Tickle His Fancy: Trident Security Book 6 (Trident Security Series) (11 page)

His hands slid down her body and pulled her hips until she
was lying completely on top of him. She straddled his waist and felt his
erection against her core. She wanted him in the worst way—no, she
needed
him. Their tongues went from inside her mouth to his and back again. He
clutched a handful of hair and tugged her away from him, then gasped as he
stared at her trying to get her own breath. “Take your bra off, baby. Let me
see what I’ve been dreaming of for weeks now.”

Fancy sat up, which increase the connection and friction
between her legs and his cock. As his hands settled on her hips, he watched as
she reached back, undid the clasp, and pulled the bra down her arms. His eyes
widened in appreciation at the sight of her bare breasts. “Jesus, you’re more
beautiful than I pictured. And trust me, I had plenty of pictures of you naked
in my head since I met you. Hell, I was picturing you in my own personal porn
flick the moment I first saw you. No lie. But none of that did you justice,
sweetness.” His gaze met hers. “Will you play with your nipples for me? Show me
how you like to be touched.”

Her cheeks blushed as she raised her hands to her breasts.
She was suddenly shy again as her fingers circle the stiff peaks and then
tugged on them. “Like this?”

“Whichever way you like to do it is fine with me.”

As she played with them, his hands slid up and down her
sides, getting closer to her breasts and mound with each pass. Sitting up, he
cupped her left breast and nudged her hand away with his nose. His mouth closed
around her nipple, and the heat blossomed and spread to her core. She closed
her eyes, and her head fell back on her shoulders as he worshiped her flesh
with his mouth and tongue. She couldn’t control her hips as they began to rock
against his cock on their own accord. “More. Please.”

Flipping her onto her back, Brody settled between her legs
and switched to her other breast, giving it the same attention. He shifted
further down on the bed, trailing wet kisses over her abdomen. His tongue
circled her belly button, and she giggled because it tickled. He paused at the
top of her capris and looked up at her. “Yes?”

She knew he was asking for permission and her heart melted a
little more—if he kept this up, he would be taking up a permanent residency
there. Nodding, her hands went to the snap and zipper. “Yes.”

Tugging on the pants, Brody kissed each inch of exposed flesh
as it appeared. Her hips. Her thighs. Her knees. All the way down to her toes.
Reaching back up, he hooked his fingers under the waistband of her panties and
pulled them down as well. His eyes feasted on her naked body, and she fought
the urge to use her hands to cover herself—she had always been a little
self-conscious of the extra thirty pounds she’d gained over the years. But the
heat in Brody’s gaze warmed her to the point her blood was boiling and
pulsating through her veins—it was evident her generous curves didn’t bother
him at all. In fact, she could swear they turned him on even more as his gaze
roamed every one.

Standing, he removed his own pants. Her eyes widened at the
sight of him. Oh God, he was huge! Well, not exactly huge. . .but,
yeah, huge pretty much said it.

Rounding to the foot of the bed, Brody crawled up and settled
between her legs. “Hands behind your head, sweetness. Time for my treat.”

When she did as she was told, he spread her thighs wider. His
thumbs brushed the fine hair between her legs and she wished she hadn’t stopped
waxing. Patrick had loved her bare, but after the accident, there had been no
reason for her to keep it up—at least she still kept herself trimmed down
there.

Brody leaned forward and licked her pussy in one long and
hard stroke. The contact and sensations that shot through her sent her hips
flying off the bed. “Oh God!”

“Easy, honey. I’m just getting started. Put your hands behind
your head again.”

She hadn’t realized they were no longer there. Instead, they
were in his hair. “Sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry about. I just want all your
concentration on what my tongue is doing and nothing else.”

Yeah, no worries there
. She doubted she’d be able to
think about anything else other than him and what he was doing to her.

