Love Gone Wild: A Contemporary Romantic Comedy (10 page)

"I'll go."

Dane climbed the stairs and entered the hall. All the doors were open except one. He knocked on it. "Marissa? It's Dane. I...uh...maybe we should discuss the list." He grimaced at the lack of reply. "Maybe you'd like to go get something to eat. Are you hungry?" Silence met his second inquiry, too.
Frustration nibbled at him. If she'd just talk to him, they could work out what was bothering her. He grasped the knob and turned; the door opened. "Please, let's just talk—damn it!"

The bedroom was empty.

D
ANE HURRIED
DOWN the stairs and into the living room. "She's gone."

"What did she do? Make a rope out of sheets and climb out the window?" Tuesday tossed the remote control on the couch and stood.

Dane's panic receded. Marissa hadn't left. Not unless she'd gained the power of invisibility. "She didn't come down the stairs. I don't think she'd have jumped out the window."

"Did you check all the rooms?"

"Yes, I checked all the rooms Most of them are empty—no furniture. There's a balcony in the master bedroom. The sliding glass doors were closed, but unlocked."

"I'll check upstairs. Maybe you missed something."

"I'll look outside. Brent lives in the boondocks. There's not another house for miles. Maybe...maybe she decided to take a walk and clear her head."

Tuesday frowned. "Without telling us? That's not like her."

"
H
ONESTLY
, I DON'T know what you're—" Marissa grimaced as the man who held her wrist dragged her through a rough patch of tall grass.

"Shut up. I want my Lillie back. You're the key."

"Lillie? Lillie who?"

"Don't act stupid."

"I'm not. My IQ is quite high."

"So is hers." He stopped and looked at Marissa over his shoulder. "The only person she gives a shit about is you. If I've got you, then I've got her." His gaze narrowed. "I'm smart, too."

A cold finger of fear swept her spine. If only she hadn't gone onto the balcony for a breath of fresh air. If only she hadn't answered his child-like pleas for help. He'd been hiding behind a tree, waiting for her as she tried to find the source of the pitiful cries.

"I don't know Lillie. I swear!"

"For someone so smart, you sure are dumb."

"Marissa!" Dane's voice echoed through the forest.

"I'm here!" she yelled. "Hurry, Dane! There's a—"

The crazy man covered her mouth and pulled her against his chest. "Shut up."

Marissa gagged against the heavy scent of cheap cologne and the lingering stench of beer.
Whew. When was the last time this guy washed his shirt?

"Marissa! Where are you?"

Her heartbeat kicked up a notch as she realized Dane's voice sounded farther away. The darling idiot was going in the opposite direction. Her captor must have had the same thought because he loosened his grip, giving her just enough space to maneuver. She stomped his foot, rammed her knee into his groin then jabbed his throat. He doubled over grabbing his crotch with one hand and his neck with the other. She turned and ran toward the house.

"
I
SWEAR
THIS GUY read a textbook or something.
Serial Killing For Morons,"
muttered Kade. He looked at the pretty young woman and felt grateful, goddamned grateful, he wasn't looking at the beautiful, forever-still body of Lillian. What would happen if Michael caught her? His guts clenched. "A red scarf at every scene? Lillie hates red. If he's killing her over and over again, why the scarf? I've never seen her wear one."

"Maybe
he
wears one," answered Pete. Kade looked at his partner. His new partner. The guy who'd replaced Lillie when she disappeared. The young psych major shrugged. "Cross-dressing isn't out of the realm of possibility."

"It is for this asshole. Did you read the case file?"

"Yes, sir. Michael William Feeney. He witnessed the murder of his mother, testified against the murderer, a man named Casey Crumb—who was the dead woman's husband and his stepfather. Crumb went to jail, and Mr. Feeney and his girlfriend, who was also present at the murder, went into the Witness Protection Program."

"Michael set up Crumb. Michael wanted to get rid of his mother and get control of his girlfriend. He's smart, Pete. Smarter than you and smarter than me, but not smarter than Lillie." Kade stood and motioned to the waiting men from the coroner's office that he was finished inspecting the body. The crime scene investigators had finished their jobs before he'd arrived, and they were already processing evidence from the scene.

"I understand that Ms. Greene was a fine Marshal, sir."

"Is,
Pete. Lillie
is
a fine Marshal. Don't use the fucking past tense when you talk about her." Kade turned a fierce glare onto the kid. "In fact, don't talk about her at all. Got me?"
Pete nodded so vigorously, his glasses slid to the end of his nose. "Yes, sir. Sorry, sir."

