Game On (14 page)

17

H
ER
MOUTH
WAS
filled with ice water. And chunks of ice, he realized as she moved her mouth up and down on him.

Cold rivulets were running down his cock, and yet there were hints of heat in her mouth. He could barely stand it.

Then, when he was sure he’d die on the spot, she pulled away.

He felt movement on the bed as though she was climbing onto it. Oh, yes, her knee brushed his belly as she straddled him.

“You know what I learned today about dommes?” she asked softly. He couldn’t form words, never mind think. He grunted.

“I learned that a professional dominatrix doesn’t have sex with her clients.” She hovered over him, so close he could feel her warm, slick heat.

She waited for him to get her meaning and groan helplessly.

“Good thing I’m not a professional,” she said, and drove her hot, wet luscious body down onto him.

Hot, sweet, tight. Oh, he couldn’t hold on. He couldn’t.

She rode him and he bucked beneath her, wishing he had his hands free to hold her, wishing he had his eyes free to watch her eyes cloud over and her head fall back the way it did when she came.

But he couldn’t do either of those things; he could only thrust up and up, wild with need. She was as wild as he, her hips gyrating madly as she took him deep within her body. He heard her moan and then he felt her body clench around him as her climax hit.

It was all he needed to burst his dam.

With a surge, he thrust up and up, crying hoarsely his release.

* * *

“U
M
,
DO
YOU
THINK
you could untie me now?”

She sat back on her heels and regarded him. At least she’d removed the blindfold. But she seemed uncertain about taking off the restraints. “I don’t know. I kind of like you like this. Powerless. In my complete control.”

“I promise that you can do that to me anytime,” he said. “You don’t need to tie me down. I’ll go willingly.”

“It’s more fun when you’re tied up.”

“Well, how ’bout we change spots and I’ll tie you up?”

“Nice try. A dom/sub relationship only goes one way.”

He had a bad feeling he’d been way too quick to let her take control. Seemed she wasn’t in a “first you, now me” kind of mood. Which he might be okay with if she’d hurry up and untie his hands.

He thought about it for a minute. “You know, if I had my hands free, there are so many ways I could please you, Madame S.”

“You do have a point,” she agreed, and finally leaned over and unfastened the restraints. He waited until she had the second one off, waited until she’d stopped looking at him with suspicion.

Then he pounced.

She shrieked, laughing as he grabbed her wrists and pinned them with his hands. “Not fair,” she cried, trying to wiggle out from under him, which only served to get him all excited again.

From the way she was beginning to breathe heavily he suspected she was getting worked up again too.

“Control,” he informed her, sucking one plump nipple into his mouth and nipping it gently, “is more fun when it’s shared.” She sighed and arched her back as he went for the second one.

“Agreed.”

* * *

S
ERENA
FELT
A
tenderness between her legs as she worked out on the elliptical the next morning. As she got the machine really moving, she also felt the tenderness in her nipples where Adam had tormented them yesterday. She couldn’t believe the intensity of the sex they’d experienced. She was letting herself go in ways she’d never have believed she was capable of. It wasn’t that she was a prude. She’d been in sex stores before, purchased the odd discreet toy, but to get herself rigged out as a dominatrix and take complete control of her lover’s body was something completely new.

He’d loved it.

Amazingly, so had she.

Games. She seemed to be surrounded by them. Hockey games as the Hunter Hurricanes did their best to dominate league play; video games, which were serious business to Marcus Lemming and her new junior partner, Lisa. And now sex games between her and Adam. Which, now she came to think about it, were also serious stuff in some ways. It seemed as though in order for her to let go like that in sex play she had to trust in a way she never had before.

What did that mean?

When you opened up to a man like that? Trusted him body and soul. Allowed yourself to be completely vulnerable.

She nearly tripped herself on the workout apparatus as the obvious answer hit her.

She was in love.

In love with Adam.

“Are you all right?” a man’s voice asked from the machine beside hers. “You sounded like my dog does after he eats one of my socks.”

“Yes,” she said, finding her rhythm once again. “I just had a...choking thing.”

“Sure. Glad I don’t need to dust off my CPR skills.”

It occurred to her that this man was using Stan’s machine and had been for a few days now. “Where’s Stan?” she asked, then felt stupid because why would this man have a clue who Stan was?

“Stan Wozniak?” Okay, he had a clue.

