CHAPTER TWO

Tim turned his head and captured my lips with his. He took us right down to the sofa. Seconds later he was sliding inside of me.

I tossed my head back, shouting in triumph. Wrapping myself around him, I held on tight as he moved over me with sure, deep strokes. My brain shut off. Everything else melted away, and it was only the two of us.

"You feel so good," he groaned.

"I love you," I whispered, digging my nails into his back.

In response he lifted one of my legs up higher, so that now he hit a spot deep inside of my core. I immediately felt myself begin to go. The orgasm crashed over me. Burying my face into his shoulder, I shouted my way through it.

"God, I love you," he said as he followed me a moment later.

Afterwards, we staggered off to the bathroom for a shower. Then once we cleaned up, we got dressed...sort of. Tim was wearing a pair of sweatpants he'd left previously, and I had put on an oversized t-shirt. Side by side we made breakfast together and then went to my kitchen table. In an excellent mood from the great sex, I was feeling happy and rather relaxed.

Tim, bless him, was still trying to talk to me about what had happened the day before but even as I tried to listen, my thoughts kept wandering.

He sat there…tanned, buff, and shirtless, and all I could think about was how soon I could get him into my bed for another round. Granted the man needed time to recover, but after more than two years together, I was well aware that Tim's ‘recharge time' was typically and gloriously brief.

In fact, I was currently having a hard time keeping my hands off him as we sat at the table. At that moment my left hand was in his lap, and it had not escaped my notice that even as he lectured me about being more vigilant with my personal safety…my man was clearly reacting to my touch.

Perfect.

Round two, I estimated as I trailed a fingertip across him, would be underway in a matter of minutes. Rising to my feet, I picked up my empty plate and reached across him for his—deliberately putting my boobs right in his face.

"Oh, excuse me." I acted as if that had been accidental.

"Mmmm…" Tim stopped mid-lecture and buried his face between them.

I stayed where I was, allowing him to nuzzle and nip. Then abruptly I spun away and took the dishes to the sink. He made a grab for my waist, and I eluded him. I placed the dishes in the sink and fought not to laugh when I heard his chair scrape across the floor.

"Cordelia." His voice was deeper and gravelly. "This is a serious situation. Don't try and distract me with sex again. We really need to talk about this."

"Well, I really don't need you to make my anxiety any worse, and I don't want to talk about it. I'd rather you take me back to bed."

"Damn it, Cordelia," he complained with a half laugh. "You aren't paying attention to anything that I'm saying."

"Uh oh. Now I'm in trouble." I gave him a slow smile. "I suppose, Deputy, that you should take me very firmly in hand for not paying attention..."

Trailing off, I shook my hair back and tried something that I hadn't done before. I gave him a very blunt, very explicit suggestion as to how he could keep my full attention .

His eyes changed. In fact, his entire body reacted to what I'd just said.

Tim had always been a considerate and attentive lover. But for some reason, that day, I wanted so much more from him.

"Don't." He bit the word off and yet; I could see how much his shoulder muscles had tensed.

"Don't what?" I smiled very slowly. "Have I shocked you, Tim?"

He stood there breathing roughly. With my empathy I felt the desire that surged swiftly through him. Emotionally linked as we were, I saw the erotic images that flashed through his mind, and it only turned me on more.

"Go to the bedroom," he said.

Thrilled by his reaction, I hurried directly there. My feet had barely crossed the threshold, and he was right behind me, close enough that his hips brushed against my backside. His hands dropped to my waist, his mouth was gnawing on my shoulder, and he began to walk me toward the bed.

With a sharp nip to the nape of my neck, Tim lifted his mouth and tugged the t-shirt over my head. Spinning me around quickly so that we were facing one another, he then pulled me close and kissed me. His tongue swooped in and claimed my mouth, and I groaned as he cupped my breasts in his hands and began to knead.

He tore his mouth from mine and began to move lower, trailing kisses over my breasts. I felt his hands guiding me to sit on the bed, and then he was kneeling before me, easing me down to lay back against the sheets.