Kade sighed and rubbed his jaw. "Go talk to the owner of the Paradise Club. Get us some useful information, okay, Pete?"

"Yes, sir!"

The boy scurried away, visibly relieved to be out of Kade's range; he smiled grimly. Lillie had never cowered before him. She'd argue with him toe-to-toe, not caring about his mean-ass reputation, his seniority, or his physical strength. Beautiful, tough, smart. God, he missed her. And for all his resources, his twenty-odd years in law enforcement, and his so-called investigative skills, he hadn't been able to find her.
Where the hell are you, baby?

M
ARISSA RAN
, HER leg muscles straining, her heart pounding, her eyes blurred with tears. She knew, to the depths of her soul, that man intended to do her harm. But there was more...he wanted her because of this Lillie woman. Lillie...Lillian. Change one letter and it would spell...WHAM!
Her breath left her chest in a painful whoosh as she smacked into a solid object. Her fuzzy mind calculated the possibilities of hitting a tree, but a tree didn't have arms, and this object did. It was also muscled, strong, and...what the hell had happened to her vision? She couldn't see—Dear God, she was blind!

"Marissa!"

Dane's voice seeped into her consciousness and she relaxed into his embrace. "Dane. I'm so glad it's you."

"What happened to you?" She felt the gentleness of his fingers as he tilted her chin. "And why are your eyes closed?"
Closed? Oh.
Her eyelids fluttered open and she peered at Dane. He looked angry, relieved, and scared. For her?

"Don't you ever—
ever
—run away again? Do you hear me?" He hugged her fiercely.

"I didn't run—"

"Tuesday's about ready to call the police. Or SWAT. Hell, the FBI."

"I hardly think—"

"Damn it, there's nothing we can't work out, okay?"

"I realize that, Dane. But a man dragged me away into the woods. I just—I just escaped him."

Dane's features hardened. "Did he hurt you? Who was he?"

"No, I'm not hurt. I don't know who he was. But he seemed to know me."

"A stalker?"

"Impossible."

"C'mon, princess. It's time the call the police."

"No!" Marissa stopped him from pulling her toward the house. "He—he didn't hurt me. I'm fine. Really."

"This is crazy. We're talking about your safety."

"Then take me somewhere else. Where he can't find me. We need to finish the list, too." She looked at him. "I don't have much time left, Dane. I want to spend it with you. Besides, I couldn't identify whoever it was. I didn't see his face." She wiggled her toes inside her tennis shoes.

She disliked lying to Dane, but she didn't want to speak to the police—for many reasons. She suspected the man had known her sister. And perhaps...perhaps she could find out more about Gillie's death.
Crazy idea, Marissa.
She nibbled her lip. She couldn't go to the police. It would open all kinds of questions about who she was and, worse, who her parents were.

Police Chief Henderson was a regular dinner guest at their home. He knew Fiona and Alan would be less than pleased to know their daughter was running around alone and unprotected in the big, bad world.

"Marissa?"

"Please, Dane. I'm begging you not to call the police."

He looked as if he was about to argue so she reached up and captured his lips. Her heart skipped a beat when he returned the kiss, gathering her into his arms, and angling her head to better fit the curve of his mouth.

Too soon, he pulled away, and looked down at her. His eyes were dark like melted chocolate, and she wanted him so badly, she felt ready to attack him.

"No police. For now." He drew in a shaky breath. "Maybe...maybe I'm cranky...a little...but it's only because...you...I..."

Marissa waited to hear his next words. Waited with insane hope that he would admit he cared about her, that he desired her, that he needed in his heart and in his bed. Was that too much for a girl to want?

Instead, he lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her. She snuggled into his embrace, sought the warmth and comfort of his lips, soaked in the gentle way his hands cupped her jaw. He drew away and she clutched his arms. "Please don't reject me again, Dane. I couldn't bear it."

He gathered her close. "I don't want to hurt you, Marissa. I'd be lying if I said I didn't want you, but I can't—"

"Don't say it." Marissa extracted herself from his arms. Tears pricked her eyes; an intense ache lodged in her throat, threatening to choke her. "Let's go back. I don't want Tuesday to worry."

She turned and walked away.

"
H
OW'D
YOU TALK me into this?" whispered Lillie. Even though she'd long given up on her relationship with Kade, she felt guilty about her attraction to Brent. She still felt attached the man who'd showed her kindness and love and who'd shut down his emotions like a robot and let her go. Kade hadn't been her first lover, but he'd been her only true love.

