Heaven In Her Eyes
Heaven In Her Eyes “Oh God,” she hissed, staring at the old-fashioned stand mirror in front of her...
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Heaven In Her Eyes
Heaven In Her Eyes “Oh God,” she hissed, staring at the old-fashioned stand mirror in front of her. Her hands went up to cover her breasts, as if hiding them from herself. “Shh,” he whispered, bending his head so he spoke softly in her ear. “You don’t know how beautiful you are, I want you to see you like I do.” He put his hands over hers, slowly dragging her hands down her body to hang limply at her sides. “You have the most sensual hair, Shanna,” he said, still speaking softly, letting his cheek rub against the softness of her hair. “Do you know how much men love long hair? Especially like yours, it’s so thick and almost seems to have a life of its own. It makes me wonder how it would feel wrapped around me, draped over me, against my naked skin.” He lifted handfuls and let it run out of his hands like water. “Your skin is perfect,” he whispered, his fingers coming up to trace across her cheeks, feeling the heat of her blush. “Creamy silk,” he moaned. The back of his hand tracing down her throat and across her collar-bone, then barely brushing the hardened tip of her nipple.
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Wendy Stone Heaven In Her Eyes Title © 2008 by Wendy Stone
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher. This book is a work of fiction. Characters, names, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
An Eternal Press Production Eternal Press 206 - 6059 Pandora St. Burnaby, British Columbia, Canada, V5B 1M4 To order additional copies of this book, contact: www.eternalpress.ca
Cover Art © 2008 by Dawné Dominique Edited by Editor Pam Slade Copyedited by Proofreader Valerie Coffey Layout and Book Production by Ally Robertson
eBook ISBN: 978-1-897559-80-2 Print ISBN: 978-1-897559-92-5 First Edition * December 2008
Production by Eternal Press Printed in The United States of America.
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Heaven In Her Eyes
Heaven In Her Eyes Book Two of the Romsus Trilogy
Wendy Stone
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Wendy Stone
Also by Wendy Stone
Captive Angel Book One of the Romsus Trilogy ****
And Coming 2009…
Key To Her Heart Book Three of the Romsus Trilogy AND
A Gift of Love 4
Heaven In Her Eyes
Dedication: I’d like to dedicate this novel to a friend. Molly Wens was always right there behind me, pushing me to continue when I wanted to give up. So Molly, girl, this one’s for you.
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Wendy Stone
Chapter One Cats flew hissing off the bed. His body jerked into a sitting position, as his eyes searched the room. He reached for the gun that sat in the drawer next to his bed. Before he could retrieve it, he forced himself to calm, realizing it was only another dream. The same damn crazy dream that had been plaguing him for months. The dreams had begun when he’d flown out to Wyoming, to help Hunter and his new wife while they were on the run from their own personal demon. That personal demon was now spending the rest of his life in a cement box, far away from the riches and power he had so adored. Brandon Austin rubbed his hand across his chest, feeling the still healing scar of the bullet that had almost ended his life. Shot in the line of duty was how he’d always planned on going to meet his maker, but this—well, this was something else. She’d been little more than a kid, a psychotic, fucked up kid whose father had been beating her since she was little and then trained her to walk the streets. He’d gotten her hooked on drugs, turning what could have been a promising young woman into a street-smart tough. With a gun. Brandon could still feel it puncturing his flesh, the burst of icy pain, the shocking numbness, the heated agony that followed. He’d lain in the street, yanking his gun from its holster, returning the fire. The girl had lived, but now she would spend the rest of her life in a federal prison, for shooting an FBI agent. He sighed, remembering Angel’s face when they’d brought him into the emergency room. She’d stood there, her pregnant stomach pushing against his arm. The baby had kicked him. He remembered that too, as 6
Heaven In Her Eyes she’d brushed his hair back from his face, staring him in the eyes and talking to him as the others worked on him. She’d kept him alive. Brandon knew it. If he hadn’t had those warm green eyes looking into his and her soft hand in his own, he might have given up. He owed her, though she scoffed at the thought. He laid back down on his bed, his body tense―too many memories haunting him. The ghosts of the past didn’t only come on Christmas Eve. They attacked him whenever he let down his guard, letting him know he’d seen too much, had done too much. Now he didn’t know if he’d be able to go back to the bureau. He didn’t know if he was still cut out to do the only job he’d ever wanted. He didn’t know if he could trust his instincts. A small form jumped on the bed, padded up over the bunched up covers and climbed onto his stomach, purring the entire time. Brandon reached out his hand, fondling the kitten’s head even as she swatted at his hand with her paw. He picked her up, settling her in his arms, stroking her fur while she purred contentedly. The sigh that came from his lips spoke more of tiredness than anything else. He dropped the kitten on the bed beside him, curled up under the thick covers and let his body relax, praying the dreams wouldn’t come again. **** A whiff of spice, a hint of musk and a strange sort of incense wafted to his nose, leading him forward, ever onward through a maze of tents. He pushed through the fabric opening of the first tent, noting its striped canvas and the luxury of the interior. Satins and silks, thick furs of all kinds were strewn everywhere. Huge pillows meant to cushion the body were placed on the thickly carpeted floors. A feast was set out before him, luscious meats, creamy cheeses, crusty breads, ripe fruits all meant to be eaten with the fingers, sat on plates, awaiting his appetite. This was his place, he knew it. He could sense it. It felt good to be here, like coming home after a long work week and realizing you could sleep in the next day kind of good. Seemingly, with volition of their own, his feet carried him to one of the pillows and he dropped down upon it, clapping his hands like some royal pasha calling for his harem. The music started. It was a driving rhythm, meant to entice, meant to enflame. It rose in tempo and sound and then changed, becoming more 7
Wendy Stone intimate as around him, candles were lit, scenting the air and changing the atmosphere. She came into the room like a tiny tornado, twirling and spinning, the soft gold of her skirts flaring around her, showing off firm legs and a hint of dark pelt between her thighs. Her face was veiled, her eyes heavily outlined with kohl, emphasizing their catlike shape and the amazing amber color. Her hair swirled around her, long and thick, curls caressing the naked skin of her back and the softness of her arms as she moved. She wore gold slave bands, circling the taut muscles of her upper arms, and a slim girdle of gold adorned with bells, surrounded her slender waist. With her dark hair and the promise that shone in those amber eyes, she was pure sensual magic. She danced close to him, her fingers trailing across his chest, using her hair as a silken whip of pleasure, surrounding him in the sinfulness of her scent. She teased him, leading him on only to push him away, her dancing feet a swift blur of movement. “Do you want me?” she whispered, her hands stroking down his chest, sliding across his stomach. “Do you want to make love to me?” “Yes.” It was the only thing he could say. She was erotic and sensual, flaming his passions with her every touch, her every move. She backed away and he rose to follow, watching the enticing motions of her hands as they urged him onward. Out of the room and through another flap she went, slowing only to scald him with a heated, needful look before she disappeared. He pushed through the flap, only to find the next room was deserted. The change in the atmosphere of the place from sinfully erotic to creepy and dark, confused him for a moment. “Shanna?” he called, knowing it was her he was seeking. Cobwebs hung from old wooden rafters, streaming down and tangling in his hair. They brushed across his face, sticky and annoying. He did his best to ignore them and their inhabitants. Instead he searched every room he came to, growing angrier with every second she hid from him. “This isn’t funny anymore, Shanna. Come on out.” He growled the words but there was no sign of the tantalizing woman. “Fine,” he called loudly. “Stay here and rot then, Shanna. I don’t need you.” But he did and he knew it. He compared every woman to her, hadn’t been able to go on a second date with anyone since she’d dropped into his life. He was infatuated. 8
Heaven In Her Eyes He heard her giggle, and turned quickly to see a glimpse of her gold shift. “Shanna?” he shouted. “Come on, baby.” Her sudden scream made his blood run cold. He ran in that direction, his feet felt like lead, the floor like mud, sucking him down. He could see her outline, shadowed in the light as she fought. Then he saw the knife. It was only a shadow. Long and slightly curved, it rose above her head, before falling toward her. He watched it strike. It sunk deep into the shadow girl as she screamed and he roared with the pain of not being able to protect her once more. Her screams echoed in his head as he woke. This time he rolled to his back his body covered in sweat, to stare at the ceiling. **** He waited until the next day to make the call. His apartment was beginning to give him claustrophobia, so going to the park a couple blocks away was all he could think of as he dialed Hunt’s number. “So, how is everything, Hunt? Angel is good?” “You’d know if you’d ever come over here,” his friend’s voice came through the ear-piece of the cell phone. “We’ve missed having you around, Bran.” “Yeah, I’m sorry about that. It’s just with the injury and all, I’ve been having trouble dealing with the inactivity.” He glanced around and seeing an empty park bench, headed towards it. “So Angel is good?” he asked again. “Yeah, ‘rounding nicely,’ as her doctor puts it. She’s grumbling that she can’t see her feet, but I think she’s beautiful.” Brandon could hear the love for his wife in his friend’s voice and it made him happy, for them at least. “What about your sister?” he asked, trying to keep it as nonchalant as possible. He dropped down onto the bench, unconsciously rubbing a hand across his chest as if the wound still pained him. “She having any problems with the divorce?” “That fuck wad, Clinton,” Hunter growled, his voice sounded threatening even over the reception of the cell phone. “He’s trying to force her into going to marriage counseling. But to do that, she’d have to fly back to Washington D.C. That means giving up her job and her apartment here. Hey,” he said after a second’s silence. “Why’d you want to know about Shanna? You hate her.” 9
Wendy Stone “I don’t hate her, Hunt, she just…rubs me the wrong way.” Brandon could have laughed, for in those dreams, before they turned dark and sinister, she had sure rubbed him in all the right ways. He glanced around at the people in the park, seeing all the young mothers with their children, the older guys that came down here to walk, and one not so old standing by a waist high fence, leaning over and watching the kids play on the big toys. “He isn’t threatening her, is he?” he asked, keeping one part of his mind on the conversation, the other part on the strange actions of the guy at the fence. He seemed nervous, and was also sweating more than was necessary for the cool spring weather. He kept eyeing the kids, his hands in his pants pockets. “No threats that she’s told me, except he’s promising to make the divorce last a very long time unless she comes back and does the counseling. Listen, Angel wants me to ask you for dinner. Tomorrow night, here at the apartment. She’s cooking but I’ll make sure we have back up, just in case.” Brandon couldn’t help but laugh at that, hearing Hunter yelp as Angel surely must have smacked him. “I’ll be there,” he said. “Look, I gotta run, I’ll catch you tomorrow night.” He didn’t wait for Hunter to answer, flipping the phone closed as he shoved it into his pocket. With a grimace of pain, he stood and made his way slowly over to the man at the fence. “Which one are you looking at?” he said conversationally as he walked up next to him. “The little bl…,” the man started to say then slammed him mouth shut. “I…uh don’t know what you’re talking about, dude.” “Yes,” Brandon said, slipping his identification out of his back pocket and showing it to the guy. “You do. Now I’m betting that if I were to run you, you’d have a jacket as a known pedophile. Probably, part of your parole obligation states you stay far, far away from any children. Which means I could take you in—right now, no questions asked and your ass would be back in prison, before you could blink.” “Hey man, no way, I didn’t do nuthin. I was only out walking.” The man held his hands up. “Then keep walking. I see you around here again and I’m taking you in, got me?” Brandon felt a spurt of amusement as the guy didn’t even wait for him to finish before he took off. It felt good, even doing that little bit to help clean up the world. 10
Heaven In Her Eyes His eyes cast down, he started walking, not paying attention to anything around him, he kept walking. He could still see the girl and the intense hatred in her eyes, as she’d pointed the gun at him. He’d never even seen her before. Then bam and he was down, feeling as if an elephant had punched him in the chest. “Brandon?” He lifted his head, and found himself staring into the golden eyes he saw every night in his dreams. “Shanna?” he breathed, surprised. “What are you doing here?” “I work at the bank down the street. I come down here on my lunch a lot. It’s fun watching the kids.” She blushed as if she knew she was babbling. “How are you?” “Good,” he said, recovering from his surprise. “For a man who recently got shot, I feel pretty good.” “Aaron told me, he said if the bullet had been a half an inch to the left, you’d have died. I…I wanted to come and see you in the hospital, but I didn’t want to fight with you,” she said softly, staring down at her hands where she was holding a small brown paper bag. “That’s okay, Shanna.” He took her arm, steering her to another empty bench and sitting down on it. “Do you mind?” he asked, rubbing his hand over his chest again. It didn’t hurt and he would have been fine walking but he wanted to spend some more time with her. “No, of course not. You’re welcome to half of my sandwich if you’d like.” She opened the bag and pulled out a baggie. “Turkey salad? I made it myself.” “You do cook better than your sister-in-law, don’t you?” he joked, taking the offered food and took a bite. “Hey, this is good” Shanna laughed. “Thank you. I’ve always liked to cook, I used to get to do a lot of it when mom and dad went on their weekend trips and left me with Aaron and Dillon.” She took a dainty bite of her half of sandwich and Brandon found himself watching her mouth. It was lush and full, and when her tongue licked out, picking up a tiny bit of bread, he thought he’d go up in flames. “Are you okay? Maybe you shouldn’t be out yet,” she said him, hearing his small moan. “No, no I’m fine,” he said, cursing himself as he felt the blood rushing to his cheeks. “Oh yes, always the big he-man, I forgot. I thought maybe getting shot would have made you a little more aware of your mortality.” She 11
Wendy Stone sighed, feeling the irritation that always plagued her around him settle deep inside of her. Why did he have to be such a…a butthead? She looked up at him, drawn as always by his sexy masculine features, the dark hair that turned gold in the sun. The crystalline green of his eyes seemed to almost sparkle as they stared down at her. If he hadn’t been such an ass to her, they could have been friends. Aaron seemed to find a lot in Brandon that he liked, Angel too. “I’m aware of it Shanna, probably more than you know,” he said softly, dropping his gaze to the sandwich he held in his hand. Shanna sighed. “I’m sorry, Brandon. That was uncalled for. I don’t know why we always fight when we’re together. Can you forget I said it and we can start the conversation all over again?” “Yeah,” he said, glancing up to see her smile. “Besides, how can I stay mad at someone who can make such a killer sandwich.” He took another bite. “How’s things going with the divorce?” He watched as her brows drew together and a sound came from her that was almost a growl. “He’s trying to force me to move back to D.C. He’s got some judge that wants to make us go through marital counseling before granting the divorce.” “I hope you have a good attorney,” Brandon said, feeling his own anger rouse. “The best Aaron could get me,” she said. “She’s kept Jackson from knowing my address and knowing where I work or finding anything else out about my life here. She’s trying to put a stop to this last insanity of my husband’s. I wish I’d had the courage to go to the cops before…” She pulled a banana out of the bag, dropping the empty sandwich wrapper back inside and set it on the bench between them. Peeling the ripe fruit, she broke it in half and offered him half. “That does make it a little difficult to prove the abuse, Shan. You do know we won’t let him get his hands on you again, don’t you?” He took the banana and ate it, almost laughing as she pulled a napkin out of her bag and handed it to him to wipe his fingers on. Shanna couldn’t help the flush his words brought to her cheeks. If he only knew how much she actually did think about him or how she’d freaked, when she heard he’d been shot. She had called the hospital everyday and had even gone twice, but both times, she’d chickened out before she could actually go in to visit him.