Roughly he shoved my legs apart and with a low growl, he dropped his face between them. His tongue was swiping up inside me a moment later and I shouted from the pleasure of it. Sinking my hands in his hair, I hung on as he held my legs open wide and devoured.

I was on the very brink, when he suddenly stopped and lifted his head.

He smiled. "Not so fast, Cordelia."

I groaned in disappointment, but then his fingers were pushing inside of me, which had me moaning and writhing all over again.

"I think you're wet enough now," he said in a low, rough voice.

"Oh god," I managed to say, right before he tugged his sweats down.

He dropped down over me and hooked his arms under my legs, yanking my legs higher so that the backs of my knees were draped over his shoulders. A second later, he slammed home.

I responded with a happy shout.

Tim turned his hands, grabbed a hold of my arms, and held me firmly in place while his hips began to piston. He was a little rough, and it was hot as hell.

In response, all of my feminine muscles clamped down around him.

"Do you like this?" he asked darkly.

" Yes ." I shuddered when he tightened his grip. "Yes, I love it."

I was unable to move. My heart began to beat faster, realizing that he had taken complete control. In response I became wetter.

Tim felt it. I could see by the look on his face. "Do you want more?" he growled.

"Oh gods." I began to shake with excitement. "I want everything . Take me any way you like."

In answer he slammed his hips forward and plundered. My lover of the past two years had finally snapped the leash on his control—and it was glorious.

By the time he was finished with me, I didn't even know my own name.

***

I think I may have passed out, because when I finally had my wits about me again, it was one o'clock in the afternoon; and I had to be at the pool in an hour. I swore and jumped out of bed, surprised to discover that Tim was no longer there.

My body ached all over and yet, at the same time it sang too. I'd never had such amazing orgasms in my life. I couldn't wait to do that with him all over again.

I did make it to the pool on time, and managed to hit a drive-thru and grab a burger and a soft drink on my way in. At two o'clock on the dot I strolled in the building with a smile on my face. I dumped my bag in my office, slurped the last of my soda, and saw I had several text messages from each of my sisters. Scrolling through them, I ignored their various messages telling me to be careful, not to walk to my car alone… Yadda, yadda, yadda.

Deliberately I blocked out all of their concern. I could feel their worry and unease from clear across town. I knew they meant well, but it was too much—I needed a break from their emotions. Because if they kept this up, I'd be having chronic anxiety attacks again.

Taking a deep breath, I picked up my clipboard and snagged my whistle. I needed to concentrate on my job. The girls deserved a coach who was focused and on task. Squaring my shoulders, I walked out to the pool deck to get the girls' high school swim team practice underway.

A few hours later practice was wrapping up. The girls were chatting and drying off, and I was sitting on one of the lower bleachers going over their times when I noticed that Tim was walking across the pool deck. I smiled, pleased to see him, until I realized that he wasn't alone. Austin and the silver-haired detective I'd spoken to the previous night were also there.

Tim met my eyes as he and the other two men walked straight for me. The set expression on his face let me know that this wasn't a casual drop in. Tim was in uniform, and Austin and the other detective had their badges in plain sight.

This was obviously about the letters. My heart slammed once and began to race in apprehension.

Austin spoke first. "Ms. Golden."

I stood up clutching my clip board. "Detective Callahan." It seemed only right that I address him formally—since he had done the same. Nodding to the other men, I fought to keep my voice level. "Deputy Emerson, Detective Miller."

"Ma'am." Detective Miller returned my nod.

Tim stepped forward. "Could the four of us speak privately? In your office perhaps?"

"Certainly," I replied. "Let me get my swimmers settled."

"Is everything okay, Coach?" one of my swimmers asked.

I managed to smile at her. "Yes, Lynn, it is."

Lynn passed suspicious eyes over the officers. "I can stay with you if you want."

