning hits, I’ll be working hard on uncovering everything about the innocent women that he murdered. I won’t stop until I find out who this animal is and even then, I won’t give up until he’s rotting behind bars.

6

JAKE

The past week,Amy has been working tirelessly. Since the night of her nightmare, she's been burning the candle at both ends. She'll not stop, she’s determined to uncover something, anything, that'll help us uncover who the killer is. She's not told me about her dream, the dream that takes a hold of her every single night. It's like clockwork, she'll go to sleep and within an hour, she's screaming and gasping for breath. I know she's dreaming about the killer and what he did to her. Christ, seeing and hearing the fear guts me each and every single night. I’d do anything to take the fear from her, but I know that until we find out who this asshole is, she'll continue to live with the terror she felt the night she was attacked along with the fear and nightmares that come with it.

Each night that the nightmares take her, we end up having sex. God, it's so damn good to have her back in my arms. I've missed her. I never truly realized just how much I actually missed her until I was sunk deep inside of her. The moment I was buried balls deep inside of her snug wet heat, I felt complete. Utterly complete. I know that Amy still hates me for walking away and is turning to me during her darkest times tofind solace, and I'm okay with that. I'll do whatever it takes to help her. When the morning hits, the walls Amy has built for herself are erected once again. I get it, I understand why she does it, but it fucking kills me watching her eyes shutter the second she wakes up and then see how void of emotion they are.

I love her. That has never been in question. Amy has and will always be the woman that I love. I just can't break her. My job is important to me, and I love Amy too much to devastate her if anything goes wrong.

“Jake,” I hear her voice call out. She's been seated at the table as I work on fixing the fire. “Crap, Jake, I think I've uncovered something,” she says softly.

I rise to my feet and move toward her, my movements hurried. “What have you found?” I ask warily. She's been working so damn hard that anything that doesn't pan out she takes to heart. She's trying her hardest to solve this case.

“The women,” she breathes. “All of them have had a run-in with the law,” she whispers, her eyes wide and bright with hope. “Every single woman that’s been murdered was in some way shape or form in trouble with the police.”

“All of them?” I ask with a raised brow.

She nods. “Every single one of them.”

“Tell me about them,” I demand, knowing that she needs to talk it through. My woman is an amazing detective, she should have joined the police force, but I know that she's got a bleeding heart and wouldn't be able to deal with the red tape and bureaucracy. Her becoming a crime journalist gave her the chance to feed into what she's good at and enhance her skills even more.

“So, the homeless women and prostitutes were arrested for either stealing or solicitation. Liz Monford and her ex-boyfriend Darrin Umbert were arrested at the age of sixteen. Liz for reckless driving and underage drinking, Darrin forunderage drinking and resisting arrest. Both of them had no prior convictions and their parents paid a lot to have it kept under wraps. They were let off with community service and their records were sealed.” She pulls in a deep breath and continues. “Monica Michaels also had her record sealed. When she was fourteen, she was on the streets and was arrested for solicitation. From what I've uncovered, she had no other choice, she and her siblings were hungry, and her mom was on a drug binge.”

“Fuck,” I grit out. That's a fucked-up situation for everyone to be involved in. “So, whoever this asshole is, they're targeting the woman that made wrong choices or choices they had no other options in taking.”

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