But Brent...maybe Brent...he nibbled her neck. His fingertips caressed the line of her jaw then dropped to her collarbone. She groaned with pleasure and slid her hands into his hair. His lips continued their slow investigation, venturing onto the curve of her shoulder.

Somehow, they'd ended up back at Brent's...Dane's...apartment. They'd made it into the living room and onto the couch.
Barely.
Why had they even pretended he wanted to interview her for a position as a housekeeper? The only position he wanted...she wanted...was horizontal. The desire buzzing between them should have blown out the streetlights on the way here.
Hungry for his mouth, Lillie bent her head to capture his lips; she bypassed his gentle nibbling and slipped her tongue inside. A wave of pleasure crashed through her when he responded. Heat pooled between her legs. She needed more...she wanted the fulfillment Brent could give her.
He slid one hand up her back then slipped the other one under her T-shirt; skirting along her rib cage, his fingers found her breast. He cupped it, kneaded the firmness, then grasped the hardened nipple and rolled it between his thumb and forefinger. Intense enjoyment radiated to all points in her body.

He shoved up the T-shirt and took her nipple into his mouth. Lillie cried out at the pleasure invoked. "More," she begged. He knelt between her legs and removed her shorts and swimsuit bottom. He stroked her inner thighs until they trembled, though his fingers never quite reached the apex.

"That's it." She toppled him onto the floor. She ripped off her T-shirt and swimsuit top before she made swift work of his jeans and boxers. She grabbed a condom out of her purse and slid it onto him. Impatient, she got on top and took his hard length inside. Her body shuddered at the contact; she was already pulsing around him.

She leaned forward, offering her breasts, moaning when he cupped them and suckled her nipples. Sensations throbbed, swirled, threatened...she closed her eyes and thought of Kade.
Beautiful, rough, gentle Kade.
She exploded into a million pieces; he grabbed her hips and jerked inside her, his shout matching hers.

Lillie collapsed on top of Brent, enjoying the feel of his muscled chest. She had to admit that he was a handsome man, a kind lover. He held her, his hands rubbing her back, soothing her.

"You're in trouble, aren't you, Lillie?" he whispered.

"No." She tensed under his fingers as he swirled patterns down her back. "What makes you think so?"

"Instinct." He rolled her off and raised himself on his elbow then tucked her close, thigh to thigh, hip to hip. Smiling, he pushed a loose strand of hair away from her cheek. "Just got out of a relationship? Are you running from an old boyfriend?"

Her heart stuttered. Brent couldn't know anything about her, about her life. About Michael. But he was damned good guesser. "Don't be ridiculous."

His smile softened, his eyes reflected a mix of regret, sympathy, and hurt. He kissed her forehead then scooted away from her. The odd expression on his face sent warning tingles down her spine. His rejection stung, but most men weren't into snuggling. Most times, neither was she. But somehow the small distance between her and Brent seemed like the Grand Canyon instead of a few inches.

"Guess the fun is over, huh?" She sat up and reached for her discarded panties and shorts. "Suppose I can't count on the job now. Stupid me."

"Lillian."

The reproach in Brent's voice stilled her movements. She looked at him, horrified to feel her throat close up, her eyes fill with tears, her lips tremble.

"I think I'm in love with you," he said. "I feel like a truck ran over me and left me flat. I could marry you right now and never regret it."

Surprise wrapped through her pain. Was he serious? "Brent, I—"

He held up his hand to halt her words. "I know you're in trouble. I want to help. But first...who the hell is Kade?"

L
ILLIE FELT THE
blood drain from her face. She'd called out Kade's name? What was wrong with her? "I'm so sorry, Brent. I was in a relationship with a man named Kade, but we parted ways. For good."

"Why do I doubt that?"

"It's complicated. Look, this was...you were wonderful. I've never met a kinder man. But this was all a mistake. I—" She stopped and debated the wisdom of telling him the truth. She needed to find Marissa before Michael did. Michael planned to go after the person she loved most and destroy her.

Lillie had been the one to escape him. She'd been the one to capture him. She'd been the one to put his ass in jail. Then a few weeks ago, he'd escaped...taunted her and Kade with one murder after another. She knew that he wanted her. The only way to save the people she loved was to find him and offer herself as the sacrifice.

Then kill him.

"Lillie?"

She smiled. "Sorry. I'm zoning out. Incredible sex does that to me."

"It was beyond incredible." He stroked her cheek. "You're leaving, aren't you?"