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Heaven In Her Eyes Why would he want to see her? She was only the younger sister of his best friend, a pain in the butt. She was the one who was always in trouble and needed rescuing. Besides, she’d seen the woman coming out of his room. She’d stood there with the little bouquet of flowers she’d picked up for him, and watched as a tall, leggy blonde with a body that should be walking a runway had bent over kissed his cheek and tucked the blanket around him, laughing at something he’d said. How could she compare with that? She was too short and her boobs were too big for her body. She did have nice hair and refused to get it cut more than a trim to keep the ends healthy. She’d also been told she had pretty eyes, but Shanna thought they were strange looking. What she wouldn’t give for about six more inches of height, preferably all leg, and baby blue eyes she could bat. She sighed again. Looking down into her lap, she glanced at her watch. “Oh shit, I’ve gotta go, Brandon. I’m going to be late getting back.” She got up and gathered up the bag and the banana peel, taking them to one of the trash containers. “Thanks for eating lunch with me,” she said, smiling. “Can I walk you back to the bank?” Brandon heard the words come out of his mouth before he realized he was going to ask. “Do you think you should?” she asked. “I mean, you’ve just been shot.” “Five weeks ago, Shanna. I’m not going to die from a little bit of exercise. If you don’t want me to walk with you, you only have to say so, you don’t have to make up excuses.” He hated the tone of his voice but he couldn’t seem to help himself. “That’s not it, and you know it. I was concerned. Fine, walk me back if it’ll make you feel better.” She turned on her short-heeled shoe and started to stomp off. Brandon caught up with her, admiring the way her hips swayed in the knee length skirt she wore. “Come on, Shan, can’t we spend ten minutes together without ripping on each other?” “It doesn’t seem that way, does it?” She slowed her step, her eyes glancing over at him. “I was concerned that maybe you should still be taking it easy.” “If I take it any easier, I’ll go stark raving Looney tunes,” he grumbled, making her laugh. “That’s right, find amusement from my pain.” “Oh you poor baby. Can’t they put you on a desk or something?” 13
Wendy Stone “Yeah, I start desk duty next week if the doctor signs off on me. Paper work,” he sighed. “The bad thing is I’m looking forward to it. It has to be better than wanting to know if E.J. is going to take off with Sami or if he’s going to get caught.” “Huh?” “Soap operas, I’ve sunk that low,” he sighed miserably, making her laugh more. She opened the door to the bank and he followed her inside, not ready to let her go yet. “So how are the checking accounts in this place?” he asked, looking around the lobby of the small bank branch. “Are you really considering changing banks, Brandon? I can get you the paperwork right now.” “Sure…depending upon the rate of int….” “Everybody down!” There was a rattle of gun fire and Brandon reached out to grab Shanna. He yanked her down behind a small island made of wood, used for writing out deposit slips and such. He held her close, bending his much larger body over her petite one. “Fuck,” he hissed. “Stay down,” he whispered to her, peeking around her to check out the situation. “Okay, good people. If you all behave yourselves, you should all come out of this with nothing more than an exciting story to tell. You,” he said, pointing at one of the girls behind the counter. “Fill up these bags and don’t try to slip any dye packs or tracers in the bags. I’ll know if you do and you’ll be dead. Got it?” He was a big guy, dressed in a sweatshirt and jeans, and carrying an automatic weapon. He fired across the ceiling when the girl didn’t move to take the bags. Another man, dressed the same, with his hood up to hide his face and huge sunglasses covering his eyes, was spray-painting the camera lenses with black paint. When he finished, he tossed the can into one of the trash receptacles before heading over to his buddy and pushing people onto the floor. “On your faces, all of you. If you move, you die!” “Do as they say, Shanna,” Brandon whispered, slowly easing down but keeping his eyes open for any chance to take charge of the situation. He watched the robbers carefully, waiting until they weren’t paying any attention to him, and slowly finagled his hands under the back of his lightweight jacket, reaching for the off duty pistol he carried everywhere. Inch by bare inch, he pulled it from under his jacket, quietly ratcheting the slide to put a bullet in the chamber before hiding it under his body. Shanna watched him, her golden eyes wide with fear. 14
Heaven In Her Eyes “You aren’t going to do anything stupid, are you?” she hissed. “They’ve got machine guns.” “Depends on what you think is stupid,” he hissed back at her, his eyes on the two men. He scoped the room, searching out the other exits and doorways, finding where all the people were. The old guard was flat on the ground, his body still with his hands covering his head. He hadn’t done anything to stop them when they’d come in and he wasn’t making a sound now. A woman and a little girl were sitting close to the robbers, their faces masks of terror as they stared up at them. The little girl was crying, as the mother tried to get as much of her body over the child as she could. They were the ones Brandon would have to be most careful of. Within easy reach, they would make fantastic hostages for two criminals trying to get away. “Hurry up, bitch, get the damn bags filled!” The leader seemed agitated, as he kept glancing around, looking out the big windows that framed the bank, his body tensed. “Want me to find her, Joe?” the other robber asked. “Don’t fucking use my name! God, you dick wad, I knew I shouldn’t have brought you with me. Yeah, find her. Remember, she’s not to be touched. He’s a cold son of a bitch.” He slapped the younger guy on the back of his head, and his sunglasses fell off his nose, only to hit the floor and bounce close to Shanna. The kid, who couldn’t have been more than nineteen years old, his face covered with acne and pot marked from old scars, bent over to get them. He looked toward Shanna, his eyes passed over her face and then came right back to it. He stood, then slid the glasses back on his face. “Black hair, right Joe? Weird colored eyes, short with big boobs, ain’t that what he said?” “Yeah, yeah, that’s what he said. You find her?” Oh fuck, Brandon thought. He was about to get killed. The kid reached down, grabbing Shanna’s arm. “You’re Shanna Clinton?” he asked her, dragging her up to her feet. “Who?” Shanna squeaked. Joe walked up, the bags in his hands. He reached over and back handed Shanna. “Don’t give me that ‘who’ shit. Answer his question,” he growled. Brandon, cursing his luck all the way, stood in one quick graceful movement, bringing his off duty weapon up. “Freeze, FBI,” he shouted. 15
Wendy Stone
Chapter Two For a moment, it was hard to determine who was the more surprised, the two bank robbers or Shanna. She hadn’t expected Brandon to put himself in harm’s way for her once more. Last time he’d been hit on the head hard enough to knock him out. Now he was standing in front of two machine guns with one small pistol. And one big cocky attitude. “Let her go, now.” His growl came from down deep and his size alone should have scared the two men. It did the kid, he dropped her arm and put his hands up in the air, even the one holding his gun. “Come here,” he said to Shanna, not wanting to use her name. Shanna slipped away from the two men, or at least she tried. The floor had been waxed the night before and her shoes had little traction. She took two steps and suddenly she was falling, her hand reaching out to grab whatever it could to stop her from hitting the ground. What she grabbed was Brandon. “Fuck,” he growled, trying to keep his pistol pointed at the two men and grab a hold of Shanna at the same time. She hit his arm, jiggling it and knocking him off balance on the slippery floor. They both went down in a tumble of arms and legs, Shanna’s elbow connecting solidly with Brandon’s eye, her hip gouging into the sensitive area of his groin. He heard shouts, heard the two men running but he couldn’t see anything but stars. The pain in his groin sent a sickening thud to his stomach, which clenched in response making him feel like he was going to hurl. He managed to stave it off, but barely. “Are you okay?” Shanna asked quickly, as she disentangled herself from the heat of his body.
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Heaven In Her Eyes “I may never have children,” he gasped, rolling onto his side and lying there for a moment. “Did they get away?” “Yeah, I’m sorry, Brandon,” she said softly, terribly embarrassed. But she was also frightened. “Why were they looking for me?” “I don’t know, but I’m awfully curious to find out.” He managed to sit up, pulling his legs under him and standing up as the manager of the bank came out to him. “Thank you,” the manager gushed. “You startled them so badly, they left the bags of money behind,” he said, pointing at the bags still lying on the floor. “Did someone call the cops?” Brandon asked, gently probing the area around his eye and finding it was already swelling. “Yes, we hit the silent alarm as soon as they started shooting.” As if to punctuate the point, a black and white car came speeding up, squealing to a stop, two men jumped out of the car and up to the building with their guns drawn. “You’ve missed them,” the manager said, hurrying over to the two cops. “They took off running around the corner.” “Are you sure you’re okay?” Shanna asked Brandon, putting her hand out to touch him, only to drop it when he flinched away from her. “Fine,” he said. “Did you recognize them?” “You mean the two robbers? No, never saw either of them before. Someone told them to grab me, though.” “Could it have been your husband?” he asked, trying to ignore the heavy thud in his groin that matched the pounding in his head. “Jackson wouldn’t think to associate with someone low class, he wouldn’t know how to speak to them,” she said, though he could tell she was thinking about it. “Besides, he doesn’t know where I am, remember, my lawyer has kept my whereabouts quiet.” “Shanna, come join us in the twenty-first century. It’s easy to find people. If you use a credit card, or buy something on line, even if you pay your taxes, you can be found. Paper trails are everywhere you just have to know how to sniff them out.” He turned and took her arms in his big hands. “If he wants to find you, he can do it. Do you have a restraining order out on him?” “No, I never bothered. I never thought he would come after me. Not like this anyway,” she amended. Brandon had flipped the safety back on his pistol, and slid it back in its holster seconds before the next black and white showed up. “We 17
Wendy Stone don’t know it’s him, so don’t go freaking out or anything on me.” He smiled down at her. “The locals are going to have questions, answer them the best you can.” He got out his identification, showing it to the officer who came up to ask him questions, trying to stay as close to Shanna as he could. Shanna answered the questions that were fired at her, growing more frightened. “Did you find them? The bank robbers? They’d know who hired them and why they were trying to take me with them.” “We found them,” the cop said grimly. “They aren’t talking.” He didn’t tell her the reason they weren’t talking, was because each of them had their throats slit. They’d been found in an alley still in their car. The young kid still with his hood up over his head. “Then you need to make them talk,” she said firmly. “I’m going through a sticky divorce right now, but I can’t see my husband doing something like this.” Brandon heard the strain in her voice and reached out, taking her hand in his large one. He jerked a little as she twined her fingers with his, holding on to him like a lover would. “Ms. Clinton has been through a lot, officer. If you have the two suspects in custody, you shouldn’t need her any longer.” “It’s Sergeant Ford, and actually we do need her, Agent…Austin,” he said, glancing down at his notes. “The two suspects were found dead, their throats brutally sliced about a block from here.” “D…dead,” Shanna repeated, her face turning ghostly pale. “Yes. Now if you know anything or can think of anyone who has anything against you, Ms. Clinton, it would be best if you tell us now.” “M…my husband and I are going through legal proceedings, sir. We’re getting divorced. It’s not an amicable split.” She stared down at where she was holding onto Brandon’s hand, she noticed his fingers were white and realized she was squeezing too hard. He hadn’t made a sound to indicate she was hurting him. She relaxed her grip but didn’t release him, instead she held on with her other hand too. “Is the agent here responsible for the split up?” the sergeant asked, gazing with interest at their joined hands. “No,” Brandon said, coming to Shanna’s defense. “I’m a friend of the family. I saw her eating lunch in the park and stopped to talk with her. Then I walked her back to work.” “Who’s your husband, Ms. Clinton?” 18
Heaven In Her Eyes “Senator Jackson Clinton,” Shanna said miserably. “He’s in Washington D.C. at the moment. I can’t see him orchestrating anything like this.” “No telling what some of them political people will do,” the sergeant said under his breath. He wrote down the information including the name of Shanna’s lawyer. “You might want to spend a few days with some friends, ma’am, until we get this whole thing figured out.” He nodded his head at her, leaving her in Brandon’s care. “Damn,” she muttered, coloring slightly as she felt Brandon’s hand come up under her arm, drawing her away from the rest of the police and crime scene people who had tied off the front of the bank, with yellow tape. “Can you stay with Hunt and Angel?” he asked her softly. “I could, but I refuse to let that man scare me like this. Dammit, Brandon. I was just starting to get my life back.” She turned, smacking him with her hand. “Why do you men have to be such arrogant jerks?” “Maybe it’s because you women are all stubborn and bring out the worst in us,” he shot back before forcing himself to take a deep breath. “Okay, I’m going to apologize because this isn’t the time to argue. I talked to your boss and you’ve got the afternoon off. Why don’t you gather your things and I’ll take you over to Hunt’s house?” “I’m not going to Hu…Aaron’s house,” she said slowly as if explaining to a child. “I’ll go home. I’ve got locks on my door and a doorman. Aaron made sure the apartment was in a safe area and that it had good security. I’ll be okay.” “Get your stuff, we’ll talk about it after that,” he said, his tone declaring she shouldn’t try to argue with him right now. She went, but she was determined to get her own way about this, even if she had to go through him to do it. **** His hand cupped her full breast, slipping over the turgid nipple that had darkened to a deep rose due to her pregnancy. He heard her moan, smiling evilly as he trailed his lips over the line of her shoulder. He lifted her arm over his head so he could find the skin of her ribs. “I love you, Mrs. Hunter,” he whispered, pressing his naked body against her back and hearing her moan. 19
Wendy Stone “I love you, Mr. Hunter,” she breathed huskily, caught in the hazy web of passion he seemed to weave so easily around her. His fingers teased her nipple and she caught her breath as the pleasurable sensations sent waves of heat to her loins, drenching her in sweet moisture. Her arousal perfumed the air around them, and she felt as much as heard his groan. “I want you, baby,” she said, arching against his fingers, her naked hips pressing against his groin. She could feel him, hot and heavy, his erection a solid force sliding against her ass. She moved against him, caressing him with every undulation even as his hand slid down over the rounded mound of her stomach, slipping between her slender thighs to dally against her wet flesh. Angel lifted her leg, letting it slide over the hair roughened thigh of her husband who growled at the lurid invitation. “Do you want me, baby?” she asked, giving him a heated glance from over her shoulder. “Oh, give me a minute to think about that,” he groaned, shifting his hips to rub the shaft of his cock against her wet sex. “God, yes, I want you, more everyday. I don’t know how I managed the month you were gone,” he groaned. His hips moved slowly as he felt her heated juices drenching him. “I’ll want you when I have to chase you around with my cane.” “Yeah, but what will we do the week after next,” she giggled, hearing his growl and then felt his hands come down to capture her hips. He held her still, while moving so the head of his cock brushed over her clit. He tortured her, while listening to her whimper and then moan, finally begging him to fuck her. “I don’t know,” he growled. “I might be too old to be able to satisfy you.” “No, oh no, you’re not too old,” she whimpered, trying to move to force him inside of her but he held her still. “You are the most studly of men.” “Studly? Come on, Angel, you can do better,” he whispered in her ear, breathing softly and felt her shiver, as goose flesh spread over her skin. “You are a god, better looking than any man I’ve ever seen, better in bed than any man I’ve ever had…” she had to laugh as he growled again, nipping her neck with his teeth. “I’m the only man you’ve ever had,” he whispered, changing the direction of his hips and pushing easily inside of her. Her heat 20
Heaven In Her Eyes surrounded him as the soft wetness of her velvety passage sheathed him tightly. The feeling was amazing, only with this woman had he ever felt this level of pleasure, this level of commitment, this kind of love. He moved against her, slipping his hand between her thighs, his fingers stroking over her clit. He loved feeling her like this, the way she responded to his every move, his every touch, the way she moaned his name when her pleasure took her, her body clenching around him. He loved the sound of her moans, the soft exhale she gave when he drew her to him afterward. He loved everything about her. He couldn’t believe he’d almost lost her. His eyes trailed down, over the smooth muscles of her back, finding the rough scar that showed where the bullet had torn through her body, coming out and burying itself inside the portrait of her and her mother and then through to the wall. He’d come so close to losing her, so close to having her torn away from him before he really knew what she meant to him. Everything. The thought of the wound, of the days that followed and then the weeks of trying to get over her, hounded him. He drove his hips desperately into hers. His body arched, pushing deeper, as his fingers moving furiously, dragged her ever onward, pushing her towards her peak with an almost ferocious zeal. Angel could hear his ragged breathing, and feel the frantic pace he set even as her passions soared. She knew deep inside what drove him to such urgency and her hand slipped down, cupping his fingers, drawing them over the bud of her clit, as anxious as he to renew the pleasure the two of them shared. She felt the first blush of pleasure as a rapturous gasp, as scalding waves of heat prickled her skin sending shudders of ecstasy through her. Her velvety soft muscles contracted around him, clutching him inside her, pulsating against the sensitive skin of his cock. He groaned as she came, feeling the rush of her pleasure soak his skin, tipping his head back and crying out as his own followed, filling her with the heat of his seed even as he moaned her name. Angel felt limp, her body heavy, unable to even murmur as he gathered her close, dragging her against his chest. His lips caressed her temple, nuzzling into the fiery curls of her hair. “Am I too old, baby?” he whispered, his voice full of arrogance, making her laugh. She opened her mouth to answer, but was interrupted by a soft serenade of bells. 21
Wendy Stone “Damn,” Hunter grouched, reaching across her to drag his shirt from where she’d dropped it earlier. He picked up his cell phone, checking the display. “Two calls in one day, Bran? What, did you get thrown in jail again?” He laughed, only to moan when Angel pulled away, his cock pulling out of her heat. “Very funny, Hunt, did I catch you at a bad time? You sound like you’re in pain?” Brandon paced back and forth while he spoke, staring up at Shanna’s apartment building. She was sitting in her car, fuming, because Brandon refused to let her go up to her apartment by herself. “Just moving some heavy stuff around, nothing major,” he said, laughing when Angel turned and glared at him as she maneuvered her rounded body out of the bed and reached for her robe. Her eyes promised retribution even as she got up and headed into the bathroom to turn on the shower. “So what did you call for this time, buddy?” “It’s your sister, Hunt. You need to talk some sense into her.” He sat on the hood of her car, ignoring her outraged look. “She’s in trouble and I’m only trying to help her but she won’t listen.” “What’s going on? It’s not Sebastian,” he said, quickly lowering his voice. He didn’t want his wife to hear her father’s named mentioned. Not now, not this close to her due date. “No, as far as I know, that ass is behind bars where he belongs. No, I think this has to do with her husband,” he said, then told him what had happened today, ending with where they were. “She wants to go and stay in her own apartment as if nothing’s happened. I didn’t think you’d like that.” He jumped when a hand reached out, taking the phone away from him. His hand grabbed the wrist, twisting it and hearing a very feminine squeal. “Shit, Shanna, don’t do that to me!” he growled, releasing her wrist and letting her keep his phone. “I could have hurt you.” “Touch me again and I will hurt you,” she snarled, rubbing her wrist before speaking into the phone. “Shush, Aaron, I’m fine. Brandon tried to go all Rambo on me because I stole his phone from him.” She listened for a minute. “No,” she said, speaking as firmly as she could. “I don’t need a keeper, either you or him. Don’t even think I’m getting Angel in on this, she’s too far along to deal with the stress.” “No,” she said again, after listening to him talk for a few minutes longer. “No, he doesn’t need…okay but…wait…fine,” she said finally, 22
Heaven In Her Eyes turning and tossing the phone to Brandon before crossing her arms across her chest and glowering at him. “Hey Hunt, what’d you say to her?” Brandon was afraid he was about to go up in flames, and not the kind he’d been accrediting to Shanna recently. The look she had given him was full of anger and annoyance. “Could you do me a favor and check out her place for me?” Hunter asked him. “She’s a grown up and I gotta respect her wishes to a point. But since you are already there, would it hurt for you to check it out?” “No, that’s cool. I’ll take her up and then let her doorman know to watch anyone asking for her.” He spoke for a few more minutes, finally closing up the phone and dumping it in the pocket of his jacket. “This is stupid,” Shanna said, starting across the parking lot, purse in hand, toward her apartment. “I’ve lived here for almost five months now and I’ve never had a bit of trouble. It’s completely safe.” She grumbled and grouched all the way up the three floors in the elevator. She dug her keys out of her purse, heading down a brightly lit hallway that was painted a pale yellow with light colored wood on the lower half of the wall. “This is nice,” he said. Shanna glared at him, turning the key on her door and pushing it open. She started to step inside, opened her mouth to say something to him when Brandon grabbed her arm. “Wait here,” he said, his voice low and serious. He stepped by her, pulling his pistol out of its holster. She turned her head, her eyes widened as she saw the mess from the hallway her usually orderly apartment was in. She could see the mess made where her plant pots had been overturned. The pots she’d picked out with such care had been crushed against the wall, shards of pottery littered the carpet. The small table she’d put in her hallway was on its side, two of the three legs were broken. The pictures she’d placed on it as well as the small tray to hold her keys were crushed, frames twisted, the pictures ripped to shreds. A small keening cry came from her mouth as she stepped into the maelstrom of litter. She felt as if her heart had been shredded as well as her things. Shanna reached down to pick up what was left of her mother’s picture. It had been taken the year she’d been murdered. “How could he?” she whispered, holding it to her breast. 23
Wendy Stone “Shanna, you can’t be in here,” Brandon yelled, trying to urge her back out into the hallway. “I’ve called the police, they are on their way, but you shouldn’t be in here.” He didn’t want her to see the mess in the kitchen, where the food had been thrown on the walls, the dishes broken and the small dining room set trashed. He’d checked the bedroom long enough to make sure whoever had done this was long gone. He’d stared at the mess that had once been her clothing, now little more than scraps of fabric. It had to have taken hours to so thoroughly destroy her home. “I should check and see if anything is missing,” she said hollowly, looking up at Brandon with eyes that almost seemed bruised. “There’s time for that later, Shanna, honey,” he said gently, wrapping his arms around her. He rocked her gently, feeling her soft curves against his body. She fit so wonderfully there, resting against him so trustingly. “My pictures,” she said suddenly, pulling away from him. “My albums, in my room,” she yelled back, hurrying away from him before he could stop her. She pushed open the door to her bedroom, what had once been a cheerful room done in white and yellow, now looked as if a tornado had gone through it. She saw her albums, lying on the floor, the pictures strewn about the room, some crumpled, some ripped. Her eyes searched the room, noting every bit of destruction, finally resting upon the bed. A small whimper escaped her lips, as her hands went to her face, as if to cover her eyes. Brandon turned and stared at the bed, his eyes widening. “Son of a bitch,” he breathed.