His head ducked back down, and this time, when he licked her,
even though her hips bucked again, she kept her hands behind her head.
Alternating between her slit and the tiny bud of nerves above it, Brody licked,
nibbled, and sucked, sending her higher and higher. It had been so long since
she’d had an orgasm that the powerful wave caught her off guard. She cried out
as intense pleasure coursed through her body. Behind her closed eyelids, bright
lights flashed in a myriad of colors. “Oh my God!
Ahhhh.
”

Her body shook with the impact as he plunged two fingers into
her pussy, drawing out her response before letting her float back to Earth.
With a few more swipes of his tongue, Brody ended his assault and lifted his
head. He was grinning from ear to ear at her in satisfaction, the cocky
bastard. Not that she was complaining—no way would she complain after that orgasm.
He wiped his wet mouth and chin with his hand. “When was the last time you had
an orgasm, babe?”

“Since. . .” she panted, “. . .since the
last time. . .I had a man in my bed.”

His eyes widened in surprise. “Seriously? You never
masturbate?”

Blushing, she shook her head. It had been so long since she
had been intimate with a man, and his bluntness was a little shocking. “No…I
mean I used to, but after Patrick. . .I thought that part of my life
was over, and it didn’t feel right without him with me.”

The understanding in his eyes was almost her undoing.
Reaching for him, she urged him to cover her body with his. She didn’t want to
think or talk anymore, just feel again. Needing to leave the past where it
belonged, she pulled his face to hers and initiated another toe-curling kiss.
Tasting herself on his lips and tongue sent her desire soaring again. This man
did things to her she’d never expected to feel again, and for the first time in
years, she felt like she was home. “More. . .please. . .”

Kissing along her jaw, Brody opened the top drawer of the
nightstand next to them and searched for a moment before retrieving a small
square package. He quickly donned the condom. “I’ll go slowly, sweetness. Tell
me if anything hurts or is uncomfortable.”

His hand slid down her torso, to her core, and his fingers
tested her wetness. He needn’t have worried because she was more than ready for
him. Supporting himself on his forearms, he lowered his hips to hers. With
slow, short thrusts, he eased into her heat, groaning as she enveloped him.
God, it was heaven. Her body yielded to him, but suddenly it wasn’t enough. Her
nails dug into his back. “More!”

With one final thrust, he was inside her as far as nature
would allow. “Are you okay?”

“Yes! But I’d be more than okay if you sped things up a
little.”

He chuckled then nipped her bottom lip. “Demanding little thing,
aren’t you? I don’t like taking orders in bed, sweetness. I prefer to issue
them, but this time, I’ll let you get away with it because I’m hanging on by a
thread here.”

Easing out, he thrust forward again, his eyes remained
focused on her face. Her moans urged him on. Faster. Harder. Her body yielded
to him over and over as her breathing and heart rate increased. Sensations
she’d forgotten existed assailed her. His pelvis hit her clit on each inward
stroke. As he slammed into her, she began climbing again, and even though she
was prepared for it, her orgasm was even stronger this time, which she hadn’t
thought possible. “Brody!
Ohhhhhh
. . .yyyyessss!”

“Fuck, baby! Shit!” With one final plunge, he stiffened as he
came and his forehead dropped to the pillow next to her head as his body
shuddered. His release triggered another one in her and her head spun as her
entire body quivered. His weight fell onto her, but she didn’t care as they
both gasped for air. A contentment she never thought she would experience again
came over her. He nuzzled her neck. “That was incredible, sweetness. And I
can’t wait to do it again.”

Neither could she.

Rolling over, Brody reached for Fancy, but all he found was
an empty bed. His eyes blinked open, and he checked the digital clock on the
nightstand. Just after 3:00 a.m.
What the fuck?
Where the hell was
she?

Noise from the bathroom caught his attention. The shower was
running. Frowning, he threw the covers off his nude body and climbed out of
bed. Pushing the door open, he was surprised at the darkness. When he switched
the light on, his heart clenched at what he saw. Naked, Fancy was sitting on
the floor of his walk-in shower. Her knees were drawn up to her chest, and her
arms were wrapped around them. Her shoulders were shaking.
Fuck
. She was
crying as the water pelted her from above. Her teeth were chattering as she
stared at the blank tiled wall.