“Yes.”

“He went to Poland to visit his mother and sisters.”

“Stan’s in Poland?” She’d been so caught up in her own affairs she hadn’t been coming to the gym regularly. Hadn’t even realized that Stan wasn’t there, either.

“Yeah. I think he gets back tomorrow. This is usually his machine. I use that one in the corner. But the view’s better here. You can see out the window.”

“I know. That’s why I like this machine.”

“Maybe I’ll start getting here five minutes before Stan from now on.” He grabbed his towel and wiped sweat from his neck. “You snooze, you lose.”

Even through a busier-than-usual day, she felt a vague niggle of discomfort. Stan was away. The messages had stopped.

Stan was coming back tomorrow.

When Mark dropped her off at Adam’s place, she found him shoving a freshly washed jersey into his hockey bag. “Hey,” he said, “I ate without you. There’s pizza in the box.”

“Okay,” she said. She gave him a quick kiss, changed into black jeans and a black T-shirt. Washed up and grabbed a slice of pizza. She spread open the newspaper he’d obviously been reading earlier. “What time’s your game?”

“Nine-fifteen. It’s only forty-five minutes long. Come and cheer the team,” he said. “Be a supportive girlfriend.”

“I’m not your girlfriend,” she snapped. Since she’d realized she was in love with him, everything had felt strange.

He seemed unfazed by having his head snapped off. “Okay. Be a supportive fake girlfriend. It’ll be fun. And you can meet my parents.”

“Meet your parents?”

“Yeah. Ever since Mom and I had our talk, she’s been trying to get to a few games. You know, be supportive. Cheer in an embarrassingly loud voice.”

He made it sound foolish but she knew how important this was for him. And she liked his mother instinctively for so quickly trying to change her behavior. She felt cranky and emotionally vulnerable now that she knew she was in love with Adam, but she also wanted to spend as much time as she could with the guy since she was sure he’d be gone as soon as her case was closed. Which she suspected was imminent. “Okay, I’ll come.”

She didn’t want to mess up his concentration but she knew she had to tell him about Stanley. So she did on the way to the rink.

Adam didn’t react as strongly as she’d imagined he would. “So he gets back tomorrow?”

“That’s what Gary thinks. Gary’s the man who was working out beside me today.”

“Maybe don’t go to the gym for a couple of days. Let’s hope Stanley got laid in Poland and has a new crush.”

“So you don’t think it’s him?”

“It could be Stanley. Could also be a list of other people. The important thing is to be ready for anything and to keep you safe.”

She reached for his hand. “And to have fun tonight.”

In the sportsplex where the Hurricanes played, there were eight rinks. Upstairs was a bar and snack shop surrounded by huge walls of glass so spectators could view the action on all the rinks in comfort. When Adam headed to the dressing room, she ran upstairs to the snack bar and bought herself a hot chocolate.

Banners hung over the rinks celebrating various victories over the years. In one rink she watched young women play hockey. A few had bright pink helmets on and many a ponytail hung down over the back of a jersey.

On the next rink over figure skaters practiced. All loops and jumps and a pair of ice dancers waltzing.

Next to that was, strangely, an indoor soccer game. Instead of ice, the playing surface was turf.

She ran back downstairs because she preferred to be closer to the action. Closer to Adam. She sat in the bleachers and was soon joined by an older couple. The man looked so much like an older version of Adam that she smiled at them and the woman took the man’s hand and brought him over. They sat beside her. “I’m Adam’s mother, June. And this is Dennis.”

She shook both their hands. “I’m so glad to meet you. I’m Serena.”

“I thought you must be. You’re wearing Adam’s jacket.”

She laughed. “I am.” The down jacket was far too big but much warmer than anything she owned.

She liked his parents immediately. They were comfortable people. Easy to talk to. Nice. When the teams filed in, there weren’t many people watching. The three of them, a couple of young guys and two women in hockey gear who seemed to be sitting down for a rest after their own game.

When play started, Serena quickly got caught up in the game. So close to the action, she could hear the bang of skates on boards, bodies on boards, the crunching slide of skates on ice and the constant back-and-forth between players.

“Open, open, open,” one would yell.

“Here, here, here,” another would cry. She wondered how the guys managed to keep track of where everyone was. She could barely keep track of one man. Adam was number 10. When he was on the ice, she had eyes for no one else. He scored the first goal, which meant a great deal of loud and embarrassing cheering from his three supporters.