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Heaven In Her Eyes
Chapter Three The comforter was torn off the mattress, baring flowered cotton sheets that would give any normal guy hay fever. They were brightly colored, the top sheet neatly folded back. On the pillow was a picture, one of Shanna at her own high school graduation. Brandon could see her in her cap and gown, holding up the rolled diploma with a celebratory fist. She looked so young, actually not much older than she looked now, though Brandon knew she was no little girl. In the center of the picture, almost cutting it in half was a dagger. Shanna shook her head, her eyes huge, as she backed away from this last straw in her camel’s back. Her arms went around her and she hugged herself tightly, feeling as if she were falling apart, unable to look at anything but the end of that dagger sticking out of the picture of her. Brandon saw the rest of the scene. He saw the red rose petals, the pale green silk night gown, and especially the white stains that seemed to go across all of it. It was if the guy who’d done this had stood on top of the mattress, his legs spread, jerking off to the picture of Shanna. “Come on, let’s get out of here. We’re going to want to let the police do what they have to do to find him,” he said quietly, walking over to her and rubbing his hand up her arm. The look she gave him was one of utter defeat, a look he knew too well, having seen the expression on his own face. It was the look of having one thing too many thrust upon you, and not knowing quite how to deal with it. Slowly, he wrapped his arms around her, his hand going to the back of her head, pressing it against his shoulder. “It’s okay, Shanna, we’ll figure this out,” he crooned to her, rocking slightly. At first, she was so stiff, it was like holding a wooden board. But
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Wendy Stone then her arms came around him and she grabbed him fiercely, holding on as if he were the only sure thing in her world. He let her cling, stroking his big hand through the length of her black hair. It felt like softly spun silk against his palm. Her body was warm, her breasts pressed into him, reminding him of those dreams. He felt his body harden, his cock pressing against his zipper and cursed himself silently. She didn’t need him coming on to her like some kind of cave man, not now. Shanna lifted her head, feeling his body tense against hers. He’d been wonderful, holding her, caring about her, his hand in her hair had felt so loving, a feeling she hadn’t known much of since her parents deaths. Her pale amber eyes met his, held to his and suddenly she forgot how to breathe. The expression in that glittering emerald gaze was pure heat. It scorched her with its power, holding her helpless against him. Whatever she’d been about to say was lost, forgotten in the pure wonder of what those eyes made her feel. Brandon felt like a man possessed, his head bending slowly, unable to stop himself from finding the lips he’d dreamed of every night. Of kissing them, satiating himself with her taste, her texture. Softer than the beat of a butterfly’s wings, he settled his mouth against hers, his lips clinging moistly. He pulled back slightly, his hand coming to her cheek, his eyes meeting hers once more. What he saw in her amber gaze made him groan, his mouth swooped down to capture hers, sliding seamlessly against her. His tongue slipped out to caress her lips, coax her into opening her mouth. She let him in, holding onto him as the power of his kiss turned her knees to mush and her brain to oatmeal, making her forget everything but him. He smelled of soap and some spicy aftershave that sizzled her senses. He tasted of banana and dark rich sin that was better than even the richest of chocolates. His lips were hot, soft against hers, even though he kissed her with ever growing fervor. Brandon spun her around, pressing her against the wall of the bedroom, his hands urgent as they roamed over her soft curves and the deep indentation of her waist, his mouth taking and giving pleasure with almost fanatical ardor. He couldn’t seem to get enough of her, couldn’t be close enough. He wanted to feel her skin, to taste it with his lips and his tongue. He wanted to sink into her body and make her his, loving her until she couldn’t remember anything but him. 26
Heaven In Her Eyes His hand tugged at the short white blouse she wore, pulling it from the waistband of her skirt, his fingers sliding under and pressing hotly against the soft skin of her stomach. She sucked in her breath, her muscles tightening under the pleasure of his fingers as they moved across her skin, touching her in ways her husband or the myriad of other men he’d forced her to pleasure never had. He touched her as if he wanted her to feel good, wanted to make her experience the same peak he did. It startled her, even as his fingers crept up to her breast, cupping the large mound in his palm. She was pushing away from him, pulling his hand away from her body, turning away from him. “I…I can’t, Brandon. I…I j…just can’t,” she whispered. “What?” he groaned, his voice sounding faraway to him, almost as if he were waking from a dream. He looked down at her, seeing her swollen lips. Swollen from his kisses, her eyes seemed stunned, almost as stunned as he felt. He fought the urging of his body that wanted to demand that he continue, demanded to find out, if what was under those business clothes was as beautiful as what he remembered from seeing her in that tiny gold shift at Sebastian’s estate. His hands clenched into fists and he stepped back away from her, doing nothing to hide the lurid proof of his desire for her. Shanna’s eyes dropped to his groin, growing wide as she saw how big a bulge strained there. Her hand came to her lips, trembling against those lush, swollen morsels. Then her golden gaze was meeting the heat in his steamy jade eyes, hers shy and a little afraid, his full of his desire for her. “I won’t lie to you, Shanna. I want you, I have since I saw you in Sebastian’s mansion.” He ran one shaking hand through the length of his dark hair, scooping it back from his forehead as he let out a long sigh. “But I won’t force you, no matter how much my body might want me to. The next move is yours, Shanna.” “N…next move?” she asked, her eyes caught in his gaze like a deer in a car’s headlights. She felt something like a deer, caught, held by a force so powerful it was ready to barrel into her and destroy her. “If you want me, if you want to be in my bed, Shanna, you’ll have to let me know.” He turned, staring around the room. “I don’t think there’s anything you can salvage here to wear,” he said. Shanna heard them then, the police who’d come into the open doorway, standing and staring at the destruction that surrounded the 27
Wendy Stone couple. “N…no, I think he’s ruined everything,” she said, knowing in her heart she meant more than the clothing. Jackson Clinton had seemed like such a loving, wonderful man, teasing her out of her shyness, helping her to find herself under the overly protective shell her brothers had cocooned her in. He’d been smart, funny, with an engaging wit he had always seemed ready to turn back on himself. He made it seem as if her failings were his at first, as if he were at fault when she wasn’t quite sure, or quick enough to grasp the concept of whatever he was telling her about. They’d hidden their relationship, for Jackson was in his twenties, in his final year in college when he’d notice the shy girl at a football game. Her brother, Aaron, was playing and she was rooting him on when Jackson stepped up next to her. He’d been like a Greek god with his swarthy good looks and wide shoulders. He’d had all the girls tittering about him and here he was, talking to her. He was kind, gentle, speaking to her softly, asking questions about her and coaxing her into opening up. By the time halftime was over, Shanna was already head over heels for Jackson Clinton. When he asked for her phone number, she’d been reluctant to give it, knowing her brothers and how they would screen her calls, refusing to allow her to date a man so much older than her. Instead, he gave her his and set up a time she could call him. It had taken every bit of courage she had, but she’d made that call. He’d answered on the first ring, as if he’d been as anxious to hear from her. He made her laugh, he made her blush with his compliments, he made her soar because he said he was falling for her. She’d been such a fool. After high school graduation, she’d told her brothers about him. They had reacted predictably. Dillon grounding her to the house, Aaron playing the mediator between the two, cautioning her hot-tempered brother Dillon. It hadn’t helped when Dillon had met Jackson, at Aaron’s urgings, and had hated him, telling them both their relationship was over. Shanna had been heartbroken. For the first time since their parents had died, she’d argued with Dillon, fighting for her right to have her own life. Stubborn Dillon, she thought now. He always did know what was best even when she’d been too stupid to realize it. 28
Heaven In Her Eyes So she’d done the next best thing. She had run away. Jackson had picked her up, and they’d driven to a dress store, where he’d bought her the wedding dress of her dreams. Their next stop was to a Justice of the Peace, where they’d spoken their vows in front of the JOP’s wife and a friend of Jackson’s who’d come with them just for that reason. The next nine years had been hell. A hell of her own making as far as Jackson was concerned. She should have been more supportive, she should have been willing to do whatever was necessary to help her husband get ahead. He was on the political fast track, one of the youngest Senators in history. She should be willing to do whatever he needed her to do to further his political career. He was going to be President someday. Did she want to be the First Lady? All the while, he would use her body as he wished, not caring how badly he hurt her or how tightly he tied her up. It was up to her to hide the bruises and the rope burns, to explain away the limps and the sprains. He had put her on birth control, denying her the large family she’d always dreamed of having, soothing her with little gifts and phrases. Such as, ‘in the next couple years,’ or as soon as he ‘made it past this plateau.’ Her first night with him had been horrible, the beautiful gown ripped from her body, she’d been thrown to the bed. Protesting and pleading, she’d lain under his thrusting body as the veil of her innocence was rudely ripped from her by his savage thrusts. He’d squeezed her breasts as if they were fruit, mauling her skin, slapping her thighs. When he was done, she had laid where he’d left her, her eyes dead of any kind of emotion. Her legs were still open, his semen slowly oozing, mixed with the pink tinge of her virgin’s blood. She’d looked like a broken doll, her make up smeared over her face, what was left of the sexy white lingerie she’d worn under the dress hanging from her body. He’d sneered at her, laughed at her, and then dressed himself. Not even bothering to wash the blood from his cock, before shoving it into a pair of briefs. He’d left her then, going down to the lounge to find ‘more pleasing partners,’ leaving her to finally roll on her side, crying for all her lost dreams. If she’d been smart, she’d have left him that night. Dressed and walked back to her brothers, told them how foolish she’d been and gotten their help. But she couldn’t. She couldn’t admit to her mistake, she couldn’t face her brothers, not now, not after the things he’d done to her. 29
Wendy Stone Perhaps Jackson had expected her to, she didn’t know. She did know that when he came back to their room the next morning, smelling of alcohol and reeking of cheap perfume, he’d been surprised to see her. They’d started their lives together that morning, going to his parents to announce their marriage. They were cold people who stared at her plain clothing and unsophisticated style and looked down their noses at her. His father had plans for Jackson, had started him towards those plans the day he passed the Bar. Shanna would have to keep up or get left behind. She’d done her best, keeping the house clean, hosting parties though at first she’d been tongue tied anytime any one talked to her. People nicknamed her Jackson’s mousy little wife and no one of any consequence. The evidence was his willingness to be seen in public with beautiful women, models and actresses, all having what she didn’t. Grace, social aptitude, long legs, these came easily with the women Jackson surrounded himself with. The first time Jackson had demanded she get down on her knees and give him a blowjob, in front of a few of his buddies, she’d been shocked. At first, she’d thought he was kidding. Until he’d slapped her, knocking her to the floor, then dragged her up by her hair to kneel in front of him. He’d forced her to pleasure him there, laughing as she sobbed around his cock. Mortified as he’d reached out, pulled down her shirt and exposed her breasts to his friends. “This is why I keep her around,” he’d said to his friends. “She can suck a golf ball through a straw.” Shanna would never forget those words or the way those men had treated her from then on. She wasn’t safe from them anywhere. They’d trap her in corners, their hands wandering where they will, pulling and groping over her shrinking flesh. If Jackson had come upon them, he would laugh, patting his friend upon the back before pulling her away. They whispered their obscenities, promised to find her sometime when Jackson wasn’t around to stop them. She had lost weight and couldn’t sleep, her eyes growing almost bruised looking. She grew pale and pallid until Jackson sent her to their country home in Virginia to recuperate. He didn’t mourn her loss, but she greeted the freedom with open arms. She took long walks, able to relax without Jackson and his friends no longer around to torture her. She read whatever took her fancy at the time, books on philosophy, on politics, and even some steamy romance 30
Heaven In Her Eyes novels. She dreamed dreams of freedom, dreams of family and never having to look over her shoulder. She blossomed, her cheeks radiating a rosy tone of good health, her body becoming fit and healthy. She could have stayed there forever. Until Jackson sent for her, then her dreams and fantasies came tumbling down. She so wanted to say no, to refuse to return to that horrid apartment and his horrid friends. Instead, she packed, returning to her husband’s side as he ran for Senator. She hosted his parties with a new sense of self, she hadn’t had before. She’d learned to talk to the people that worked with and for her husband, to play the part of a happy campaigning wife. But everyday she grew to dread her life more, from the moment she could hear his footsteps outside her room until they would pass by, she would hold her breath, praying that tonight he wouldn’t be interested in her. She prayed he would find her boring if she lay underneath him, suffering his cruel and punishing hands, shrinking from his probing and pinching fingers. She suffered his kisses, hating every moment of his tongue pushing into her mouth, wiggling inside like some kind of thick worm. She found no pleasure in the thrusting of his body, or the burning and tearing that happened when he forced himself into her dry sex. She endured, squeezing her eyes tightly closed and counting the seconds until he would grunt over her, holding on to her shoulders and pulling her tightly against him, shooting his seed inside of her. There were no soft words, or tender embraces, no romance or heated passionate glances between her and Jackson. There was no love, no comfort or even conversation. She was a prop, one he made use of the best way he could to further himself. The final straw had come one night after one of his “meetings” at their apartment. Most of the people had left, it was late and Jackson was in his den. She could smell his cigar smoke and hear the clink of glasses, as well as the lowered voices of men behind the doors. It was her duty to stay, to be available should one of their guests require anything, to be there to show them to the door at the end of every affair Jackson hosted, be it a gala or just his weekly meetings. She’d taken to sitting on the living room sofa, where she could see the door of his den and know when it would open. It gave her plenty of time to be in position to wish the departing guest a pleasant evening, and call for their car to be brought around. 31