I reached out and gave her arm a friendly squeeze. "It's fine. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Okay," she said with a nod. "I'll clear everyone out of here so you can have your meeting with no interruptions." With that, she picked up her pool bag and began to herd the rest of her team toward the exit.

"Thank you, Lynn," I called after her.

The teen flashed me a big smile from over her shoulder. "I got your back, Coach."

I returned my attention to the three men. "Gentlemen, if you'd follow me?" I walked straight to my office and opened the door for them. After heading in last, I closed it behind me. There was a large glass window in the door and another on the wall beside it that overlooked the pool. Contrary to what most people thought, my office was separate and not connected to the swimmers' dressing rooms.

Going directly to my desk, I sat behind it. I did that for three reasons. First, it made me appear more in charge of the situation and second, I could keep my shaking hands out of sight beneath the desktop. Finally: it would help shield me from the three officers' emotions.

The desk was the best and most discrete psychic shield I could make for my office. It literally created a physical barrier. When I'd first taken the job at the aquatic center, I had placed crystals and small packets of salt inside of my desk to help ward off bad vibes and to absorb any random stray emotions from others.

Tim stayed standing by the door, while Austin and the other detective sat in the pair of chairs that were across the small room and got right to business.

Austin began to speak. "We pulled the security footage from the aquatic center parking lot from yesterday. Unfortunately, your car was not parked in a section that was on camera."

I picked up my crystal paperweight from the desk. A large, polished oval of labradorite, the shimmering blue stone was used to deflect negativity. It was also highly protective. "Did the camera happen to pick up anyone dressed in a gray sweatshirt with the hood up?"

Tim's eyes narrowed at my question, but before he could speak Detective Miller answered me. "No, it did not. We believe that whoever did this was aware of exactly where the security cameras were aimed."

"Which would be closer to the entrance," I said, shaking my head.

"Ms. Golden." Detective Miller pulled a small notepad from his jacket pocket. "Have you had any contact recently with your former boyfriend, Chase Montoya?"

I blinked at the older man's question.

"Cordelia," Austin said gently. "Part of our investigation means that we are taking a look into your background. Your past relationships and friends."

My stomach cramped hard at the news, but I managed to answer the question. "No, Detective Miller. I haven't heard from or seen Chase since my last competition."

"Which was when?" Miller asked politely.

"Nationals. That was five years ago."

He nodded. "And may I ask why your relationship ended?"

It was everything I had not to squirm with embarrassment. Instead, I stroked the labradorite and let some of its soothing vibrations keep me calm. "If you've looked into my past, Detective Miller, I'm sure that you probably found plenty of gossipy stories about my breakup with Chance."

"The media certainly played up your romance during the Olympics," Miller commented.

I blew out a long breath. "Yes, they did."

"Were you engaged to Mr. Montoya?"

"No." I made sure my voice was calm as I spoke. "Despite what was written, Chase and I were never engaged."

"He went on to make quite the career for himself as an analyst and announcer for the networks, didn't he?"

I nodded. "For a time."

Detective Miller flipped back a few pages in his notebook. I felt the disingenuousness of the act the second he did it. He didn't need to refer to his notes—he already had everything memorized.

"Ah…" He flipped a few more pages. "I have it here that Mr. Montoya was let go from the network after a series of complaints about his behavior with other female employees—just last year."

"As I said earlier, Detective Miller, I have not kept in touch with Mr. Montoya. I'm no longer a competitor or a part of the elite swimming world."

The older detective pointed to a grouping of framed photos on my office wall. "Yet you still display photos of yourself on the podium at the Olympics receiving your medals. A silver in the team relay and an individual bronze for the 200-meter freestyle. Isn't that right?"

I inclined my head. "Correct."

Detective Williams leaned farther out of his chair to look at the third photo. "And there you are winning gold at the World Championships, the year after the Olympics." He glanced around the office again. "I'm surprised that you don't publically display your medals here too."