"I have to." She kissed his palm. "I wish things were different. I wish I was a normal woman starting a relationship with a normal man." The urge to confide in Brent remained, but doing so might put him in the same kind of danger that Marissa faced.

"Let me decide."

"What?"

"You're debating whether or not you should tell me something important."

"It might mean putting your life in danger if I talk to you."

"I'll take the chance."

She started to shake her head, but he grasped her chin. "Lillian, I'll take the chance."

D
ANE SAT
IN the darkened bedroom and stared out the window. Almost midnight and he'd been unable to get a wink of sleep. The moonlight skated across the forest behind the house. A fierce wind blew through the trees; he watched leaves detach and twirl to the ground. He glanced at the gathering clouds in the sky and sighed. Just what he needed—a thunderstorm.

Across the hall, Marissa slept with her animals, except the blind kitten. That little puffball was curled on his lap, purring. He stroked the kitty's ears, smiling when it arched its head against his hand.

Marissa hadn't spoken a word to him the rest of the day. She responded to his attempts at conversation with one-word answers and hurt looks.
Damn it.
He didn't want to hurt her. Didn't she understand that? If he slept with her...took her virginity...she'd never forgive him. He couldn't be the man she deserved, couldn't give her the relationship she needed. He was a selfish bastard, he knew, but he would never open his heart to another woman.

Especially not to a loving, kind-hearted, silly fool like Marissa Vanderson.

Dane hadn't told Tuesday about the man who'd taken Marissa into the woods. He was sure he’d made a mistake not calling the police. His instincts screamed that Marissa was in danger, but he had no proof. And he couldn't help but wonder if she knew more about the situation than she was telling him.
Did she know this guy? Was he the one she was running from?

Frustration propelled him to his feet. He scooped up the kitten and put it on the bed. It curled into a little ball, instantly falling asleep. Dane walked to the window and looked at the ever-darkening sky.
Marissa.
He turned, crossed the room, and grabbed the doorknob.

What was he thinking?

Hadn't he considered all the reasons he shouldn't make love to Marissa? He needed to be logical, rational, and practical. He didn't want a relationship and Marissa did. Or she would. He couldn't accept that she would be satisfied with a few nights of sex. She would get hurt and he didn't want to be the cause of her disappointment. His hand slipped away from the knob.

Two more days.
He could survive Marissa's presence for two more days. Then she'd be gone...he exhaled slowly, not liking the pain creasing his heart. He turned from the door. He needed a cold shower, a tall drink, and a good night's sleep.

M
ARISSA CREPT INTO Dane's
bedroom and closed the door with a soft click. She'd tired of his rejection. He was just too stubborn. He desired her as she did him. She wanted no other man and she didn't care that she might not be the only woman in his life. Jealousy jabbed at her guts. Okay, she did care that he might have multiple girlfriends. She shoved away the thoughts of sharing Dane with other females and climbed into his bed.

"What are you doing?"

Dane's voice startled her and she yelped. She heard rattling noises then the small lamp on the bedside table clicked on. He stared at her. He didn't look sleepy or surprised. More than likely, he'd watched her progress across the room. The rat.

She refused to back down. "I've decided to sleep with you."

"Oh really?"

Marissa ripped off the bedcovers, straddled him, and placed her lips against his.

"I shouldn't be doing this," he mumbled. "Just one taste. Just one—"

His kiss was hungry, demanding. He shoved up her nightgown and cupped her breasts, breaking off the kiss to take a nipple into his mouth. Marissa cried out and clutched his shoulders. His tongue did marvelous things, wicked things she'd dreamed about for such a long time.
She grasped his hips and strained against Dane, rubbing her tingling center against the hardness protected by his boxers. She wished he'd rip off her panties and her nightgown so she could press her flesh against his.

His hand crept inside her panties, found the throbbing nub, and stroked it. Sparks of sensation skittered through her.

Oh. My. God.

The reality of lovemaking was a hundred times better than she'd ever imagined.

"Damn it." He withdrew from her breasts and let the nightgown drop, but his thumb remained...stroking, stroking, stroking.

Thanks to Dane's mouth and hands, her nipples felt deliciously sensitive—even the rough cotton of the gown caused tiny ripples of sensation.

"Marissa..."

"Hmmm."

She was wet, ready, and willing...but Dane looked as if he might bolt from the bed. She removed her nightgown and leaned forward to offer him her breasts. He kept his wicked thumb on her clit, but his free hand cupped a breast. He leaned forward and sucked the nipple. Arrows of heat shot through her; she moaned.