Wendy Stone That night, Jackson had opened the door, calling her into his study. She’d risen from the sofa, nervous at this change. Smoothing down her skirt, she walked towards her husband, every hair in place, not a run in her stocking, her makeup immaculate. He’d introduced her to his guests, ever the charming host. Then he had uttered the words that still sent a shiver of horror down her spine. “Our guests would like to see you naked, my dear. Strip for them.” She’d tried to run, willing to deal with any beating, any abuse her husband could dish out. But he was too fast. He’d forced her to strip, then forced her to service those three men, feeling his eyes on her as they had raped her body. When it was done, they had left her lying in the den, her body bruised and oozing their hideous sperm, she knew she couldn’t do it anymore. She couldn’t live this life, no matter what her family said. She couldn’t stay with a man who would whore her out. Even now, the pain of the things they had done sent chills through her, making her feel nauseous, making her feel dirty and unworthy. So she’d crawled to her room, taken the hottest shower she could stand, while scrubbing her body until she felt raw. She’d brushed her teeth, using almost half a bottle of mouth-wash, desperately trying to get the taste of them out of her mouth, the feel of them off her skin and out of her body. She made her plans. She’d sneaked out after he left for work, running away with very little. Some money she’d managed to squirrel away, a few of the cheaper bits of jewelry, the more expensive was kept in a safety deposit box, which she couldn’t get to. She had her wedding ring, and she’d hocked it, using the little bit of money she was able to get to buy a bus ticket to Texas and her brothers. Now he wanted her back. Even the thought of being under his thumb, of the things he’d forced her to do made her want to vomit. “I need to go away,” she whispered. “I need to go somewhere he can’t find me.” “What happened to I can take care of myself?” Brandon asked, making her jump. “That was before he did this,” she said, indicating the room around them. “I can’t stay with Angel and Aaron, not with her due soon. I can’t put her through this stress, and what if he sends more of his thugs after me? They’d kill her and the baby.” 32
Heaven In Her Eyes “Don’t you think you’re being a touch melodramatic?” he asked, trying to calm her down. “Melodramatic? Ask those two robbers if I’m being melodramatic. God, Brandon,” she threw up her hands, walked away from him and towards the front door of her apartment. “You don’t know what he did…what he forced me to… You just don’t know him.” Brandon glanced at the two cops who were watching them. He walked over to Shanna, and grabbed her hand. “Slow down, sweetheart,” he said gently. “No, I don’t know. I don’t think anyone does but you. You’ve been pretty closed mouthed about your relationship. But you aren’t alone anymore. You’ve got family and friends here who are willing to help you. You’ve just got to let us help you.” “There isn’t much that can be done,” she sighed softly, a tear streaming down her cheek. She felt defeated, unable to think. “Come on,” he said softly. “I’ll take you somewhere safe where you can get some sleep. Just give me a minute to talk to the cops.” He left her staring at the wreckage and went to the two officers. He flashed them his identification. “She’s had a pretty rough day,” he said, before telling them everything he knew. “She needs to sign a complaint,” one of the officers said. “We don’t even know for sure if it’s him or not.” The cop scratched his head. “We’ll get crime scene in here, let them pull this place apart. She’s going to have to make a statement.” “I’ll bring her down to the station later,” Brandon said. “Okay, but sooner is better,” the cop said, taking down his name and address. “Has she been able to tell if anything is missing?” Brandon looked around at the mess then stared at the officer, incredulous. “Do you think if someone did this to your home you could tell if something were missing?” “You’ve got a point.” Brandon went back to Shanna, taking her arm. “Come on,” he said gently. “But…someone has to stay here, to lock up when they get done. I’ve got to clean this mess up,” she said, her voice shaking. “We’ll take care of it tomorrow, Shan. I gave the cop your key and he’s going to lock the door when the crime unit is done. Then we’ll pick it up from the police later, when we go to make a statement.” He pulled on her arm, gently steering her around the worst of the wreckage and heading towards the door. 33
Wendy Stone “But I don’t have any clothes, or…or…” her voice trailed off and she quit fighting him. “It’s okay, honey,” he said softly. “We’ll worry about all of that later. For now, I think you could use something to eat and someplace quiet to try to get your head around all of this.” He pulled her through the door as two men with black jackets and fishing tackle cases were coming down the hallway. Brandon nodded at the men before continuing down the hall. Shanna was quiet in the elevator, shaken up by more than the fact her apartment had been wrecked. The kiss. It was something she’d never have expected from Brandon. The feelings he had evoked, such wondrous feelings she’d never felt before. She wanted to feel them again, she wanted to tell him she wanted to kiss him again. She rolled her eyes. Yeah, she could just see it. Brandon, would you kiss me again, but don’t do anything else, because I’m afraid you’ll turn out to be like Jackson. What man would be happy with only a kiss? “Tell me what you’re thinking,” he said quietly, breaking into her thoughts. Shanna looked up from where she’d been studying her fingers. “I was thinking about…kissing you.” “Really,” he said softly, a smile growing on his handsome face. “What about kissing me?” The door to the elevator opened and another couple got in, smiling at Shanna who greeted them by name. Brandon had to bide his time, waiting until the elevator reached the lobby before letting the other couple go out in front of them and then holding her hand to slow her step. “You didn’t answer me,” he said softly, twining his fingers in hers. “What about kissing me?” “I…It was different than what I had expected,” she said, a blush shading her cheeks an adorable pink. “I…don’t like kissing, but with you…” “With me…” he urged softly. “It was nice,” she finished, glancing up into his green eyes. “Just nice?” he asked, walking her around to the passenger side of her car and standing by the door. “No, it was more than nice. I didn’t know kissing could be like that.” She looked up at him, noticing how close he was, how her back was 34
Heaven In Her Eyes pressed against the car, how she had only to reach out to put herself in his arms. “Your husband didn’t kiss you like that?” he asked, wondering if she’d married a psychopathic idiot. Who could pass up lips like hers? “Before we were married, he said kissing was too hard on him, that it made him want me too much. After…well, afterwards, he said a woman’s mouth was good for one thing and it wasn’t kissing,” she said quickly, wishing she could call the words back as soon as she’d said them. She’d never told anyone how bad it was, not even Aaron. “Your husband is an idiot.” “Well, I guess we finally found something we both agree on,” Shanna said, smiling up at him. Her smile died when she saw the look in his eyes. It was heat, lust mixed with a gentleness she hadn’t expected to see in him. “I want to kiss you again,” he said softly, his eyes dropping to her lips, his fingers coming up to brush against them. “I won’t lie to you, Shanna. I want to do a whole hell of a lot more than just kiss you, but I won’t force myself on you. I think you and I need to talk. Then after we’ve talked, if you want to use me to practice up on your kissing, I promise to be the most patient of instructors.” He smiled, his fingers trailing across her moist lips before sliding to her ear. He took a stray strand of her hair, pushing it behind the petal softness of her ear. “R…really?” she asked him, barely able to breathe. “I promise, Shanna. You have nothing to fear from me.” He bent closer and she thought for a moment he meant to kiss her right there, her eyes fluttering in anticipation. But he only reached for the door handle, opened her car door and settled her inside. He hurried to his side, jumping in and starting the engine after readjusting the seat to fit his long limbs. Smiling over at her, he put the car in gear and slid easily into the light early afternoon traffic. Neither noticed the plain, four-door sedan that pulled out after them.
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Wendy Stone
Chapter Four The ride to his apartment was made mostly in silence. Shanna’s mind seemed to be whirling through everything that had happened to her, almost unable to comprehend it all. She finally closed her eyes, trusting in Brandon’s driving which for once didn’t get on her nerves. Brandon glanced over at her every few moments. She looked so tense, even with her eyes closed, as if she expected a crash to happen at any moment. He slipped his hand off the gear stick, letting it rest on the soft skin of her knee, squeezing gently. “It’ll be okay,” he said. “Promise?” she asked, opening her eyes and trying to smile at him. “I promise,” he said, taking his hand off off her knee to use it to make a cross over his heart. “Hope to die,” he joked. “Don’t ever say that,” she hissed. “If anything happened to you, I’d…never forgive myself, Brandon. You don’t understand what Jackson is capable of.” “I’ve seen a lot of bad things, Shan. My job kind of revolves around the bad things in life. I would never underestimate what a human being is capable of doing.” He rubbed his hand over his chest, remembering the look on the girl’s face just before she pulled the trigger. “She wasn’t very old, was she?” “She’d just reached her eighteenth birthday,” he said, turning his head to look at traffic. “She’ll never see another one outside cement walls. The worst thing about it,” he sighed heavily, feeling the strain sitting on his shoulders still, “it wasn’t her fault.” “You can’t think it was your fault.” “No, I was just the lucky one who happened to be there when she finally couldn’t handle it anymore. Actually, I blame her father. The man had been abusing her since she was a baby. Physical, mental, emotional 36
Heaven In Her Eyes cruelty and it reached its peak. I got the fall out.” He slowed to a stop at a busy intersection, waiting for the light to turn green. “I’m going to tell you something I haven’t told anyone else, Shanna.” He looked over at her. “I…I don’t know if I can go back to it, to the bureau and to all that bad.” “You can,” she said, her hand going to his. “It’s been your life for so long, how could you not?” “That’s my personal dilemma.” He smiled wryly, his eyes flicking to hers and than back to the light. “It’s hard to know what to do sometimes. I wonder if I’ll be able to go back, knowing what’s out there and how much of it there is.” They fell silent for the rest of the short trip, pulling into the parking lot outside Brandon’s apartment. Shanna sat in the car, staring at the building for a moment. “The first time I saw this place I was riding on an emotional rollercoaster. I’d just left Jackson, for the first time in my life, I’d actually taken control of my life. I was looking for Aaron and remembered you had been assigned to the Federal offices here.” “Yeah, you woke me up if I remember correctly, and I had to tell you Hunt had been missing.” “But you’d just heard from him, he wanted you to send daddy’s journals.” Shanna turned to look at him. “You’ve been a good friend to Aaron, doing all of that and now being stuck with me. Thank you.” “You don’t have to thank me, Shanna. I have my own ulterior motives,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows and acting like he was twirling a mustache. It made her laugh as he’d hoped and he got out of the car, coming around to her side to get her out before she could even reach for the handle. “My lady,” he said gallantly, twirling her out of the way of the door before closing it. “Oh, does this make you my white knight?” “Sir Brandon of the wounded heart,” he chuckled. He clicked the lock button on the key ring control and they headed into his place. Digging out his keys, he opened the door to his apartment, ushering her in. “Wow,” she said. “Did the hospital accidentally give you OCD?” The place was immaculate, not a spot of dust or a speck of grime littered any of the furniture. The sink shone so brightly she thought she might need sunglasses.
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Wendy Stone “I’ve been bored out of my mind, Shanna. I told you, soap operas look good to me now.” He walked past her, trying to hide the blush that suffused his cheeks. “Ah, so you’re normally an obsessive compulsive, okay, got it. It’s just, this place didn’t look like this last time I was here. I mean, where’s the coffee cups and the pizza boxes, and the newspapers?” “Cupboard, incinerator and recycling box,” he said, glaring at her. “Now quit picking on me. You don’t like mushrooms, right?” he asked her, grabbing for his phone. He placed the order before she could say anything, dropping the phone back in the cradle and going into his bedroom. Returning, he handed her a pair of sweats, a sweatshirt, and a thick pair of socks. “I thought you might like to get comfortable.” “Does it bother you, having me here, Brandon?” she asked him, both upset and intrigued by the thought. “What bothers me is that I’d like to have you, here and now,” he said, his eyes shining like jade fire. “You’re a tempting little tidbit, Shanna.” “I…I didn’t mean…I can leave…” she turned, staring at the door. Brandon stepped up behind her, his hand coming to the flat of her stomach, pulling her against his big body. “I don’t want you to leave,” he whispered huskily. “I like having you here. I like it too much, I think,” he groaned. “But I told you, you’re safe. I won’t hurt you or do anything you don’t want me to. I won’t force myself on you, Shanna. I promise you.” “Can I…I shoot you if you get out of line?” she asked, not wanting to move. He felt so good behind her but he also made her nervous, her stomach tightened and the sick feeling rose, the one that was always there whenever Jackson came too close to her. Brandon reached behind him and pulled out his off duty weapon, making sure the safety was on. “Have you ever handled a weapon before?” he asked her. “No,” she said, staring at the piece he held in front of her. “Then that is what we’re going to do, first thing tomorrow. I’ll take you to the range and give you lessons, Shanna. But until then, how about if I promise I’ll behave and if I don’t, you can have Hunt take me to task?” He put the gun back in its holster. “Now, go change, I’ll get us something to drink while we wait for the pizza.”