The detective was starting to piss me off. "The photos are there to inspire my swimmers, and to help influence our donors and sponsors. Folks love the idea that an Olympian is a part of their sports program. More donations to the team and the center means a better swimming program for the girls."

Tim stood up straight and addressed the detective. "The parents also love the fact that an Olympic and World Championship medalist is coaching their kid. Detective Williams, do you have any idea how much prestige Ms. Golden lends to the swim program here at the aquatic center?"

Finally, I thought. Tim is speaking up for me.

"The local high school is thrilled to have her as their girls' swim coach," Tim continued. "Last year, two of Cordelia's swimmers received scholarships to major universities."

"Oh?" The detective perked up at that.

Setting the paperweight back on my desktop, I reached in one of my desk drawers and pulled out a small scrapbook. After opening the album, I slid it across the desk to the detective. On the pages were newspaper articles and photos of my swimmers signing national letters of intent to their universities. There were also photos of me with my swim teams over the past three years, and a few newspaper clippings and online articles that I had printed out and saved.

Austin was looking at the scrapbook over the shoulder of his colleague. "Is it possible that this harassment is from a disgruntled former swimmer of yours or a parent?"

"I sincerely hope not," I said. "But I can tell you that I have never had a serious problem or disagreement with a parent, or even another coach."

Detective Williams perused more photos in the album. "No frustrated parent demanding to know why their baby isn't winning races or getting college offers like the other teammates?"

I smirked. "Every coach deals with unhappy parents from time to time. But to date I've had no severe issues."

The detective flipped more pages, examining the photos and articles. Then he sat back in his chair and returned his attention to his own notebook. "Did you have any backlash or unwanted male attention when you modeled swimwear for that national campaign?"

I barely managed to bite back a rude reply. Taking a calming breath I said, "The whole purpose of the ad was to promote the Olympic women's swim team and our sponsor—the swimwear maker. A racerback style suit shows much less skin than most traditional one-piece swimsuits."

"I see." He didn't bother to look up at me now, instead he scribbled in his notebook.

"I'll remind you that the ad you are inquiring about is from five years ago."

Now he glanced up at me. "I only asked since it was featured in one of the letters you received. If I have offended you Ms. Golden, it was not my intention."

Austin stood up. "I think we're done here, Williams."

The relief I felt hearing that was so great that it was almost comical.

Tim opened my office door and held it open for the other two men. As they left Austin suggested that I start parking my car closer to the door—in an area that would fall under the gaze of the security cameras. Detective Williams asked me to let him know immediately if I received any other threatening letters.

I followed them out to the pool deck and promised them that I would. With a nod, the detectives were walking away and toward the exit.

Tim stayed by my side as the detectives said goodbye. Once they had left the pool area, I reached for his hand. "Thank you for being here today, Tim."

He tugged his hand free from mine. "Let's go back in your office. We need to talk." Then he spun on his heel and went straight inside.

Surprised by him pulling away from me and his curt tone, I followed him in and closed the door behind me. "What's going on?" I asked. "Why are you angry?"

Tim shook his head at me and began to rub at his right temple. Despite his aggravated expression, he looked fabulous. The khaki deputy's uniform made his hazel eyes stand out and the overhead lights made his hair more golden than dark blonde.

Going directly to him, I wrapped my arms around his waist. "After all of the fun we had last night..." I planted a soft kiss to his mouth. "…I expected that you would've had a smile on your face the next time you saw me."

His hands dropped to my hips. "What is it going to take to have you take this situation seriously?"

Encouraged by his hands that were now moving lower, I nuzzled a bit closer. "I'm taking this very seriously," I promised as his hands roamed over my backside.

Now that we were chest-to-chest I was picking up on all of his feelings. In fact, a sympathetic headache flashed behind my own eyes, and it was mirroring the throbbing pain that I knew he was feeling. Tim was flirting with a migraine, and to help him, I pressed a soft kiss to his temple and concentrated.

Tim flinched slightly and then he stilled as his headache began to fade.

