Chapter Forty-Four

Graves

I should’ve known this would happen the second I’m around her. I haven’t been with her in what feels like forever. Not with both of us present and aware anyways. Sure, I could’ve woken her up with my cock, but in all honesty, I’ve been so tired and run down, I didn’t even know if it would work. Evidently, I was wrong.

She’s rolling her hips, rubbing her pussy up and down the hardness beneath my jeans. I can see how wet her tiny little panties are every time her body writhes up over the head of my erection. Fuck me, her boldness is so hot. It’s a shame I have to turn her down.

I flip her under me on the couch and press my bulge into her clit. Mallory’s objection to her loss of control dissolves into a moan as I take my turn teasing her. She’s close to falling into bliss when I pull away. The devilish side of my personality rears its ugly head as I deny her the orgasm she was chasing. I give her a quick peck on her pillowy lips then scramble away from her before she can grab me again.

“Mind if I take a shower?” I say, holding back a laugh at the irritation I see on her face. Before she can answer me, I take off down the hallway, stopping at the closet for towels. I hear her bare feet slapping across the hardwood towards me and I duck into the bathroom just in time, locking the door behind me.

“You’ll pay for that!” she threatens from the other side of the door. I’m sure I will, and I’ll love every minute of it.

∞∞∞

I haven’t heard from the precinct since I left yesterday. The thought that the case isn’t progressing because I’m here with Mallory has surfaced multiple times but I stuff it down; snuff it out with her kisses and comforting embrace.

I know I’m entitled to my time off, even if I’m technically on-call. My uncle practically shoved me out the door yesterday, claiming I was going to kill him with overtime. I’m not. It’s just his way of getting me to agree to time off.

I feel her lace her fingers through mine as we drive toward the next town over. There’s an antique store there, sure to have something she will fawn over.

“Hey, stay with me,” she speaks softly, soothing my frazzled mind as it swims with details of Melissa’s case, and the two before it.

“Sorry.” I smile, but it feels forced. I don’t want that with her. I want her to be able to read me like I do her.

“Are you thinking about work?” she asks and I nod. “Can I help at all?”

“With a serial killer?”

“Sure,” she beams, infusing her light into my veins. Her eagerness to help just to lighten my burden lifts my mood. “I used to listen to a lot of true crime podcasts, back when I wanted to kill my parents.”

I can’t contain the laugh that bursts out of me, complete shock at her words and the irony of the situation overcome me.

“What?” I choke out.

“I’m kidding...kind of,” she laughs softly. “Victoria used to lend me one of her old cell phones so I could listen while I cleaned the hotel rooms.” Is she just ribbing me to distract me from my thoughts or is she serious? Could a darkness that matches my own really swim beneath the surface of her innocent demeanour? I need to know.

“Have you been reading up on the murders?” I ask, gauging how much I have to tell her since the last time we spoke about them.

“Yeah, I wanted to know what was going on so close to my house,” she explains.

I proceed to tell her things I know I shouldn’t. Details that haven’t been released yet so as to not cause a panic. I tell her about the victims, the online dating, the coloured contacts, and how the killer left Melissa’s things at the crime scene.

“Did you find anything useful in the purse?” she asks.

“Aside from her ID, no.” I reply.

I pull into the parking lot of Mary’s Antique Boutique , and eagerly await my little siren’s reaction. She’s so wrapped up in her thoughts, I don’t even think she realizes the truck has stopped moving.

“What are you thinking?” I prod.

“I don’t want to discourage you.”

“I’m already discouraged, whatever you tell me won’t bother me.”

“I think the killer has someone he’s fixated on and he just isn’t ready to kill her yet, or he can’t.” This thought also briefly crossed my mind, but without the proof to back it up, it’s a flimsy theory at best.

“And I think the purse was left behind as a way to thin out the police presence. Yes, it gave you her name and address but nothing else. The killer took the time to clean the body and the scene, he took her phone but not the rest of her stuff… It doesn’t make sense to me, it has to be a distraction. He didn’t finish his process. He’s going to need to kill again and he needs the mill to do that. What better way for that to happen than to leave evidence that will have your team running down leads he knows will go nowhere?”

That thought however, hasn’t crossed my mind. I was so sure he left it because he killed Melissa out of rage, abandoning his whole routine. If he did do as Mallory thinks, then he’s smarter than I’ve given him credit for. The thought twists and grows in my mind. Does he know more about the inner workings of law enforcement than a typical civilian?

Mallory’s excited squeal shatters the silence in the tiny cab of the truck and scares the absolute shit out of me.

“What the hell, Mal?”

“I love this place, come on!” She flings open the door and it bounces on the hinges. I wince in literal pain as she slams the door on my baby and races around to open my door. Before she can reef it open, I depress the lock and she scowls.

Fuck, she is perfect. I take just a moment to bask in her; her living and feeling life because of me, her brilliant mind and beautiful soul. She’s all mine and I’m so fucking lucky.

An evil little smirk pulls at her lips and she taps her finger on the window. “Little pig, little pig, let me in,” she taunts.

Did she just… Oh, hell no. The urge to punish her for that disrespect barrels through me. I unlock the door and stare her down as I vacate the vehicle. She doesn’t move a muscle, doesn’t cower beneath my gaze. She wants this, to work me up so bad I lose control and finally fuck her. Keep dreaming, baby. I’ve had to restrain myself from you for months, I’m a pro now.

“Got quite a filthy mouth, don’t you?” I say as my chest brushes up against hers. I hear the way her breath catches, see the way her eyes dilate from the mere close vicinity. She looks up at me from beneath her lashes as she trails her fingertips up my arms, across my shoulders, and linking them behind my neck. On impulse, my arms encircle her, pulling Mal as close as our bodies will allow without becoming one.

“You should see what I can do with it.” My little siren taunts me endlessly. If I knew that unveiling both sides of myself wouldn’t send her running for the hills, I would tell her right now. I’m so sick of playing two people, now more than ever. I need her support and comfort in every possible way.

“Behave,” I whisper, brushing my cheek against hers. Her body tenses in my hold. I love watching the way her body responds to me, it’s just further validation that everything I did wasn’t all for nothing.

“Why? Will you punish me, Officer?” She plants a quick peck on my cheek and then proceeds to drag me across the lot towards the boutique. Laughing the entire way, as I try to hide my hard on from the wealth of senior citizens decorating the area.