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Heaven In Her Eyes When she came back out, he had the news on the television, two glasses of red wine sitting on the coffee table and he had taken off his jacket and shoes, and was sitting on the sofa. Brandon looked up from the news program he was watching, his eyes going to the woman dressed in his sweats. They hung on her much smaller form, she’d rolled up the pant legs and the shirt sleeves, but she still looked like a little girl playing dress-up in her big brother’s clothes. She’d pulled her thick black hair up into a ponytail, letting it trail down her back to almost reach her waist. There shouldn’t be anything stimulating about how she looked, nothing physically arousing about the huge old sweats and the thick socks, but he found her so anyway. He patted the sofa cushion, inviting her to come and join him, holding out the glass of wine he’d poured for her and prepared himself for a long evening of being sexually aroused. “Anything on the news?” she asked, coming around the sofa to take the glass from him, and then sitting down in the other corner. “They had a blurb on the robbery, didn’t mention what happened to the crooks after they fled the scene though.” His eyes trailed over her and he couldn’t help but wonder what she was wearing under the bulky sweats. “You’re doing it again,” she said, taking a sip of the wine he’d given her. It was cold and fruity, not too dry, very much to her taste. “What am I doing?” he asked, confused. “Staring at me,” Shanna said, putting down the wine and picking up a pillow to throw at him. Brandon caught it, smiling. “I couldn’t help myself. You look so…cute.” “Cute?” she asked, her eyebrows rising, the amber of her eyes dancing with humor. “I look so cute?” “Wrong word? Okay, how about adorable?” he ducked as another pillow went flying at him. He caught it and sent it back at her, hitting her in the face and making her growl, though she had a huge smile on her face. Shanna rose to her knees, taking the pillow and using it to bash against his head, though the soft down did nothing to impart any intelligence into his thick skull. Instead of grabbing for the pillow, he grabbed for her instead, dragging her against him, his fingers finding her ribs, digging in mercilessly while she squirmed and giggled against him. 39
Wendy Stone “Stop, Brandon,” she pleaded breathlessly. “What’ll you give me?” His fingers slowed their torturous trek across her ribs giving her a moment to take a deep breath. “What do you want?” she asked him, narrowing her eyes suspiciously. “Hmmm, now that’s not a loaded question,” he stared down at her feeling every bit of her against his body since she was almost lying on top of him. “A kiss,” he decided. “One that you give to me and it can be any kind of kiss you want to give.” “That’s it? One kiss and nothing more?” He stared at her for a moment. “Okay, one kiss, and then you’ll admit that I’m the smartest and best looking man you’ve ever met. That should satisfy me.” “Satisfy you and that huge ego of yours,” she said, sighing. She rolled her eyes, fisting her small hand and punched him in the shoulder lightly. “God, I can’t believe you’re going to make me do this.” “Oh God, Shanna,” he said suddenly. “If it’s too much, I mean, I forgot for a minute about…” “No,” she said laughing. “It’s not the kiss so much, it’s the lying I can’t deal with. Oh Brandon, you are the smartest and bestest looking man I’ve ever met,” she said on a sigh reaching back to twirl her hair. His eyes narrowed and he brought his big hand down lightly on her rump, growling in fake rage. “Shut up and kiss me, woman,” he snarled. Shanna stared at his lips a moment, licking her own nervously. Now the moment was at hand, she had a whole field full of butterflies fluttering in her stomach. “Any kind of kiss?” she asked him, cocking her head to the side. “Any kind of kiss,” he confirmed. His eyes watched her face, noticing every emotion, every nuance of an expression. “Close your eyes,” she said finally, using her hand to blindfold him. “I can’t concentrate when you’re staring at me.” He obediently kept his eyes closed, feeling his anticipation rise. “You know, I’m not getting any younger over here.” He felt the tiniest hiss of her breath against his skin and then soft lips resting lightly against his. For an instant he thought she would pull back, giving him his victory kiss and that was it. But then he heard the small moan, felt her lips part and the sweetest stroke of her tongue against his mouth. He parted his lips, pliant under her, letting her explore, letting her keep control of the kiss. 40
Heaven In Her Eyes It was erotic torture, feeling her against him, his hands resting on her hips. He wouldn’t move, he wouldn’t take over, seduce her like he so desperately wanted. She needed to know sex was pleasurable, not only for a man but for a woman too. Her tongue dipped between his parted lips, flicked against the hardness of his teeth before going further. He let his tongue slide against hers, let her play with his to her hearts content. When she finally lifted her head, he had to fight the urge to slide his hands into her hair and bring her back down for more. His body was taut, his cock hard and throbbing inside the jeans he wore. But he would keep his word if it killed him. “How was that?” she asked him quietly. His moan rumbled in his chest, his eyes opened, heavy lidded. “You were perfect,” he said quietly. Her smile was his reward for his restraint. “So if I’m perfect, that means I don’t need any more practice?” she asked, teasing him. “Hey, I didn’t say that. You don’t want to get rusty now do you?” “No,” she said, dipping her head down close to his again, her amber eyes locked on his mouth. “I don’t want that at all.” To his utter delight, she kissed him again, playing with his lips, nibbling on them, rubbing against them. Her tongue tasted him, tangled with his, twisted against his until they were both breathless. Only then did she come up for air, her hands lost in the softness of his hair. “You taste so good,” she whispered. “So do you.” He scooted down further on the couch, twisting with her until he lay on his back, his feet hanging off the end where she’d been sitting. She lay on top of him, her body pressing against his with an intimacy that sent the blood rushing to her cheeks. “Much better,” he groaned, though his hands still rested on the deep curve of her waist, his fingers spread across her hips. “What if I were through kissing you?” she teased him, crossing her arms on his chest and resting her chin on them. “Well, then I guess I’d flip us over and we could watch TV.” He started to do just that, only to be stopped as she kissed him again. This time he took control, kissing her passionately, letting her feel how much he wanted her. Every time she would start to pull back, he’d change the direction of the kiss, change its intensity, his lips rubbing gently or feasting urgently, his tongue teasing or warring with her own. 41
Wendy Stone Shanna had never felt like this, felt so flushed and hot, or felt the tingles that ran from his lips through her body, like tiny electrical shocks. Her sex grew wet, her breasts felt heavy, almost swollen, her nipples hard tips, she was sure he could feel through the soft fabric of his sweatshirt. “I…I feel so weird, Brandon,” she whispered when he let her up for air. “Weird, like your heart is pounding?” he asked, lifting his hand to her face. “The blood is rushing through your veins so fast you can hear it, you can barely breathe, and there is a heaviness deep in your stomach, a tightness that is throbbing in time to the beating of your heart. You want me to kiss you again, don’t you?” “Yes,” she whispered, enthralled by his words. “Do you want me to touch you, Shanna?” he could barely breathe as he waited for her to answer. When it came, it was so quiet, he almost didn’t hear her. “Y…yes,” she sighed. Fear gnawed at her stomach, her mind wanted to rebel at the thought of a man’s hands groping at her again, twisting and probing, hurting her. But this was Brandon. He wouldn’t hurt her. He wouldn’t, her mind insisted, trying to calm her own fears. “Sit up,” he said, helping her to straddle his waist. She waited for him to yank off her sweatshirt, amazed when his fingers went to his shirt instead, freeing the buttons and pulling the two sides off, until his chest was bare to her eyes. “You touch me,” he said. “Do whatever you wish to me.” Her eyes were wide as she stared down at the muscled plains of his chest. She could see the slight spattering of hair that trailed down the center, stopped by the scar tissue that covered the once gaping bullet hole. “This did almost kill you,” she whispered, sliding her fingers gently over the rough skin. Then she surprised them both, bending down and lowering her lips to his chest, her mouth moving softly against his skin. “I came to see you,” she said, staring up at him. “When? In the hospital you mean?” “Yeah,” she said, her fingers trailing down to his stomach. “I don’t remember seeing you there.” His brow furrowed as he tried to remember, but the early days, the days when he hung between life and death were a blur to him. “You wouldn’t, I chickened out.” Her fingers brushed across the small tip of his nipple, jerking a little when he groaned in pleasure. 42
Heaven In Her Eyes “Why? I would have liked to see you, Shanna.” “You were…busy,” she said, nuzzling her nose into his neck and breathing in his scent. “The first time I was there, you were hooked up to all these machines and you looked so…I couldn’t go in, I didn’t want to get you mad at me and make things worse. The second time, well, you had company.” “You could have come in anyway, Shanna,” he groaned, feeling her lips pressing against his throat, her tongue coming out to taste him. His hands inched up under the soft fabric of her sweat-shirt, finding the heat of her slim waist, resting against the silkiness of her skin. Her soft palms stroked over him, her hands kneading his skin like a tiny kitten would. She reveled in the freedom he gave her, the freedom to touch, to explore and taste, to kiss him how she wanted with no fear. Every groan that came from his mouth sent her desires higher, every moan made her fears less. She could feel the heat of his hands on her skin and it felt good. No, it felt much better than just good, it felt wonderful. She looked up at him, biting her lower lip as she fretted over what she wanted to do. “Um, Shanna, unless you’d like me to nibble on that lip, you might want to let it loose,” he groaned, his body tight as a bowstring under her. “I…I want you to touch me, Brandon,” she said in a rush, staring at him with a look like horror on her face when she’d finished. “Are you sure?” She only hesitated an instant before she nodded. “Take your hair out for me,” he whispered, lifting her again until she sat astride him. He sat up also, scooting her around until she was sitting in his lap, her back to his front. Her hair smelled like flowers, sweet and clean, and he gave into the temptation to bury his face in the silken cloud of it for a moment. Then his lips found her throat, hot and demanding, they explored every sweet line, finding the soft skin under her ear and torturing it with tiny nibbling bites. She shivered under his hands, her head tipping further to the side to give him better access. “That feels…ahh,” she moaned, her hands clenching in her lap. “Ahh good, or ahh bad?” he asked, his breath sending tickling sensation into her ear, starting goose flesh down her throat. “Good,” she moaned. 43
Wendy Stone “Can I take off the sweatshirt?” His hands went to the waistband, resting there until she nodded. It was about the bravest thing she’d ever done, letting him strip that shirt from her body. For not only did removing it expose her breasts and skin to him, but the scars left her in the years of her husband’s abuse. They were ugly reminders of his hideous little tortures, scars on her breasts from where he would dig in with his nails or bite her. She had scars on her stomach from where he’d burned her once with his cigar when she hadn’t moved fast enough to get him an ashtray. She had scars on her back from his belt. When she’d returned from the country, Jackson hadn’t been happy to see her so healthy. It was as if it was a betrayal of him that she had prospered so well away from him. He’d felt the need to ‘bring her to heel’ as he’d told her. Like a bitch in his kennel, she’d been forced to sit at his feet, to perform for him. Finally, he’d forced her to suck on that repugnant piece of flesh, and swallow his disgusting seed. She tensed, almost as if expecting Brandon to comment upon the scars, waiting for the questions, the recriminations, the accusations to come. But he didn’t, laying his hands gently on her stomach, making little circles on her skin with his fingers. He kissed her cheek, trailing his mouth down until she turned her head, finding his mouth with her own, kissing him the way she wanted to and hearing his groan. His palms slid up, feeling the ragged skin of her own small scar before sliding up the soft ladder of her ribs, feeling her suck in her stomach, tightening muscles as he finally cupped her breasts in his big hands. She’d taken off her bra when she’d changed clothing, leaving the luscious mounds bare to his hands and his eyes. They were big, filling his hands full, her nipples taut little peaks in their centers. “You’re so beautiful, Shanna,” he whispered against her mouth before drawing away, staring down at her body, lying so trustingly against him. Shanna could feel his heart thundering against her back, she could hear the harsh sound of his breathing as his hands gently kneaded the firm flesh of her breasts, finding her nipples with the center of his palms and teasing them. It felt so good, so unlike anything she’d felt before, but it was also scaring her. “I…I’m scared, Brandon,” she whispered. “There’s nothing to be scared of,” he said, slipping his tongue across her shoulder. “Wait, sit up.” She did, feeling him moving around behind her. 44
Heaven In Her Eyes “Let me have your arm,” he said, and she felt him slip something over her arm, then did the same with the other, sliding the shirt he’d been wearing up and over her shoulders. Then he pulled her back down, settling her against him with a sigh. “Does that help?” It did help, despite the fact her breasts were still exposed to his eyes and his hands, she didn’t feel so vulnerable. “Yes,” she sighed, turning in his arms until she sat across his lap. “Thank you.” “You don’t have to sound so stunned,” he chuckled, lifting her chin and dropping a soft kiss upon her lips. “I told you I wouldn’t hurt you and I meant it.” His hands came up, one cuddling her to him, the other softly tracing patterns on her smooth flesh before moving up to touch her pale pink nipple. He took it gently between two fingers, twisting softly, watching her face as she bit her lip again in confusion. It felt so good when he did that, so unlike how it felt when other men had, when they’d pinched and pulled, grabbed and twisted harshly at her skin, leaving bruises and tiny cuts on her flesh. His hands were warm, his touch so careful that she relaxed into his arm, leaning back to give him access, her eyes on his face. He was watching his hand, staring at her creamy breasts, trying to ignore the cruel scars he saw. The time for questions would come later, when she trusted him enough to tell him exactly what that bastard had done to her. Even then, he would have to hide the rage he felt, for he knew it would frighten her. He could barely stand it himself, knowing how badly she’d been hurt, how little trust she had for men. He found it amazing she was laying in his arms, her beautiful breasts spread before him like a luscious feast. He had to have a taste. Before she knew what he was about to do, he dipped his head, letting his lips surround one plump tip. He suckled softly, using his tongue to flick gently against the tightening bud. He heard her gasp, felt her hands come up to bury into his hair and waited for her to pull him back. But she didn’t. Instead, her hands caressed his hair, slipping across his neck, her back arching to grant him more, more of her succulent flesh, more of her taste, more of her sweet scent. He moaned, the vibrations tickling around her nipple, making her shudder in joy. “Oh, Brandon,” she gasped, her voice an almost guttural growl. “What are you doing to me?” “Loving you,” he moaned, his mouth sliding from one nipple to the other, his fingers capturing the first wet bud and playing with it. 45
Wendy Stone “Showing you that what is between a man and a woman should be beautiful and pleasurable to both of them.” His mouth suckled deep, his cheeks hollowing out. Shanna felt a tightening in her loins, a tugging in her womb that seemed to come from his fingers and his mouth at her breast. She felt it grow in intensity as he kept up his caresses until she was almost mindless, her thighs pressing together, her body arching into his mouth, desperate cries coming from between her lips. His hand slid from her breast, over her stomach, fumbling with the ties on his sweats before loosing them enough to slide under. He went slowly, ready to stop if she even squeaked. But instead, her hips moved, undulating, searching for something as her pleasure grew. He found the tiny band of her panties, and slipping under silk and lace, felt the crisp hair at her groin tickle his fingers. She whimpered and he stopped moving, wishing he dared to look at her face, but afraid to stop what he was doing, afraid she would come to her senses and stop him. If she stopped him now, she might never let him touch her again. “Please,” she moaned, lost in the sensations he was creating, magical sensations she’d never known before. Her body felt on fire, the heat consuming her. Only Brandon could quench the heat with his hands and his mouth. Her head was on the pillow of the couch, she felt his hand at her groin, her legs opening with a will of their own, letting him in, letting him touch her there, where she’d known nothing but pain. Until now. His touch was like fire, stroking into her wetness, finding some part of her that had exquisite feelings soaring through her. She couldn’t breath, she couldn’t think, all she could do was feel. Her hands were in his hair, desperately fisting, her body writhing on his lap as he loved her into madness. It was madness, she thought as her entire body tightened―concentrated on that small area between her thighs. It broke over her like a blanket of stygian darkness, a wave of wet warmth shot through her creating blinding white sparkles of light against the blanket like the most perfect of night skies. Her breath caught in her throat, her eyes seemed to roll back into her head and she soared. It was the only word for it, the shuddering ride of heat kept her enthralled as she shivered and cried out on his lap, her thighs clenched tightly against his hand, her juices flooding into his palm. 46
Heaven In Her Eyes When it was done, when she could finally relax but for those tiny shudders that seemed to burst through her at odd moments, she was strangely not embarrassed. She opened her eyes, greeting his smug green gaze with a contented smile. “You really are the smartest and the bestest looking,” she said softly, making him laugh. He bent his head to kiss her, his mouth almost touching hers when he heard the door to his apartment open. Lifting his head, he glared at the tall blonde woman who stood in the doorway, her perfect brows arched at the scene in front of her. In her hand, she held the pizza he’d ordered. “Did I interrupt something?” she said, chuckling as Brandon pushed Shanna behind him to give her some shelter from the intruder’s prying eyes. “Rylie, I ought to kill you,” he growled.
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Chapter Five “Now, now, if you killed me, my estate would be out the twenty bucks this pizza cost me. Besides, you love me too much to kill me.” She stepped further into the apartment, shutting the door behind her. “I think I’d love you more on the other side of that door,” he growled. Rylie stood on tip-toe, staring around Brandon’s broad, naked shoulders. “I can bet you would, partner, but you know what they say, you don’t always get everything you want. Whose the new girl?” she asked, coming over to sit in the lounge chair, propping her feet up on the coffee table and snitching one of the glasses of wine. “You look familiar,” she mused, staring at Shanna over the top of the glass. “If you must know, this is Shanna Clinton,” Brandon said, exasperation in his voice. “Shanna, this pain in the ass is my partner, Special Agent Rylie Moore.” Shanna, with Brandon’s shirt buttoned almost to her throat peaked around his shoulder, holding out her hand to the tall, gorgeous agent. “How do you do, Agent Moore,” she said, falling back on her training as Jackson’s wife. “Oh, I do pretty well when I want to, but never with Brandon.” She reached out and shook Shanna’s hand staring at the familiar shaped face. “Wait, I know you. You’re Aaron Hunter’s little sister, the one who got kidnapped. Oh this is rich, does Hunt know you’re here with Bran?” “Uh…” Shanna stared at Brandon, not sure what to say. “Not yet, Rylie, and if he hears it from anyone but me…” Brandon left the sentence unfinished, knowing Rylie caught the drift of his meaning.