When the game was over, a sweaty Adam came over to his cheering section. “Hi, Mom, Dad,” he said.

“You were terrific, honey,” his mother gushed.

“Nice play, son.”

“Thanks. You met Serena?”

“Of course.”

“Listen, can you stay with her while I grab a quick shower? I’ll be back in ten.”

“Of course, dear.”

He didn’t stop to hear her argue that she was perfectly safe in a public sports complex for ten minutes.

When they got back to his place, she tried to tell him as much but then he started kissing her and she lost her train of thought.

18

A
DAM
SEEMED
TO
have a
smile perma-glued to his face. Great sex with an amazing woman could do that to a man. His partner only seemed more miserable than usual. “Stop sounding so happy,” Joey snapped as he drove them toward the docks where a container ship was being held up for containing suspicious cargo.

“What?” He was sitting minding his own business, reliving some choice moments with Serena in the privacy of his own head. What was Virge’s problem?

“You’re whistling.”

He was? “I was?”

“Yeah. You’re not a whistler. You start that up and I’ll have to get a new partner.”

They’d been partners for more than a year. Adam had no wish to break in somebody new. “Sorry. I’ll stick to morose silence so you feel at home.”

“Thank you.”

They drove on in silence. Maybe Adam was banned from whistling but not even Joey the Virgin could stop the direction of his thoughts. Joey’d whistle, too, if he had a storehouse of recent memories like Adam’s. He’d sing arias if he had the images Adam did crowding his head. Serena in nothing but stilettos and fishnets.

Serena, her eyes clouding over and tiny cries emerging from her luscious mouth as he drove her to her peak. Serena, sleeping beside him, her hair spilling onto his shoulder. Her face unguarded in sleep. He’d only known her a few weeks, and now he couldn’t imagine her not being in his life.

The streets rolled past and he forced himself to start focusing on the day’s task. “What do we know about the container ship?” he asked Joey.

“Not much. Suspicious cargo. What the hell does that mean? It’s drugs? Stolen cars? Stowaways?” He shook his head. “Probably get taken away from us anyway if it’s anything good.” Joey was still irritable that the DEA had claimed jurisdiction of the grow-op investigation when it turned out to be part of a much larger network.

Adam would normally be more keen to tackle a big case, but right now he didn’t want to be involved in anything that would involve a lot of overtime. He needed to be around for Serena.

They stopped to grab a takeout coffee on the way. “You can buy, Mr. Happy,” Joey said, pulling over.

It was his turn anyway, so he merely grunted and dashed into the corner coffee place for two takeouts. When he got back to the car, Joey pulled a U-turn the second he was inside the car.

“What’s going on?”

“The container ship will have to wait.” He sounded keyed up, as if something big was happening.

“Why?”

“Suspicious death,” Joey said. “Downtown. Just got called in.”

“What do we know?” The crime rate in Hunter, Washington, wasn’t very high. Murder was extremely rare. Suspicious death usually meant somebody didn’t die of old age in their bed or of a known illness in hospital.

“Female. Found in the lobby of an apartment building. Tenant found her. Had the sense not to move her.”

An awful sense of dread crept over Adam’s skin. “What’s the address?”

Joey told him. It was Serena’s building.

He didn’t say a word, but every fiber of his being shouted,
No! Not Serena.

Maybe she wasn’t dead. Joey had said no one had touched the body. It could be another game. Maybe the perp had just knocked Serena out, not killed her.

Adam had to believe that. He had to hang on.

It took all his self-control not to scream at Joey to drive faster. The guy was going as fast as he could.

When they drew closer to the building, he snapped, “Go left down the next lane. It’s faster.” He knew this area well because he’d driven it a lot lately and he’d mapped out the area in his mind in case he ever needed to get to Serena fast. Or get her away from the area in haste.

Never had he anticipated this scenario. He refused to let himself imagine the worst. They were almost there.

Joey pulled up in front of the building with a screech of tires. A couple of uniforms were already there.

Adam didn’t wait for Joey to turn off the engine. He was out of the car and racing for the building.

A uniform opened it for him. “Haven’t touched anything. Witness who called it in is over there. Body’s this way.”

He led Adam around the corner to the trio of elevators. Their shoes clipped against the marble lobby floor. A churchlike hush enveloped the place. Even though there were probably a dozen people hanging around watching, no one spoke.