"It feels good. I've never felt this way. It's all so amazing, but I feel like—well, I've read extensively on the subject of sex and I think what I'm looking for here is an orgasm."

He looked dumbfounded. Maybe he wasn't used to such plain talking when it came to sex, but she didn't want to waste time with a euphemistic approach to a normal and healthy function of the body. She'd been led to believe that men had a more practical mindset about having physical relations and she was surprised and frustrated at Dane's refusal to pursue what they both obviously wanted.

"An orgasm?" he asked.

"It comes from the Greek word,
organ,
which means 'to swell.' According to the dictionary, an orgasm is 'the climax to a sexual act.'"

"I know what an orgasm is."

"I suppose that's because you've had one," she complained. "I know there are plenty of ways to do it myself, but I've never indulged. I guess it's those stupid romance novels. I've always wanted to reach completion with a partner."

"That's admirable." Dane's voice sounded strangled, so Marissa glanced at him.

His eyes had that feral look again and she wondered what she'd said or done this time to invoke his wrath. Every time she thought she was having a normal discussion, he acted like she was speaking a foreign language.

He pursed his lips. "Since it's my fault you're all hot and bothered, I suppose I should do something about it."
Her breath left in a whoosh and her heart kicked up a few beats. "Y-you'll finish making love to me?"

He flipped her onto her back and brushed a loose strand of hair from her cheek. "What exactly did you read in those romance novels?"

"Romance novels have all those lovely forever relationships and the sex is so good." She paused. "I read other kinds of books, too."

"Kama Sutra,
right? I remember."

She nodded, inexplicably feeling shy. Reading about sex and performing the act were entirely different. Would Dane get impatient with her inexperience?

"Since you know all about the subject, you probably won't be too surprised when I do this."

He knelt between her legs and removed her panties.

He spread open her legs and placed his warm mouth on her very center. His tongue stroked her until she thought she'd go mad. He lifted his head. The sensations threatening to burst subsided.

"Dane!"

"Ssshhh."
He sat up, untangled her hands from the sheets, and pushed them onto her aching breasts. "Touch yourself, Marissa."

She cupped her breasts, daring to pinch her own nipples. Waves of sensation enveloped her and she cried out. Dane slipped down between her legs, cupped her bottom, and drew her to his mouth. He licked, nipped, sucked, tortured...and paused.

Looking down, she met his dark gaze. "You turn me on," he said.
"This
turns me on." He kissed her clitoris and her thighs shook as sensations struck her like mini-lightning strikes.

She cupped her breasts and wound her fingers around her areolas, grasping the turgid peaks. "And this?" she asked in a tremulous whisper.

"Especially that."

His sigh coasted down her stomach. She wiggled closer until she felt the heat of his mouth hovering above her woman's core. "More," she demanded, arching so his lips skimmed her swollen nub.

"More," he agreed then lowered his head and suckled. Hard.
She came, an explosion of pleasure so immense, she screamed, and trembled against the lips that attempted to soothe her pulsing center. Then he suckled again, hard and fast, licking and nipping until another orgasm claimed her.
Sweat trickled down her neck, her body felt as if it had imploded then pieced back together by an inept surgeon, and ragged joy filled her. Making love with Dane was all she had imagined...and more.

What would actual intercourse feel like? The idea of him slipping inside her wet heat, stroking, thrusting, pumping...she swallowed her gasp of unexpected desire. Two orgasms and she was ready for a third. She was ready to give Dane the same pleasure he'd given her.

But Dane didn't enter her. Instead, he crawled beside her and cuddled with her as she recovered. She had never imagined the absolute bliss of an orgasm. No wonder women talked about them all the time.

"I feel wonderful," she murmured. She stretched then looked at the man who had introduced her to a marvelous version of making love. "What about you? Shouldn't we continue? Surely you need—"

"I can handle it."

"Literally?"

Dane grinned. "Very funny."

Marissa looked at his boxers. His hard-on tented the material. Boldly, she stroked him through the boxers and smiled when his shaft jumped at her touch. "It's your turn, Dane. Then mine again."

His brow lifted. "Again?"

"Is there an orgasm limit?"

"Hell, no."

She reached inside his boxer shorts and grasped the smooth, hard flesh of his penis. She wondered how it would feel in her mouth, if Dane would get as much pleasure from oral sex as she had. She grabbed the top of his boxers and tugged them down.

"Dane!" Tuesday's voice sounded panicked from the other side of the door. He pounded a fist against the thin wood. "You better get out here, man."