Stepping over, he realized the water was cold—almost
freezing. How long had she been in there? He flipped two switches on the wall
next to the shower. When he’d had Parker renovate the master bath, he’d gone
all out. There was a reserve heater, so there would never be a lack of hot
water, and when you stepped out of the shower, the overhead red heat lamps kept
you warm as you dried off. Sticking his hand under the cold water, he waited
until it ran hot again, then sat on the tile floor next to Fancy. Without
saying a word, he pulled her shivering body onto his lap, then stroked her hair
and skin as the water raining down on them began to warm her again.

She tucked her face into his neck. “I-I’m s-sorry.”

“
Shhh
. It’s okay, sweetness. I’ve got you. Let it
out.”

Her sobs almost broke his heart. He had no idea what had
brought it all on, but there was no way he was running away when she needed him
the most. Kissing her forehead, he murmured words of comfort and reassurance,
as her shivering subsided. Being warmed up again also seemed to ease her
crying. He smiled when he felt her shift and kiss his neck. “If you’re warm
enough, let’s get you dried off and back under the covers. We can talk there,
okay?”

She nodded, and he reached up and shut the water off. Helping
her stand, he followed, then brought her out to stand under the heat lamp.
Grabbing one of the fluffy towels from the rack, he rubbed it over her skin
from head to toe, drying her off. He towel-dried her hair as best he could,
then wrapped her in the terry cloth robe he kept behind the door. Once she was
taken care of, he ran another towel over his own body. Leading her back to bed,
he let her climb in, then pulled the covers back over her. “I’ll be right
back.”

Comfortable in his own skin, he didn’t bother to put anything
on his naked body as he shuffled out to the kitchen. He retrieved two glasses
of water and brought them back to the room after shutting the music off in the
living room. It had been faint enough not to disturb them as they’d slept and
he’d forgotten it was on.

Handing her one of the glasses, he brought the other to his
lips and drank half of it while making sure she rehydrated herself. He climbed
back under the covers and noticed she’d shed his robe, laying it at the foot of
the bed. Turning on his side, he placed his hand on hers over her abdomen.
“Talk to me.”

“I’m sorry—“

“Don’t apologize, Fancy. Talk to me.”

She took a shuddering breath and stared at the ceiling as she
spoke. “I don’t know what brought it on, but I woke up crying and didn’t want
to wake you. I-I didn’t tell you everything earlier when I told you about the
accident.” He rubbed his thumb over her wrist, silently encouraging her to
continue. “I-I was pregnant. . .we found out a few weeks before the accident
and w-were over the moon about it. We hadn’t actually been trying, but we
weren’t taking any precautions either.”

His heart and gut twisted. He was certain he knew where this
was going, but it was obvious she needed to get this all off her chest. “What
happened?”

“When I woke up from the coma, they told me I’d miscarried. I
learned my husband and my baby were both dead six weeks after it happened.
Patrick’s family had taken care of the funeral and everything—which I
understood—but it was like going to sleep and waking up to find everything you
knew and loved was gone. I-I flipped out—which is an understatement. I became
manic-depressive—crying one minute and screaming with rage in the next. It got
to the point, when I was physically well enough to be released from the main
hospital, I was sent to the psychiatric ward for two months. Corey and my aunt
became my rocks.” She swallowed hard, and he patiently waited for her to
continue. “If it wasn’t for them visiting me every day, I don’t think I would
have ever recovered—mentally or emotionally. Aunt Denise wanted to take me back
to Ohio, but I couldn’t do it. This was where Patrick and I were going to
follow our dreams, and I knew he’d want me to stay here. It took me a year or
so to finally shake off my grief enough to rejoin the living. Patrick had taken
out a large insurance policy at work that I hadn’t known about. That’s what I
used to start the business. It’s what he would’ve wanted me to do.”