Pressing my body tighter against his, I absorbed his headache and let it flow through me. The pain ran down my chest and lower to my legs, finally draining away through my feet and to the floor.

Healing work cost me. It took lots of physical energy, so I didn't do it very often. But this was Tim, and I loved him. Blowing out a shaky breath, I rested my head against his shoulder.

"Cordelia." He murmured my name, dropped a kiss to the top of my head, and simply held me close for a moment.

"I love you Tim." I snuggled closer. "And if this office was more private, I'd show you exactly how much I do."

"Hey," he said, setting me back from him so we were eye-to-eye. "Not every argument between us can be settled with sex."

"I wasn't aware we were arguing."

"That's because you always do your best to distract me whenever I try and talk some sense into you."

Deliberately, I stepped closer to run a single finger over his chest. "Can't help it. There's something about you that makes my hormones go crazy."

"Crazy." He agreed with a huff. "You goaded me into losing control last night. Admit it."

"Sure did." I chuckled when he blushed. "Let's do that again. Tonight."

"Cordelia, I'm serious."

"Oh, so am I."

"See?" He spun away from me. "That's exactly what I mean! There is a serious threat to your safety, and instead of taking my advice or even pretending to listen to me and my concerns, you go straight into seduction mode. Do you have any idea how insulting that is?"

I blinked at his raised voice. In the two years we'd been together he'd never shouted at me before. "Tim," I began and reached out to him.

"No." He yanked away from me and stepped clear. "Let me put it to you this way—if you were concerned about something…frightened even, and you went to try and talk to me about it; how would you feel if I simply ignored your fears and instead sidetracked you with rowdy, wild sex?"

"Well, I—"

"Sure, the first time it would be unexpected and exciting," he continued. "But how would you feel, Cordelia, if every time you wanted to talk to me about something serious, I kept upping the game. Taking things darker, and while you were distracted and all turned on, I took advantage of the fact that you were in too much of a sexual haze to have a chance to say no?"

Offended and hurt, I folded my arms over my chest. "Are you suggesting that I somehow took away your free will last night? That I bespelled you?"

"Did you?" he asked. "Have you ever done magick on me without my permission?"

I opened my mouth to deny it and found that I couldn't. Because I had literally just worked a healing on him without his permission.

His scowl deepened. "Your silence is not very comforting to me, Cordelia."

"It's not what you think!" I insisted.

Tim's eyebrows went straight to his hairline. "So you have worked magick on me?"

"Formally? No," I said as I began to panic. "It was more of a spontaneous sort of working. Nothing premeditated. It was only to help you feel better—"

" Feel better ?" he demanded. "What have you done, Cordelia? Did you use some sort of magickal roofie on me?"

My jaw dropped in shock at his accusation.

"You do realize," he said quietly, "that if our roles were reversed what you admitted to would be criminal, right?"

"I admitted nothing of the sort!" I reached out, stepping toward him. "I've worked healing magick for you, to help you with tension headaches, and that's all!"

He stepped away from me. "What are you talking about?"

"How's that migraine you had brewing only a couple of minutes ago?" I tossed out. "Is it still there?"

He jolted and paled.

Before he could speak, I continued. "Your headache is gone because when I kissed your temple, I drew out the pain. With my psychic empathy, I could feel that you were hurting, and I only wanted to—"

"That's manipulation," he said cutting me off. "You used your magick—without my permission—to get the response you wanted from me."

"No." I shook my head. "I simply used my gifts to help ease the pain of the man I love."

He folded his arms across his chest. "Do you use your gifts often to get your way?"

"Tim!" I gasped, shocked at the cheap shot.

"I think we need to take a break for a while," Tim said as he opened the door and stepped out. "Goodbye, Cordelia."

He shut the door firmly behind himself and walked away without a backward glance. I stood there, mutely staring after him. A few moments later, when the far door that led to the main hall of the aquatic center swung closed behind him too, I pressed my hand to my mouth to muffle a sob.

Tim had gone. He'd ended things between us.