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Heaven In Her Eyes “Hey, mum’s the word. Besides, I don’t think he’d believe it if I told him.” She settled back in the chair, sipping the wine while Brandon glared at her. “Is there a reason you’re here? Not that I don’t enjoy your company, Rye, but I’m a little bit too busy for polite socializing right at the moment.” Brandon reached out, taking the glass of wine out of her hand and finishing it in one gulp. His body still burned from holding Shanna, he could smell her on his body, on the hand that had touched her so intimately. He didn’t want her becoming embarrassed by what had happened between them, because of his partner’s sometimes blunt commentary. Shanna, on the other hand, while embarrassed, couldn’t stop looking at Rylie. Tall, with long blonde curls that fell artfully down her back, the woman had curves in all the right places. A black leather blazer covered pale blue satin. The blouse was buttoned down the front, left unbuttoned enough to expose the tops of perfect breasts and a deep cleavage. The satin was tucked into denim, black jeans that hugged her slender hips and long thighs with a slight flare at the bottom of the legs. She wore black boots with a good three-inch heel, something that amazed Shanna for the woman had to be at least five feet eight inches tall without them. With them, she approached Amazon in height and Greek Goddess in looks. “Well, I was at the office,” Rylie said, leaning forward to pick up the other glass of wine. She took a sip, savoring the flavor before continuing. “Some guy from the San Antonio PD called.” She reached into her pocket, knowing the delay would irritate Brandon. She knew every word of the report they’d given her, could have repeated it back to them verbatim, but she liked needling Brandon this way. It kept him from becoming too stuffy. “Rylie…” Brandon growled, making her chuckle. “Oh quit the junkyard dog routine, Brandon. I’ve known your bite and it ain’t that scary.” She pulled the paper out. It was her grocery list but he didn’t need to know that. “Let me see,” she said, quickly pulling it out of his reach. “Oh yeah,” she folded the list and stuffed it back in her pocket before continuing. “The dagger was ambiguous at best, no prints and they are still trying to track down the model and the store it came from. I’m betting they’ll find it’s a pretty popular style and was probably paid for with cash, if they find it at all. The semen stains are being run through CODIS right now, but so far there’s no match. They are still 49
Wendy Stone dusting the rest of her place for prints, but with the condition it was in, well…” “Yeah, did they do a HTH?” “No one saw a thing,” she answered. “The house to house was a flop. Most of her neighbors are working during the day and those that didn’t, well, they had their noses buried in the television. Maury was on, you know.” Brandon heaved a disgusted sigh. “Okay, thanks for bringing the report by, Rye, but next time use the phone.” “And give up the chance to see my favorite partner, I don’t think so,” she chuckled. “Eat your pizza before it gets cold. Consider it my treat. Shanna?” She leaned forward, peering around Brandon’s shoulder and offering her long, manicured fingers. “It’s been a pleasure. Your brother, well, I used to have a case of the hots for him before he hooked up with his wife. They make a lovely couple.” “Thank you,” Shanna said, drawn to the beautiful woman despite herself. “They are wonderful together.” Rylie got up, stretching her long lithe frame. Then she turned and headed towards the door, her walk like that of a predator—sleek strides, loose limbed, sexy as hell. She turned and waved at them as she walked out the door, locking it behind her. Brandon sat back against the couch, his eyes darting to Shanna. “I’m so sorry about that. I gave her my key just in case, like I have hers.” “It’s okay, Brandon. She’s beautiful.” Shanna couldn’t help the wistful sigh that escaped her lips. What she wouldn’t give for some of that height. “You’re beautiful,” Brandon said, turning to face her, grabbing her chin gently when she went to shake her head. “Don’t argue with what I see, Shanna. Girls like Rylie are all over. Go to Hollywood, you’ll see them on every street trying to make it big. But you—what you have is ethereal, it’s goodness and gentleness, it’s a beauty that shines through you.” She stared into his eyes, seeing the burning intensity as he spoke such lovely words to her. “Are you sure you’re not just trying to get into my pants?” she whispered. He blinked, surprised by her words, finally throwing back his head and laughing. Grabbing her in his arms, he held her tight while he laughed, rocking with her. When she wrapped her arms around him, he 50
Heaven In Her Eyes could have shouted in triumph. “You’re something else, you know that?” “She’s the company you had in the hospital when I went to visit you, Brandon. I thought maybe…well, you and her…were a…a couple.” “Me and Rylie?” He laughed again. “She’d chew me up and spit me out like she does all the guys she dates. I once accused her of being part praying mantis, tearing the head off her men before having sex with them.” “You’ve never thought about it?” She disentangled herself from him, going to his kitchen, grabbing a couple of plates, and tearing off two paper towels from the roll by the sink. Grabbing the pizza box, she brought it over to him. “Thought about dating Rylie, hmm, well maybe for about two seconds, before she actually opened her mouth. That was all it took for me to know we’d never survive it.” Brandon took the box, opening it to show steam still coming from the top of the melted cheese. “She’s a good friend and a fantastic partner. If not for her, I’d probably have bled to death on the street that night.” “So she saved your life?” Shanna asked, taking the plate he gave her and picking up a piece of cheese that had turned into one long gooey string. She twirled it on her finger before putting it in her mouth. Brandon’s eyes narrowed as he watched her sucking the cheese off her finger, the way her lips pursed around her skin, the look in her eyes as she got her first taste of the cheese. It was pure erotic magic and had him hard and to the point of begging almost instantly. “God, Shanna, honey, don’t do that,” he pleaded, reaching out to pull her finger from her mouth. She blushed, never thinking what she had done could be considered sexually enticing. Jackson had never once found her attractive, he used her to ‘take the edge off’’ as he put it. “I’m sorry,” she said, dropping her eyes to her plate. “Don’t be,” Brandon said, lifting her hand to his mouth. He kissed her fingers before taking her finger, still wet from her own mouth into his own. He sucked the rest of the cheese off before nibbling on the soft pad of her finger, watching her eyes as they grew heavy lidded and her breathing grew ragged. “I don’t know how you could ever have thought you were cold or frigid, Shanna. I barely touch you and you go up in flames.” 51
Wendy Stone Bitterness seeped into her amber gaze. “I guess it comes from being trained by Jackson.” She took her hand out of his grasp, using it to pick at a piece of pepperoni, tearing it into shreds. “He had his own way of indoctrinating women.” “Yeah, well, we’ve already discovered the man is a slime ball.” He picked up his pizza, taking a bite. “Eat, sweetheart, we’ll worry about things after you’ve gotten down at least two pieces. Oh and yes, Rylie saved my life. She got a commendation and a medal for the job she did out there on the streets after I went down.” “Where was she when you were shot?” “Slugging it out, from what she tells me. It’s a little hazy in some places. I remember the girl, I remember seeing the gun, and pulling my own.” It came back to him as if he were still in that alley. He could even see himself, his gun out, held steady in both hands. He’d tried to talk her down, tried to tell her he didn’t want to hurt her, only to help. But he could see the crazy look in her eyes. For one instant, right before she pulled the trigger, everything was so clear, so sharp it was almost painful. Then the gun belched its projectile, and he pulled his own trigger, knowing he was too late. He’d aimed for the shoulder and he knew his aim was true. Even as he felt the bullet plow into him, he saw her jerk, the gun tumbling from her hand. Then Rylie was there, pulling open his shirt, using her own to staunch the flow of blood even as she yelled into her phone. He would have bled out on the street if it weren’t for her. He could still remember the pain from the pressure she’d exerted, feeling as if he couldn’t breathe from the collapsed lung, feeling as if he were drowning. He owed her a lot. “I’d have done the same for her.” He watched as she ate the last bite of the second piece of pizza, smiling as she picked up her refilled glass of wine and took a sip. “More?” “Oh no,” she groaned. “It was good though, different place from before?” “Yeah, new place just moved in down the block. They are definitely better than the other one I used to use.” He waited a moment, reaching out to take a crumb from her chin. “Do you feel like talking now?” Shanna sighed, glancing up into his green eyes. “I vowed when I got away from him I would put it all behind me; all the fear, all the doubt in 52
Heaven In Her Eyes myself, everything he’d ever made me feel, I would never feel again. Pretty stupid, huh? Who would think that you can ever completely divorce yourself from the darker emotions?” “If it weren’t for the darker ones, we wouldn’t understand things like love and beauty,” he said softly, setting his plate on top of hers and leaning back on the sofa. Shanna stared at him for a moment, admiring the beauty of the long lines of his body, the chiseled perfection of his form marred by the bullet scar on his chest. It gave him the look of a warrior at rest, his body lax but ever ready for battle, sent a shiver of longing down her spine. “Are you cold?” he asked, mistaking her shiver. He held his arms out, the invitation unmistakable. “Are you sure we’re not going to hear from more of your partners?” she joked, settling against him, her hand resting comfortable on his leg even as he wrapped her in his arms. “I could shoot the next person who comes in that door if you want?” he murmured, leaning down to gently kiss her upturned lips. “No, too messy.” “So true,” he said, grabbing the throw from behind him on the sofa and spreading it over the two of them. He shifted until he was almost lying down, Shanna on top of him, her head resting against his shoulder. Her legs were tangled in his and he could smell the flowery scent of her shampoo. “How did you meet Jackson?” he asked softly. “Aaron’s football game, he was in his first year of college and he invited me to come up to see the game. Jackson was on his last year of law, and he saw me standing off by myself. He came over and started talking to me.” She sighed, tracing the line of hair that was on his chest. “He was handsome and funny and he made me feel important. He made me feel smart. Living with two older brothers, both of whom are so overly protective I couldn’t breathe without asking permission, being with Jackson was just so freeing.” “How old were you?” “I’d just turned seventeen and thought I knew what I wanted in life. While other girls in my grade were talking about college and careers, I only wanted marriage and babies. I guess I’m a throwback to the fifties,” she said laughing. “Can you see me as Donna Reed?” Brandon almost moaned. He couldn’t picture her in sweaters and pearls, with her hair perfectly coiffed fixing dinner, but he could see her 53
Wendy Stone with a baby nursing at her breast, a smile of welcome on her face as he walked in the room. That picture he could see very clearly. “So Jackson offered marriage and your brothers gave you a big wedding?” he asked, trying to dispel the sight of her with his child at her breast. “No! God, Dillon hates Jackson, so does Aaron. They both hated him instantly. I guess I should have listened, but I was so tired of always being told what to do. I thought they were being mean and hateful and wanted to keep me at home so I could always do their cooking and cleaning. I said some pretty rotten things to the both of them and then I wouldn’t speak to them. They thought they only needed to give me some time to see around to their way of thinking. But I ran away.” “You eloped? I don’t know why, somehow I had in mind this huge wedding with Dillon giving you away and Aaron looking uncomfortable in a monkey suit.” “Aaron looks good in a tux, and so do you,” she said, lifting her head and looking up at him. “You looked fantastic as his best man when he and Angel got married.” He dropped a quick kiss on her lips, wishing he dared linger for more, but he had her talking and didn’t want her to stop. “Thanks, you make a beautiful, blushing bride’s maid,” he said, laughing when she blushed again. “The bride’s maids don’t blush, silly, the bride does.” “Yeah, tell that to your cheeks, they were rosy that night. I could barely keep my eyes off of you. So where did you and Jackson honeymoon? Jamaica, Tahiti?” “No,” she said, her eyes turning dark. “He got a motel room in this little dive not far from where we’d said our vows. It had a band playing in the lounge, I remember that I could hear them from our room. Jackson, he…he,” she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “He didn’t even let me change into the fancy nightgown I’d bought for him. He just started ripping at my clothes. He tore off my wedding gown like it was some cheap dress, not caring when I told him he was hurting me. He…he…” she dropped her head back to his chest, unable to finish, unable to face the nightmare of a memory, not after what they’d just shared. “When he’d finished, he went down to the lounge to pick up a ‘real woman’ he said. He wanted one that wouldn’t whine or cry while he was f…fucking her.” 54
Heaven In Her Eyes Brandon continued stroking his hand down her back, desperately trying to not let her see the rage building inside of him. No wonder she was terrified of sex. To be a woman and to be raped was more terrible than any woman should have happen. But to be a virgin, to lose your virginity to your husband and have him rape you, that was a betrayal of the most violent kind. “Why didn’t you leave?” he asked her softly. “I couldn’t face Dillon or Aaron after that.” She snorted softly, her laughter bitter. “Jackson expected me to run home to my brothers too. His face when he came back and I was still in the room, it was priceless. I guess he decided he’d keep me then. Maybe he thought he could train me like some dog to do the things that he needed doing. He was going to make me into a political wife.” “Is that what he did?” Shanna was desperately thankful for his calm tone of voice, for the soft way he spoke as he asked her the questions. She didn’t know how she would have handled it if he’d lost control, flying up in rage and asking her how she could be so stupid as to stay with a man who had raped her. She’d asked herself that same question so many times, and each time, she’d never really had an answer. She could have said she was afraid of what her brothers would have said, but who wouldn’t be more afraid of rape? “He tried. When I didn’t do as he wanted,” she paused, closing her eyes again. “Well, you’ve seen the scars. He had some cruel punishments for failure.” “What made you finally leave?” Shanna cringed, seeing those three men in her mind’s eye once more, feeling their hands on her body, their cruel and punishing fingers grasping and poking, before she slammed the door in her mind shut again. “I…I just couldn’t take it another day,” she said quickly. Brandon heard the lie in her voice, but he didn’t call her on it. She would tell him the rest when she was ready. Honestly, he didn’t know how much more he could take. He wanted to get up, find Jackson Clinton, and beat the holy hell out of him. He knew his body was tense under hers and he forced himself to take some deep breaths to calm down. “Do you want to call Hunter, let him know you’re here?” he asked her, reaching for his cell phone which was sitting on the coffee table. 55
Wendy Stone “I guess I should.” She looked at the phone he held out. “W…would you do it? If I do, he’ll try to talk me into coming and staying with him and Angel.” “You want to stay with me?” he asked, amazed at how much her answer meant to him. “Yes, if you don’t mind me being here.” Her eyes met his and she watched the smile that turned up the corners of his firm mouth. “You can stay as long as you’d like, Shanna. Besides, this will give us an early start to the range tomorrow morning. We can get you in some practice.” He hit the speed dial number for Hunter and spoke into the phone for a moment. “No, she’s fine, but they destroyed her place. Yeah, she’s fine here, neither of us thinks it’s a good idea for her to be there, not with Angel so far along. I’ll keep an eye on her, Hunt, you know that.” He paused, listening to his friend for a moment, his green eyes sparkling. “Yeah, you’ll owe me a big one,” he said, changing his tone of voice to one of someone being horribly harassed. Shanna narrowed her eyes at him, making him chuckle and put his hand over the phone, disguising his laughter by coughing. “I’ll have her call you in the morning. I’m taking her out to teach her how to shoot. I don’t think it’s a bad idea for her to be able to protect herself.” He said good-bye and flipped the phone closed, laughing so hard, she bounced against him. “Oh come on,” he said, holding on to her when she tried to get up. “You know he’d have found it suspicious if I didn’t make it sound like you were a pain in my ass.” “Yeah, but you didn’t have to make it sound like I was that big a pain in the ass.” She sat on the couch, her lip out, pouting. “I’m sorry, Shan,” he said, trying hard not to laugh. “Here,” he handed her the remote. “You choose what we watch on television.” “Oh wow,” she breathed, taking the remote like it was a sacred sword. “I get the remote? You really must feel bad.” He leaned down, kissing her softly, unable to help himself. “No, but it got you to quit pouting,” he whispered before kissing her again. Shanna smacked him, before reaching up and drawing him back down to her lips. The remote slipped out of her hand, landing on the couch.