Adam slipped on surgical gloves. Had trouble because his hands wouldn’t stay steady.

She lay facedown. A spill of black hair draped over her face like a shroud. She wore a black skirt and a blue sweater. One high heel had fallen off and lay beside her on the floor.

Adam wasn’t a praying man, but right now he wished he were. Wished he could beg for Serena to be alive. He’d do anything, give up his own life if it would preserve hers. Because a world without Serena wasn’t a world he cared to live in.

He knelt. Pressed two fingers to her carotid artery. No pulse. Her skin was as cold as the marble she lay on. Even before he’d touched her he’d known she was dead. There was a stillness about the body he recognized. The stillness of death.

He felt a kind of fog come over him. He knew he’d face the full impact of his pain soon enough, but for now the fog helped keep him from experiencing the full horror of the moment.

Gently, he brushed the hair back to reveal her face.

A stranger’s face.

* * *

T
HE
RELIEF
A
DAM
felt was so intense he was glad he was down on his haunches. He wavered and his gaze went blank. In that moment Adam knew. He was in love with Serena. A love so intense that the thought of life without her was impossible to contemplate.

He rose slowly.

Joey stood back regarding the scene.

He removed the gloves. Walked forward. “She’s dead, all right.”

“You okay?” his partner asked.

He nodded briefly. “This is Serena’s building. Dead woman looks like her from the back.”

Joey blew out a breath as the obvious implication hit. He’d been involved in her case in a peripheral way but he had to know that Adam wasn’t simply a cop doing his job where Serena was concerned. His involvement was as personal as it gets. “You think there could be a connection?”

Adam had a really bad feeling that there was. “I don’t know, but I don’t like it. Seems like a pretty big coincidence. Let’s talk to the woman who found the victim. Then I’m going to see Serena.”

They walked over to an older woman sitting in a lobby chair. She had the stunned look he’d come to associate with the loved ones of violent-crime victims and those who stumble on death unexpectedly.

The uniformed cop had given Adam a brief history. The woman’s name was Eleanor McCormack. She was a retired history teacher. She’d been on her way out to get groceries when she stumbled on the crime scene. Adam approached the woman. “Hi, Mrs. McCormack. I’m Detective Shawnigan. This is Detective Sorento.”

“Hello,” she said. Polite. A vinyl shopping bag on wheels, empty, sat at her feet. Her wool coat was still buttoned, ready to go out. A poodle brooch set with fake diamonds was pinned to her collar.

“Mind if we ask you a few questions?”

“No. Of course not.”

He took the chair beside her. Joey pulled a third chair around so they were sitting in a ragged circle.

“This was quite a shock for you. Can you tell us what happened?”

“Well, I was on my way out to do some shopping. Percy—that’s my dog—is out of Milk-Bones. And I need some milk and bread. Things like that.” She clasped her hands together.

“Did you take the elevator down to the lobby or the stairs?”

“The elevator. I live on the fifth floor.”

Joey had his notebook out, but Adam simply concentrated on Mrs. McCormack’s words.

“I came out of the elevator and—and there she was. The poor woman. Lying there on the floor. I didn’t know what to do. I called out, ‘Are you all right?’ but she didn’t answer. I was alarmed, of course. I didn’t know what to do. Oh, I already said that. Well, I simply didn’t. I think I knew she was dead, but I wouldn’t want to make assumptions if a life could be saved. I have my CPR, you know, from when I used to volunteer at the Shakespeare festival. Anyway—” Eleanor McCormack’s hand fluttered to her chest and he saw that it was shaking “—I checked her pulse, but there wasn’t one.”

“What time was this?”

“Not very long ago. I watched
Good Morning America
and as soon as it was over, I brushed my teeth and put on my coat. Say five minutes after that I came down. I called 911 as soon as I’d checked her pulse. It’s a good thing I remembered my cell phone. Usually I forget to unplug it from the wall, but my children insist I take it with me wherever I go. Silly, really. What did they think we did for all those years there weren’t any such thing as cell phones? Anyway, now I make sure I always have my phone in my purse when I go out.” She clutched the worn black leather bag in her lap. She seemed to realize she was rambling and stopped herself with an effort. “I called right after I checked that poor girl’s pulse.”

“Did you see anyone?”

“No. It was just me.”

