Page 139 of Blood Moon

“They were shocked by the news that Molly had been abducted, but excited that Wallace’s capture, the dark web slant, gives them a new, strong lead.”

He’d also spoken to Derby, who’d told him that they were looking hard at Tom Barker as a suspect in the execution-style murder of Frank Gray.

“Derby told me that Barker is schmoozing the SO. He laid it on thick what a loss the ogre’s death was to the CAP unit as a whole, and to him in particular. He offered to help with the investigation in any way he could. Of course he also made a big deal of my gun being found within yards of the crime scene.”

“Aren’t you worried about that?”

“No, but I hate myself for missing that Barker had it in his possession. I thought I’d left him lying on my living room floor unarmed. He must’ve had that pistol hidden somewhere to use on an as-needed basis. In my house, in his car. I’m sure he’s held on to it, waiting for an opportunity to frame me for something.”

“Why would he kill his right-hand heavy?”

“The ogre swore to Mitch and me that he’d been roped into taking part in Barker’s absurd scheme. He’d predicted that it wasn’t going to work, but Barker was insistent they carry it out. When Barker found him in the shed, if the ogre dared to say, ‘I told you so,’ that would have made Barker livid.

“Ogre made the fatal mistake of turning his back on him. And to Barker the ogre’s death worked to his advantage. He could frame me for it, and all his dirty secrets died with the ogre. Or so he thought.”

“Oh?”

He grinned. “Before we left them, Mitch and I took both their phones. They’re in the trunk of my car along with their weapons. As the ogre handed his over, he told us he’d been recording his conversations with Barker. Just in case he ever needed an out. To use as leverage in a plea deal, he said.

“Those chats should make for some interesting listening to Derby and the PD superintendent. But Derby doesn’t plan to bring Barker in until they have something substantive, and then Derby wants to blindside him with it. I told him I thought that was a good tactic. Give Barker enough rope.”

Before they arrived at the hotel, he checked in with Mitch, who told him that he and Mutt had gone fishing, and that Mutt had caught more than he had. He agreed to hang around until dark and see to Mutt’s needs before he left.

As expected, the hotel wasn’t luxurious, but with the drapery drawn, the room was conducive to sleeping and the shower held promise.

But the instant the door closed with a solid click behind them, John placed his hands on her shoulders, turned her around, and fastened his mouth to hers with heat, urgency, and possessiveness.

She acknowledged that his arousal was an outlet for all the emotions he’d experienced last night and had had to keep under strict control. She didn’t care. She’d been containing herself, too.

Without breaking the kiss, they struggled out of their jackets and tossed them aside. He backed her into the wall, his hands going immediately to her breasts, his strongfingers kneading, palms grinding against the centers, which were already raised in anticipation.

Feeling that reaction from her, he made a darkly carnal sound and rapidly undid and discarded her top. Reaching around her, he unhooked her bra and pulled it off, then ducked his head and drew her nipple into his mouth.

Her head dropped back. Her back arched away from the wall, while, blindly, she fumbled with his belt buckle, then with the metal buttons of his fly. Finding him rigid, she stroked him through his underwear.

He groaned a swear word, his head came up, and his eyes seared hers. “Finally gonna have our afternoon rodeo?”

“Yes, please.”

He unbuttoned his shirt far enough to pull it over his head, while she shimmied out of her jeans and kicked them away. He put his hands on her bottom and squeezed as he looked down and admired first her bare breasts, now marked by his scruff, and then lower at the triangle of lace at the juncture of her thighs.

He whispered another curse, as, in one swift movement, he shoved his jeans past his hips. He lifted her onto his thighs, moved aside the leg of her underpants, and thrust into her. The raw lustiness of that caused her to gasp. There’d been no hesitation, no qualification. At this moment in time, the coupling seemed essential to both of them.

They moved against each other as though competing to see which of them could take more, give more. Then he hitched her up higher onto him, made an imperative thrust, and abruptly stopped moving.

“Kiss me,” he said hoarsely. “Now.”

Their mouths connected hotly. Her hands sought purchase on his back. He stayed as he was, but rhythmically rocked against the top of her sex until her breath caught and then ceased altogether. Unparalleled pleasure spiraled up from that spot, overtaking her body, her entire being. Her contractions around him became stronger.

His entire body tensed; he gave a sharp cry. She felt his pulsing in the innermost part of her, like an extension of her heartbeat.

Eventually their breathing returned to some semblance of normal. He separated from her, but caught her against his chest as she sagged toward him.

Together, they sank to the floor and sat facing, limbs loose and entangled, hands languidly caressing, faces flushed and nuzzling.

After a time, he stood and pulled her up with him. She followed docilely as he led her into the bathroom, where he turned on the shower. They lathered themselves, then each other. She was washing his chest when she addressed the triangle below his Adam’s apple. “You haven’t asked, but I’m on the pill.”

“I should have pulled out.”

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