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Heaven In Her Eyes Her lips were soft and welcoming, parting beneath the pressure of his with a heady groan. She teased his tongue with her own, drawing him into her wet mouth and sucking gently. He played with her lips, teased her with soft touches and tender rubbing, tasting her mouth. He kissed her until his body felt tight with need, his cock throbbing in his jeans, his hands going to the buttons on the front of the shirt she still wore. He unbuttoned it quickly, one button coming off in his rush to fill his hands with the softness of her breasts. He lifted their heavy weight in his palms, cupping them, feeling the hardness of her nipples against his fingers. They were perfect, round and full, sitting high on her chest, her nipples pale tips in their centers. “I’ve never seen anything so beautiful,” he moaned, his eyes moving over her slender form. “I can’t believe any man wouldn’t treat you like a goddess.” Shanna, her cheeks pink with her blushes, let her hands trace over his chest, closing her eyes so that she couldn’t see him staring at her. “I’m not beautiful,” she whispered. “I’m not even close.” He lifted her chin. “Open your eyes, Shanna. Come with me,” he said, holding his hand out to her. She took it, following him into his bedroom. His cats lay on the bed, giving them baleful looks when he turned on the lights before jumping from the bed and hurrying out of the room. He shut the door behind them, turning to her. Taking her shoulders in his hands, he stared into her face. “Do you trust me?” “Why?” she asked suspiciously, her hands fisting the shirt closed in front of her. “Don’t ask questions,” he ordered. “Just answer me, do you trust me?” “Y…yes, but if you’re going to want me to eat anything funny, I’m going to call my brother.” He gave a surprised bark of laughter, hugging her to him quickly. “I promise, you don’t have to eat anything.” He took her hands, slowly uncurling her unresisting fingers and letting the shirt drape open. Pushing it off her shoulders, he saw her take a deep breath, letting it out in an uncomfortable sigh. “It’s okay, Shanna,” he reassured her, turning her and putting his hands on her shoulders to hold her in front of him. “Oh God,” she hissed, staring at the old-fashioned stand mirror in front of her, her hands coming up to cover her breasts, as if hiding them from herself. 57
Wendy Stone “Shh,” he whispered, bending his head so he spoke softly in her ear. “You don’t know how beautiful you are, I want you to see you like I do.” He put his hands over hers, slowly dragging her hands down her body to hang limply at her sides. “You have the most sensual hair, Shanna,” he said, still speaking softly, letting his cheek rub against the softness of her hair. “Do you know how much men love long hair? Especially like yours, it’s so thick and almost seems to have a life of its own. It makes me wonder how it would feel wrapped around me, draped over me, against my naked skin.” He lifted handfuls, letting it run out of his hands like water. “Your skin is perfect,” he whispered, his fingers coming up to trace across her cheeks, feeling the heat of her blush. “Creamy silk,” he moaned. The back of his hand tracing down her throat and across her collar-bone, then barely brushing the hardened tip of her nipple. “Amber,” he breathed, looking into her eyes and seeing her looking back at him. “That’s what color your eyes are. Nothing so blasé as brown for you. I couldn’t believe it the first time I saw you, I thought the sun was playing tricks. I didn’t know anyone’s eyes could be such a beautiful color.” He traced his fingers gently over her lips, feeling them part, her tongue coming out to slick moisture across them. “Lush, full, beautiful lips,” he whispered. “Made for kissing, made for kissing me,” he groaned, turning her head for just an instant and letting his lips play across hers. When he looked back into the mirror, his chest was heaving, his breath coming in harsh pants that matched hers. “Whenever I look at your lips, I think about how it feels to kiss you. Then I just want to lose myself in you, Shanna.” He dropped his forehead to her shoulder, his hands sliding down her arms to rest against the deep curve of her waist. Her hands came up, covering his, twining her fingers through his as she leaned back, resting against his chest, unbelievable aroused by the things he was saying and doing. When he lifted his head, his eyes were blazing with passionate need, but he had control of himself again, even though his nostrils still flared. “You’re so tiny; I worry about hurting you with my hands, bruising your tender skin. But I know inside, you had to be so tough to take what you have and find the strength to walk away, to not let that bastard break you. As much as I find to admire about your beautiful body, Shanna, I 58
Heaven In Her Eyes admire your spirit more. You have more determination, more strength and more plain guts than any woman I know.” Shanna felt the tears welling in her eyes, felt one slip down her cheek. “Really?” she whispered, staring at him in the mirror. “You really feel that way?” He nodded. “The scars don’t matter, Shanna. I don’t really even see them when I look at you.” She stared at the scars on her breasts, the bite marks and the marks from Jackson’s nails. They were always so noticeable to her, how could he not see them as she did? “T…they don’t turn you off?” “Do you trust me?” he asked her again. She nodded her head. “Yes.” He lifted her hand, cupping his around it and brought it between their bodies. Gently placing her palm on the proof of his arousal, he almost groaned when her fingers tightened around it instinctively. “Does that feel like I’m turned off?” he moaned, fighting the urge to press himself harder against her sweet palm. Her face flaming, she shook her head no, staring down at her feet. But she left her hand there even when he removed his, tracing the long bulge. “Don’t look down, baby,” he groaned. “I’m not embarrassed about wanting you. I’ve wanted you for a long time now, I think since the first time I saw you when you came knocking on my door looking so unsure of yourself.” “I…I don’t know if I’m r…ready for sex,” she whispered, her eyes huge. “How about some more kissing?” he asked, smiling. He turned and went to the bed, yanking the comforter and sheet down. Lying back against the pillows, he wiggled his fingers at her, urging her to come to him. For a moment, she let her eyes wander over him taking in the picture he made, his eyes alight, his lips smiling at her. He looked almost decadent lying there in just his jeans and socks, his chest bare, the wide muscled plains there for her to touch. She went to him, taking his hand when he offered it, letting him pull her down on the bed. “This isn’t fair to you,” she whispered, her hand sliding across his chest, feeling the horrible scar.
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Wendy Stone “This is more wonderful than I thought possible,” he insisted, letting his lips claim hers by degrees. “And when you’re ready for more, I’ll be right here.”
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Chapter Six She fell asleep in his arms, clad only in the plain white panties she’d put on that morning. Brandon held her, feeling her breath whisper softly against his skin, her sweet body resting so trustingly against him. He prayed he would never do anything to break that trust. “I think I’m falling for you, Shanna,” he whispered, his fingers trailing across her cheek to push one long strand of hair from off of her face. She murmured in her sleep, snuggling closer to him, her hand sliding down over his stomach to rest against the waistband of his jeans. Her naked breasts pressed into his side, rousing the hunger that was never far from the surface when she was near him. He forced himself to stay still, to relax and finally, he fell asleep. **** The dream when it came this time was different. It was more vivid, more real. He was in a place he knew, his apartment, sitting in his living room. He had the television on, watching one of the dreaded soap operas. Then he heard the noise. At first, he thought it was one of his cats, but then it came again, louder. It sounded like a thump but he swore he heard a cry, like someone being hurt but muffling their pain against the palms of their hands. Getting up, he reached for his pistol, so conveniently left on his coffee table. He crept towards his bedroom door, feeling as if it were miles away instead of just a few feet. “Stop!” 61
Wendy Stone He heard the cry and then another shrill shriek followed by what sounded like a slap. He knew that voice. It was Shanna. Had her husband somehow managed to sneak in when he’d been watching television? He gripped his pistol, the muzzle pointed towards the floor as he quickly but silently crept the last few feet to the door. It was cracked, the light showing into the darkened living room. He turned and looked back at the television, it was still on, the characters of the soap opera watching after him. The young girl with the white blonde hair that fell so silkily around her shooed her hands at him, whispering loudly. “Go! You’ve got to save her!” The tall, handsome man with the British accent who’d been fighting with her, laughed. “Or he could just open the door and watch the show,” he said to the girl, starting off another round of battle between the two. He heard the girl say, “Elvis, you’re a pig,” before he pushed open the door, widening the crack until light spilled over him. The bedroom was torn apart as if a huge fight had taken place. The lamps were broken, cracked pottery on the floor. His bookcase was knocked over books flung everywhere as if someone had used them as weapons, flinging them. The dresser was knocked away from the wall, the mirror where he’d tried to show Shanna how beautiful she was, was on the floor also, shiny shards of broken mirror glittering lethally on the rug. The comforter was dragged to the floor, the sheets twisted and tangled, and on top of them, kicking and fighting under the naked body of a man was Shanna. Her legs were parted, her attacker sawing away at her exposed sex with his rampant cock, banging into her so hard that every thrust shook the bed, slamming the headboard against the wall. He was shocked numb by what he was seeing, unable to move for a second as he watched the man dig his fingers into Shanna’s soft flesh, cruelly twisting, leaving bruises to mar her soft skin. She screamed in pain, the sound freeing him from his shock and he hurried over to the bed, his gun coming up to press against the side of the man’s head. “Get off of her asshole,” he growled, wanting to kill the man with his bare hands. It seemed as if a spotlight had been put upon the three of them, leaving the rest of the room in nothing but shadows. The man, his head lifting slowly, grinned as he stared up at Brandon. “You really don’t want me to stop, do you?” he said in a voice Brandon knew so well. 62
Heaven In Her Eyes It was his own, staring at him was himself, raping Shanna violently, abusing her. The gun dropped out of his hand, falling to the floor, he stumbled back, tripping and hitting the floor too, the back of his hand coming to his mouth as he felt his gorge rising. **** Brandon awoke with a start, sitting up in bed, staring around the room, his eyes huge. The light was still on and he could see how normal the room looked. “Brandon?” Shanna’s sleepy voice called and she reached over, touching his chest. “Are you okay?” It had been nothing more than a dream. He fell back on the bed, slowly letting out the breath he hadn’t been aware he’d been holding. “Yeah, just a nightmare, baby,” he whispered, rolling on his side to gather her against him, holding her gently as if she were infinitely priceless. “It was just a nightmare,” he repeated softly as if trying to convince himself. “Oh,” she murmured, snuggling back into his chest, liking the way he felt behind her, his arms around her. He made her feel so safe, so relaxed. “Do you want to talk about it?” His head was shaking before he could even get the words out. “No, definitely not.” She rolled to her back, her head cradled against his bicep, her hair brushing his chest. Looking up at him, she frowned at the note in his voice. “It was bad, wasn’t it?” “Yes… no, I don’t know,” he growled, closing his eyes in frustration. “Can we drop it, Shanna? It was just a damn dream.” He felt her stiffen, felt her move slightly away from him and instantly gathered her back into his arms. “I’m sorry. Please understand, I’ve been having some nightmares recently. They make no sense and wake me up. It’s nothing. Don’t get huffy, please?” he wheedled, kissing her softly. Shanna had never had someone worried about her moods before, or whether she was mad or upset. It was a heady feeling and one she was certain she could learn to enjoy. “Hmm,” she said. “What’ll you give me?” she teased. Brandon chuckled, enjoying how she turned his words back on him. “I don’t know, what do you want?” “Well, I could say breakfast in bed, but that’s too easy.” 63
Wendy Stone “Good,” Brandon breathed a sigh of relief. “My cooking skills suck.” “Then it’s definitely not breakfast in bed. How about a back rub?” The thought of his magical hands on her back had her body humming. He cracked his fingers making her laugh. “I didn’t mean right now,” she said on a yawn. She glanced over at the clock. “It’s two a.m. Brandon.” “But I woke you up, the least I can do is make sure you’re relaxed enough to go back to sleep,” he wiggled his eyebrows at her and she laughed. “Where do you want me?” she said, adding some fake resignation to her voice. “Well, you lay there and I’ll…” He sat up, his hands reaching for her breasts, stroking over her skin, pulling gently on her taut nipples. “Oh wait, you said back rub didn’t you?” “Anything to cop a feel, huh?” She laughed, though there was a slight shiver in her voice from his hands and the sensations coursing through her system. She rolled to her stomach and he rose over her, straddling her. She could feel the rough material of his jeans against her hips and sides. He leaned over, kissing her cheek and whispering in her ear. “Hey, what can I say? Being a cop is what I do best.” Shanna groaned at his bad pun and then groaned again as his calloused fingers dug into the muscles of her shoulders and neck. She hadn’t realized just how tight they had been until he went to work on them, easing her into relaxing, stroking over her skin with a skill she didn’t want to know where he’d acquired. He took his time, gorging himself on the feel of her under him, relaxed, easy with the way his hands felt on her skin. It was almost sinful, how good it felt to him to know that she trusted him enough to let him do this for her. Every moan that came from her mouth, every sigh that she breathed was a balm to his soul. She was opening up to him, letting him in that battered and bruised organ that she called a heart and she was healing too. Unable to resist, he leaned down and tasted the soft skin of her nape, enjoying the small shiver she gave at the feel of his lips. “That feels so good, Brandon,” she whispered, afraid to speak too loudly, afraid he might stop. 64
Heaven In Her Eyes “I learned from the best,” he said. He worked down her spine, careful to not dig in too deep and hurt her. “My mom’s a massage therapist, she gave me lessons because sometimes it was the only way to control my mom’s pain. She had fibromyalgia and it got steadily worse before she died.” “Fibro…what?” Shanna flipped her hair over her neck turning her head to look up at him. “Fibromyalgia. It’s kind of hard to explain. No one knows the real reason people get it or how they get it. Mom’s caused insomnia, muscle pain and cramps. She went with little sleep for days and then I’d hear her in her room, pacing because the pain was so bad. I took her to the doctor and he diagnosed her then sent her to the massage therapist, Gina. I don’t know what we’d have done without her. She showed me what to do to keep mom’s pain level at a bearable point and the medication did the rest.” He slid his hands back up her spine, sinking his fingers into her hair. “It sounds terrible,” she said quietly, enjoying the way he seemed preoccupied with her hair, as he stroked his hands through it. He slid his fingers over her scalp, rubbing gently, stroking from her temples to the back of her neck slowly. “It was, but in a way, mom’s illness brought us closer together. I was a typical disrespectful teenager. My father was constantly away for work and when he was home, he did little more than yell at me. Mom’s illness brought the family back together, I even learned how to get along with my father.” “Where is he now?” she asked quietly, rubbing her head against his hand like one of his cats would. “They were on their way home from a second honeymoon. I was a senior in college, had my heart set on going into the FBI. Mom and dad were onboard a flight coming back from Ireland. It was hijacked by terrorists, and they killed my father when he tried to prevent them from raping a pregnant woman. Mom’s heart was weakened by her disease and she had a heart attack only minutes later.” He took a deep breath, the memory of the phone call telling him of their deaths and those long days afterwards still too painful to think of lightly. “Brandon, I’m sorry,” Shanna said softly, lifting up and feeling him move off of her and lie at her side once more. She turned, still laying on her stomach, and lifted her hand to his face. “It must have been terrible.”