Jesus
, this poor woman had been through hell and back
several times. That she’d pulled through and turned her life around again,
proved how courageous and strong she was. He brought her hand to his mouth and
kissed the back of it. “Where were your brother and parents through all this?”

She shrugged and swiped at the tears which had started
falling down her cheeks again. “My father couldn’t be bothered with coming to
see me. My brother had been here for the first week but had to go back home to
work. He flew back in for a few days after I woke up. My mother. . .well,
let’s just say she didn’t know how to deal with a grieving widow and leave it
at that.”

Taking a few strands of her drying hair, he rubbed them
between his fingers and thumb. “I don’t know how you did it, sweetness, but I’m
in awe that you recovered from, not only the accident but the loss of Patrick
and the baby. And I’m sorry you had to go through it all. I’ve never wanted to
turn back time as much as I do right now. If I had to give up ever knowing you,
for you to have not gone through that, I would, and that’s saying a lot because
you’ve become very special to me. I can’t even remember what my life was like
before you came into it, and I don’t want to.”

That was as close to a declaration of love he was willing to
make right now. She was far from ready to hear that from him. Finally, turning
to face him, she stroked his cheek. “It doesn’t bother you that I was
institutionalized?”

He held her palm to his cheek, as he stared into her eyes,
wanting her to know his words were the truth. “Not at all. Everyone deals with
grief in their own way. If that’s what it took for you to recover, then, no, it
doesn’t bother me.”

Smiling for the first time since he’d found her, she leaned
over and placed a soft, quick kiss on his lips. “Thank you.”

A yawn escaped her, and he glanced at the clock. She’d told
him earlier, she needed to leave by five fifteen at the very latest to run home
for a change of clothes and be at the shop by six. “We have about an hour
before we have to get up. Roll over, close your eyes and try to sleep for a
little bit.” He nudged her to her side facing away from him, then pulled her
tightly against his chest. She was asleep in minutes while he watched over her.

* * *

After kissing Fancy goodbye and telling her he’d call her
later, Brody walked out of the bakery with his coffee in one hand and a box of
pastries in the other. He’d let her sleep for a few more minutes while he’d
gotten dressed for the day, then followed her to her condo and waited while she
ran inside and did the same. She seemed different after their
middle-of-the-night talk—lighter, happier. And he hoped that meant they had a
future together. He wondered what she would say if he asked her to go back to
Texas with him in six weeks—his family had a huge hoedown every year. Brothers,
sisters, aunts, uncles, cousins—everyone came. The only ones he’d ever missed
had been when his SEAL tours or missions had prevented it. Ian and Dev had it
penciled in every year not to send him on any assignments unless it was an
emergency during the fourth weekend in October.

Walking across the parking lot, he scanned the area,
searching for anyone who shouldn’t be there, and for Russell, but no one was
around. As he reached his truck, his cell phone chimed with an urgent text from
the Trident line—at just after six in the morning, this couldn’t be fucking good.
Opening the driver’s door, he placed the box on the passenger seat and the
coffee in the center console, then checked the message.

Body found. Possibly Heather. 575 Winfield Street. Meet me
there. Ian.

“Fuck!”

With rush hour not having started yet, it took him about ten
minutes to get to the crime scene. It was hard to miss with the number of
strobe lights flashing from multiple police cars, an ambulance, a coroner’s
vehicle, and CSI units. The closest he was able to park was half a block away,
and after locking his truck, he hoofed it the rest of the way. Bystanders and
the media were being kept a fair distance from the scene, and Brody flashed his
Trident ID to a uniformed officer, earning him passage to the inner circle.
They had worked with Tampa PD on numerous cases in the past and had a good
reputation among the officers and detectives.

Ian, Devon, and Marco were already present, and he was confident
Boomer was on his way. The three men were standing along the “Police - Do Not
Cross” tape, which ran from the front of a laundromat clear across the parking
lot to a patrol car, while uniformed and plainclothes officers milled about on
the far side. They couldn’t see anything from here—the body had to be behind
the building. Brody stopped next to Ian. “What’s going on?”