“No one in the lobby? Just leaving?”

She shook her head.

“Did you hear the elevator?”

“Not that I can recall.”

Adam had a mental snapshot of the scene in his mind. He glanced at Mrs. McCormack’s purse and her bag. Realized the dead woman had nothing in her hands or around her.

“A few minutes later a couple came in the front door.” She gestured with her chin. “That’s them over there. Ghouls. Then I called the building supervisor. And the police came quite quickly. And a few other people have come out of the elevator or in from the street.”

“Do you recognize the dead woman?”

“I can’t tell. Her face was obscured by her hair. But I don’t think so.”

“Did you notice a purse or bag of any kind? When you discovered her?”

“I didn’t really pay attention. But I didn’t notice one.”

“Thank you. You’ve been very helpful. You can go now.”

Mrs. McCormack rose slowly. Glanced in the direction of the dead woman. “She seems so young. Do you suppose it was a heart attack?”

“Impossible to tell until the medical examiner gets here. You absolutely did the right thing in calling us right away and not trying to move her.”

A police photographer showed up while they were interviewing Mrs. McCormack and began snapping photos. The medical examiner and the forensic guys were right behind him.

Adam and Joey watched and waited. Joey said, “What do you think happened to her purse? Some guy hit her on the head and stole it?”

“Inside her building lobby?”

“Maybe she doesn’t carry one.”

“Then where’s her cell phone? Building key?”

“Maybe she’s lying on them.”

But when they flipped the body, there was nothing underneath her. And her skirt had pockets. When they first turned her, Adam saw a flash of red and thought for a moment the dead woman’s throat had been slit. Then his vision cleared and he realized she had a red scarf tied around her neck.

And any faint hope he’d harbored that this death was completely unrelated to Serena died a fast death.

In a few minutes the medical examiner came over to them, a portly man in his fifties. “What do you think, Doc?” Joey asked.

“Hard to tell. She’s got a bump on her head. That’s the only sign of trauma I can see. But she could have hit her head on the way down. Could be heart, an aneurism. Severe allergic reaction to something. I’ll let you know the autopsy results as soon as I can.”

“Could it be murder?”

He shrugged. A man who’d seen death in a hundred forms. “No signs of struggle or foul play. But anything’s possible.”

They began bagging the body and Adam turned away.

To Joey he said, “It’s murder, all right. That scarf around her neck? It’s like the red crayon blood Serena’s stalker drew on the happy face he scrawled. The perp killed that woman and planted the body here. I’m sure of it. He’s sending a message.”

Joey glanced at the body bag and back to Adam. “Pretty dramatic message.”

“Yeah.” He grabbed his cell phone and called Serena immediately.

“Hi, Adam,” she answered, sounding happy to hear from him.

“Where are you?”

“I’m at the office.” Obviously she heard the tension in his voice. “Is everything all right?”

“No. Stay where you are. I’m on my way. Do not let anyone in that office.”

“All right, but I wish you’d tell me—”

He disconnected. Called Mark. “You’re in lockdown. Lock the office. Nobody comes near Serena until I get there. Got that?”

“Affirmative.”

* * *

S
ERENA
TRIED
NOT
to panic, but each minute that passed as she waited for Adam to arrive seemed like an ice age. The tone of his voice told her something seriously bad had happened.

Her stomach felt jumpy and she couldn’t settle. Mark locked the front door. Drew his weapon. Put Lisa and her together in her office. Told her to lock her office door.

“What do you think happened?” Lisa asked.

“I don’t know. This is the worst part, the waiting, not knowing anything.” She couldn’t work, couldn’t sit, couldn’t do anything but pace. Lisa sat in a chair, staring at the glass sculpture. She took a tissue from the box on Serena’s desk and began dusting the colorful glass, obsessively, focused completely on her task, while Serena paced, rubbing cold hands up and down her upper arms as though she could soothe herself.

Fortunately, they didn’t have long to wait.

Adam shouted at her to open her door and she did. He looked as though he’d aged ten years and did something he’d never done before in front of Lisa and Mark.

He pulled her into his arms. Kissed her. She felt tension in every cell of his body. He squeezed her so tight she could barely breathe. She realized he was shaking.

When she pulled away, she asked, “What? What is going on?”

Adam’s partner, Joey, stood behind him. Impassive and dejected looking. But then, according to Adam, Joey always looked dejected.