Boss-man ran a frustrated hand down his face. “Just got here
ourselves. Webb called and said to get over here. He’s still back behind the
building, so we’re waiting to find out what’s up. What I do know is it’s a
female homicide victim who fits Heather’s description, and a few cops and two
EMTs have come back around and tossed their cookies.”

Shit, that’s not good
. When people, experienced in
seeing the worst that could be possibly be done to the human race, were puking,
the scene had to be horrendous and beyond anything they had seen before.

Long moments passed before an ashen-faced Webb rounded the
rear corner of the building, just as Boomer arrived. The detective spotted them
and strode over, stopping for a brief exchange with another detective on the
way. When he reached them, he shook Ian’s hand and nodded at the rest of them.
“Thanks for coming. I’m going to need your help on this…fuck, I can barely
comprehend what
this
is. . .what the fuck I saw. . .”

They waited in silence while the rattled man gathered his
composure. “It’s definitely a dump scene only. Wherever he did. . .
that. . .
had
to be somewhere they weren’t heard because I guarantee she screamed the whole
time. I can’t imagine what she went through.”

Before he could explain further, two men from the coroner’s
office came from behind the building, rolling a gurney between them with a body
bag on it. Both men were as pale as everyone else who’d come from back there.
Webb flagged them to stop, then turned to Ian and the others. “You don’t all
have to look, but I would appreciate an ID and any insight you might have. This
goes beyond anything I’ve witnessed or even heard of before.”

They all stepped forward, not imagining it could be worse
than the atrocities they’d seen committed by radical al Qaeda and ISIS
terrorists. They were wrong.

Webb indicated to one of the coroner’s assistants to show
them the body. Before he did, the man glanced around, then turned the gurney
slightly so no unauthorized eyes would be able to catch a glimpse. Brody took a
deep breath as the bag was unzipped and a white protective sheet was lifted.

“Fuck!”

The expletive was spat by more than one of them. The coffee
in Brody’s stomach churned and threatened to come back up. He swallowed hard,
forcing it back down as he stared at the horrifying remains of Heather Davis.
While her face was mostly recognizable, the rest of her was not—at least what
they were able to see. The sheet still covered her lower body. There wasn’t an
inch of skin, from her neck down, left untouched by what had to have been a
bullwhip or similar implement. The oozing, pink and red, shredded flesh of her
torso and arms conjured up images of beef being freshly ground by a butcher—and
that’s what the sick bastard who had done this to her was—a psychotic butcher.

Having seen more than enough, Ian nodded at the ME’s assistants,
and they quickly covered the body and zipped up the bag again. As the gurney
was rolled toward the transport vehicle, Ian coughed, then turned to Webb.
Everyone else was too stunned to talk. “The entire body like that?”

The detective nodded grimly. “From her neck to her toes,
front and back. As you saw, only a few strikes to the face, but he left that
mostly intact for whatever sick reason. Maybe so we could identify her. . .I’ve
got no fucking clue. Any ideas?”

“Looks like the bastard used a bullwhip, but you’ll need the
coroner to confirm that. I’ve been in the lifestyle for years and never heard
of anything like this. Whip Masters are usually highly trained and never break
the skin. There’s no way to tell if the killer is inexperienced or knew exactly
what he was doing. Is he. . .or she, I guess. . .in the
lifestyle? Again, hard to tell. And if your next question is do I think her Dom
did this, no, I don’t. . .ninety-five percent certain. I’m sorry, I
know this doesn’t help, but that’s all I’ve got right now.”

Webb blew out a harsh breath. “No, it doesn’t help, but hopefully,
at some point it will. We’re not sure what time she was dumped yet, but the
estimated time of death is ten hours ago. The ME will narrow that down further.
There are no cameras on this building, but we’ll check with the surrounding
businesses to see if anyone has one and caught something.”