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Wendy Stone He nodded, not trusting his voice for a moment. Finally, he smiled at her. “Now you know all my secrets,” he joked. “Does this mean I have to kill you to ensure your silence?” She put the back of her hand to her forehead, and faked a look of fear. “Oh no, Mr. Spy, sir, I promise you I won’t tell. Please, let me keep my pitiful excuse for a life,” she said in a high falsetto voice. He twirled his fake mustache again. “Maybe, my dear,” he said in a deep, evil sounding voice. “But if I can’t have your life, perhaps I should take your virtue instead.” He pounced at her, grabbing her round the waist and tickling her. Shanna struggled for a minute then changed tactics suddenly and in a way that got Brandon’s attention immediately. Her lips found his, her mouth opening and her tongue sliding in to taste and tease. He groaned, growling sexily, his fingers going to her back to pull her against him. His hand slid down her back, across her tiny waist and the rounded curves of her hips, pulling her even tighter against his raging erection, as it throbbed with need inside the rough material of his jeans. He tried to pull her under him, but she resisted, instead pushing him back, crawling across his body until she was on top of him. Using her hands and her mouth, she began a long, slow seduction that took away his breath and left him strung like a bow under her, putty in her soft little hands. When her mouth moved from his, going to his jaw to nibble at the whisker covered skin, he held his breath, anxiously wondering how far she would go, loving the fact she felt safe enough with him to explore if she wanted. Her lips slipped to his throat, her tongue coming out to taste the warm salty tang of his skin, moaning at his heat and sending shivers through him. Then further, across the hard plains of his chest, licking and sucking on his hard male nipples, teasing them with little flicks of her tongue. She teased them, suckling on them softly until his body shook with the effort he was putting into his restraint. His hands were fisted at his sides, the muscles in his arms straining with the need to grab her. He sucked in his stomach when he felt the first fluttering tease of her lips against his skin, groaning as she used her tongue and her teeth on the taut flesh. Dipping her head, she played havoc with the small hollow of his belly button, nipping at the hard flesh with her teeth. Brandon groaned at the tiny stinging pain that seemed to send him soaring further into the haze of passion she was creating. Every touch, 66
Heaven In Her Eyes every kiss, every little bite strung him further until he felt as if he were on some medieval torture rack, laid out for her delight and his torment. His cock was so hard, it ached, his balls felt as if they were going to burst and for a minute, he wondered if a man could die from blue balls. Then he felt her small hands on the button of his jeans and it felt as if his whole world halted. Even his heart felt as if it had stopped, waiting to see what she would do. His entire being was concentrated on that small button and the hands that played with it. She pulled it free, her fingers stumbling over his zipper before finding the small tab and pulling on it also. His cock, encased in only the thin fabric of his shorts, tented out, a wet spot making the white material almost see through. “Shanna…” he groaned, feeling her hands on the waistband of his jeans, pulling them down. He lifted his butt, letting her strip them from his body, trying to force the words out of his mouth that his brain demanded he say, even when his body called him a fool. “You don’t have to…to do this,” he groaned. “Shh,” she whispered from where she was stripping his socks off his big feet. She crawled back up, kissing him quickly on his lips before sliding down, her breasts stroking erotically across his skin. “I want to do this,” she whispered, though he could hear a note of fear in her voice. She pulled on his shorts, yanking them down his legs, her eyes anywhere but on his groin. When she finally dared look, she gasped, surprised by the size of him. “You’re so big,” she whispered softly, her eyes growing huge. “Jackson wasn’t even half that size,” she said, almost as if speaking to herself. Brandon felt strangely shy, lying there in front of her, his assets in the wind, so to speak. He felt vulnerable in front of her eyes, afraid he might scare her, or that she might be feeling forced into this. He was afraid for her to continue, worried about what might happened after. But he was also afraid she would stop, his body was on fire for her, wanting more. She approached him slowly, going to her knees on the bed beside him. Hesitating, she reached out, her soft fingers wrapping gently around him, barely meeting around his girth. Brandon moaned, feeling the coolness of her palm and her fingers as she softly stroked the raging heat of his erection. It was exquisite torment, sweet pleasure that increased when she pushed her hair behind her ears, leant over him and licked her lips. 67
Wendy Stone When they touched the soft, spongy head of his cock, he couldn’t help the way his hips jerked toward her, wanting more, wanting deeper into that hot, wet haven of her mouth. He closed his eyes, unable to watch as she slowly took more of him in, sinking down on his cock until he was pressed against the back of her throat. He felt her gag and moaned as her throat closed around his cock. She stroked her mouth over him slowly, her tongue swirling around the head of his cock as she pulled back. He was hot and heavy on her tongue, the salty taste of his precum mixed with her saliva and she swallowed heavily. Brandon was afraid to touch her, afraid she would pull away, or that he would scare her. But his hands itched to bury themselves in her hair, to sweep the whole silky mass over his chest and stomach, to feel it against his body. Shanna reached down and cupped her hand over his balls, playing and squeezing with the soft sac, using her nails to tickle him gently. She’d thought she’d feel repulsed, or she would be afraid, but it was different. This was Brandon, the man who’d taken her so gently to the heights of pleasure earlier, who had shown her that her scars didn’t matter, who’d rescued her more than once. She didn’t feel repulsed, instead she felt her sex moisten and begin to throb, she felt her heart racing, not from fear, but from desire and need. Her breathing quickened, her eyes grew heavy, she wanted him. Brandon reached down, grabbing her hips in his strong hands, pulling her around until he could reach her. She crouched next to him, unsure of what he was planning, turning her head to look over her shoulder at him even as she continued her long strokes with her hand. “Trust me?” he asked in a husky voice. She nodded with no hesitation, making him smile though it was strained. Then she gasped as he slid his hands under the elastic band of her panties, sliding them slowly over her hips and down her creamy thighs. She lifted her legs and he pulled them down and off, holding them in his hand for a moment. They were warm from her body and he could tell they were slightly damp. The thought that sucking his cock had made her wet had him panting to taste her. He slid his fingers across her hips, slipping them between her thighs and delving deftly between her thick pink lips. He found her hot and wet, her flesh so sleek and slippery, it made him groan. Pulling 68
Heaven In Her Eyes her gently, he had her straddling his face, her knees on either side of his head. “Brandon?” she whispered, unsure of what he was doing, nervous because she’d never felt so exposed, not even when those men had raped her. “It’s okay, baby,” he said softly, breathing in the musky smell of her arousal. “You’re beautiful even here.” He grabbed her hips in his hands, pulling her gently but steadily down until he could reach out and taste her with his tongue. That first touch was electric, sending shocking waves of pleasure through her body. She jerked, her whole body jumping. Then he got serious, his tongue swiping through her wetness, seeking every pleasure spot she had, as he caressed her sleek folds with his mouth. He felt her gasp, then felt the wetness of her mouth around his cock once more. Every move she made drew him closer, every tiny gasp or soft moan reverberated around his sensitive flesh until he was moving under her, unable to stay still any more. His mouth found her clit, his tongue flicking at the hardened bud until she was doing some writhing of her own. Before he could do more, he felt the heated tingle, the pleasurable pressure that indicated the start of his climax. “Baby,” he groaned, tipping his head back. “I’m going to come.” He growled softly, trying to hold back. Instead of pulling her mouth off him as he’d thought she would, she sucked on him harder. Her mouth moving with purpose, her hand stroking the few inches of his cock she didn’t have in her mouth. She felt him swell, felt his cock twitch and knew he was going to come. The first salty spurt slid down her throat easily. The second followed quickly and she choked a little as she swallowed. She could hear his cries and feel his fingers tighten on her hips as he filled her mouth over and over. The last spurt was small, and she swallowed it down, sweeping her tongue over him and sucked his cock clean. He pushed her off him, turned over and climbed between her legs, his mouth dropping to the soft curls between her thighs, searching through them with his tongue, seeking her sweet slit. In moments, his incredible tongue had her whimpering, her hands delving into his hair, holding him to her. He took her clit in his mouth, his tongue flicking over it, his teeth biting gently. Carefully, he slipped one finger into her, feeling the 69
Wendy Stone muscles of her sex surround him, the heat and wetness welcoming him in. He could only imagine how she would feel around his cock and pray that he would find out soon. Shanna felt his finger invade her then begin a sensual thrusting that had her hips churning, rising up to meet his hand and his mouth. Heat suffused her body, waves of prickly sensation sent shivers through her body, as shudders racked her slender frame. Her cries echoed throughout the room, the muscles of her thighs stiffened and her toes curled. Her hands pushed him into her groin, almost suffocating him as the muscles of her sex spasmed around his finger. The sound of her orgasm had him hard and throbbing again and he longed to thrust himself into her, to feel the aftershocks of her pleasure clenching down around his cock. Instead, he tore himself free of her, lying on his back next to her, his hand reaching out and finding hers. “Oh, god,” she muttered huskily. “I’ve never felt anything like that before.” He smiled. “You’re welcome.” She narrowed her eyes, turning to look at him. She scooted closer feeling his arm coming around her to drag her against his body. “I’ll let you get away with the cocky attitude because you’re right, you were fantastic.” “I know,” he said, laughing when she reached out and smacked him lightly. He yawned and stretched, a sleek male animal exuding magnetism. “Come on,” she said, sitting up and holding out her hand. She forced him up, until his head was on the pillow and he reached over, turning out the light and held his arms out to her. She went into them with a sigh, settling her naked body next to his with no embarrassment at her actions. Instead, she snuggled up next to him, her nose buried in his neck, inhaling his scent. **** He was cuddled up behind her when she woke, his face buried in her hair, his arms around her, holding her to him. She woke smiling, feeling his warmth and hearing his light snoring in her ear. “Ready to go learn how to shoot?” he grumbled, his warm breath tickling her ear. 70
Heaven In Her Eyes Shanna made a face, she hadn’t thought he was serious about teaching her to shoot. “I guess,” she said. “I do have to work today.” “You can’t go to work,” Brandon said, sitting up and brushing a hand through his sleep mussed hair. He rubbed at his face, feeling the harsh bristle of his whiskers against his palm. “I have to go to work, Brandon. I have bills to pay and I have to buy new clothes now.” Her face paled a little as she thought of the mess in her apartment. “I can’t hide away forever.” “Shanna, be reasonable. Do you really think he’s done? Do you think he won’t try to come after you again?” He hated having to scare her but he wasn’t about to let Jackson get his claws into her again. “He won’t try at the bank again. Besides, we don’t know it was him for sure. It could just be a coincidence,” she said, knowing it wasn’t. “Shanna…” he growled, rubbing his face again. “Brandon,” she said, matching his tone. “I appreciate everything you’ve done. I do, I’ll even go and take the shooting lessons. But after that, I have to go into work. I have to make a living, Brandon.” Her eyes were soft as they looked at him, soft but determined and he knew he didn’t have a hope of making her agree. “Fine, but I take you, and I’ll be there to take you to lunch and to pick you up afterwards. No arguments. You’re staying with me until we find out for sure that you’re safe.” He wiggled his finger into her face, her eyes crossing as she stared at it, making him laugh. “Not funny, Shanna. Promise me you won’t go anywhere and you’ll stay where someone can see you all the time.” “Okay, oh great Gazoo,” she said, remembering how much he loved the Flintstones. “I promise. Happy?” “No, but it’s a start. Now come here and give me a kiss.”
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Chapter Seven Shanna got out of bed, wrapped the sheet around her, and headed for the bathroom. She turned to glance back at him, his body now bare to her eyes as he lay stretching against the mattress. Her mouth went dry, her eyes huge as her eyes traveled over his long, lean body and the thick ridge of his cock that was standing tall and hard under her gaze. “Sure you don’t want to come back to bed for an hour longer?” he growled, posing on the bed and lifting his hand to wiggle his fingers at her. “You are an evil man,” she said vehemently. “Satan, get thee behind me.” Brandon snorted, laughing as she made her escape. She walked into the bathroom, side stepping around the cat that curled around her ankles, meowing and thinking she was going to feed her. Reaching into the shower, she turned the handles, checked the temperature, dropped the sheet and stepped inside. The water was loud in the cubicle, the steam from the hot water rising around her like a cloud. She stepped under the shower head, letting her hair get soaked, even though she knew it would take forever to dry. She washed it carefully, turning her back to rinse the soap out while wishing she had an extra hand to help gather the thick mass. “Here,” Brandon said from right behind her, making her shriek. He chuckled as she turned, reaching out to smack him for scaring her. “Hey, I thought you heard me come in. Puss and Boots were making enough noise to wake the dead and I had to feed them.” “You are the only person I know who keeps cat food in the bathroom.” She turned back around, but not before letting her eyes run down his tanned and tasty body, seeing his cock still standing at full 72
Heaven In Her Eyes mast. She couldn’t help the shiver that went through her as she wondered what it would feel like inside of her. “You can’t be cold,” he said, crowding up behind her back, his hard cock slipping up to slide between the soft cheeks of her ass. He reached around her, filling his hands with her breasts, teasing the tips to hardness with subtle strokes of his fingers. “You’ve got it hot enough to fill a sauna in here.” “What are you doing to me?” she groaned, almost panting as his hand made a leisurely trek over her ribs and stomach. “I don’t like sex.” He laughed again. “Yes you do. You just didn’t like what your husband did to you. I don’t term that as sex. What we do together though,” he hummed. “That’s pure poetry.” “Poetry?” she giggled which turned into a groan as his hand slid between her thighs, his fingers gently parting her lower lips, delving into her wet heat. “How can you think you don’t like sex when you respond to me like this?” he moaned, reaching for her hand and bringing it down her body, pressing her fingers against her wet sex. “Feel how hot you are? How wet your body is? That’s desire, it’s want and it’s need, Shanna,” he growled in her ear. “There’s not a frigid bone in your body. I touch you and you go up in flames.” Shanna moaned, unable to think when he touched her, when he held her, when he spoke to her like that. She tore her hand out from under his, bringing it behind her back, running her nails up the length of his thigh. Her hips moved and she felt the heat of his erection against her back, rubbing against her. “I…I want you,” she whispered, barely able to form the words because of the sensations soaring through her. Brandon stopped. His body shifted and he turned her in his arms. “Say that again,” he ordered, staring down at her. Shanna dropped her head to his chest, unable to look at him. But he would have none of that. He lifted her chin with his hand, his eyes looking like green fire as they gazed down at her. “Tell me again.” “I want you,” she whispered, terror mixing with desire. “But I’m afraid.” “I won’t hurt you, Shanna. I thought you knew that.” “I do, I do know that,” she insisted, her amber eyes beseeching him to understand. “The last time I…did anything…Jackson made me…” Her voice trailed off and she closed her eyes, unable to face him when he 73
Wendy Stone heard how her husband had turned her into a whore. “He made me do…that with…with…” she couldn’t finish. “He made you do what? Have sex?” he asked her gently. “Yes,” she moaned, trying to turn away from him. “He was your husband,” Brandon said, his eyes narrowing in confusion. “That’s not something that’s going to shock me, Shanna. Unless you mean something else.” His hand tightened on her chin before dropping to her arm, holding her in place. “Did you mean something else, Shanna?” She nodded, miserable. He would turn from her as soon as he found out. He would look at her with all the disgust she felt for herself. How could he not? “I’m not a mind reader,” he said, his hand stroking over her cheek. “Just tell me and we’ll deal with it together.” She swallowed, her throat seeming to almost close up, to not want to allow her to get out the words that would explain to him why she feared sex so. “M…my h…husband used to m…make me wait up, to show his g…guests out when they left. T…The last night, he…he had three men there. I’d never seen them before. He…he called me into his study. I thought he wanted me to show them out. But…” His hand rose to her chin, lifting her face, his eyes blazing down into hers. “He forced you to have sex with them?” he asked, his voice harsh. She nodded, closing her eyes against the loathing she could see in his eyes. “I…I felt so dirty. I still do,” she said her body racked with sobbing. Brandon pulled her against him, holding her as she cried, her body shuddering against his. He held his anger in check, but barely. He now had a new reason to kill Jackson Clinton. He would make sure Shanna was safe, and then it would be time to go on the hunt. He wasn’t going to wait around anymore. “It’s okay, baby,” he crooned. His hands stroked softly down her back. “It’s in the past. It’s done. Shh…Shanna.” “Y…you don’t think I…I’m d…disgusting?” she asked him, looking up through red rimmed eyes. “I think you are a beautiful, desirable and loveable woman, who’s been through a terrible ordeal and had the strength to pull yourself out the other side.” He kissed her gently. “And when you’re ready, I want to make love to you.” “Really?” she said, wiping the tears off her cheeks with her hands. 74
Heaven In Her Eyes “Definitely.” He kissed her softly, his hands coming up to cradle her face in his palms. “Now let’s get cleaned up before the manager of the building calls me up to bitch about my hot water usage again.” Shanna watched him as he ducked his head back into the hot water, poured a handful of shampoo onto his hair and scrubbed it. Soapy bubbles fell onto his shoulders and back and she couldn’t help but reach out, tracing her fingers through them. With a small smile, she traced an S and a C in the suds, then rubbed over the C and inserted an H. “What are you doing?” Brandon asked, glancing over his shoulder at her. “Branding you,” she answered with a chuckle. “Oh yeah,” he turned, grabbing her around the waist, his mouth latching onto her shoulder, suckling and biting gently. When he lifted his head, there was a mouth shaped red mark that would turn into a nicely made hickey. “Now you’re branded too.” She shuddered at the feel of his mouth against her skin, her eyes going languid with desire as she looked up at him. “If you keep looking at me like that, you aren’t going to be going to work today, Shanna,” he growled, his body reacting predictably to her. His cock felt like it was never going to go down, his heart raced and he thought he’d go up in flames if she looked at him like that again. For just a moment, she considered dropping to her knees in front of him, taking the huge proof of his desire for her into her hands, slipping the head inside of her mouth and cherishing it with her tongue. But he was right, if she didn’t get out of the shower now, there was no way she would be at work on time. With a sigh, she turned, blowing him a kiss as she stepped out onto the bathmat and pulled one of his thick towels around her. Another went to her hair, wrapping it tightly to get out as much of the water as she could before she braided the long fall into one tail down her back. Brandon was out of the shower shortly, reaching for her. “I can’t seem to keep my hands off you,” he growled. Then his mouth was on hers, and what started as a gentle kiss turned heated. When he finally lifted his head, he dropped his forehead down against hers, his breathing heavy. “That was supposed to just say good morning.” “Really?” she smirked. “To me it more said, hey baby, want to play tonsil hockey with me?”
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Wendy Stone Brandon laughed, grabbing her in a tight hug before letting her loose and taking a towel off the pile. “You know, I never know what’s going to come out of your mouth.” She watched as he methodically dried off, his hand moving slower across the scar on his chest as if it still bothered him. “Yeah, my mouth has gotten me into trouble all my life.” “I used to want to gag you and throw you in a closet,” he admitted. “Now I’ll forget the gag and go in there with you. I’m sure I can find someway to keep your mouth busy.” He wiggled his eyebrows and she laughed. She grabbed her clothes off the sink, shaking out the wrinkles on them. Looking at them with disgust, she sighed. “I guess I’ll be shopping for some new clothes tonight. And a toothbrush, deodorant, makeup…” she sighed again, thinking of the money it was going to cost her. “We’ll take care of it,” Brandon said, stroking his hands down her arms. “But for now,” he held up a new toothbrush still in the packaging. “I bought two the last time I got a new one.” Shanna held it to her breast like it was the most generous of gifts, giving him a long kiss for his thoughtfulness. “Thank you,” she whispered against his lips. “You’re welcome. Hm, a kiss for a new toothbrush, what do I get if I buy you a new wardrobe?” he laughed as she narrowed her eyes at him before setting the toothbrush on the counter and dropping her towel. “You’ve got a deal,” he said, his eyes feasting over her supple skin. “Pervert,” she said, flushing as she quickly pulled on her bra, fastening it and then reached for her blouse. Brandon sighed, wrapped the towel around his waist and tucked it in before going to the sink and reaching for his shaving cream and razor. He got distracted by Shanna though as she was peering under the counter and around the floor. “What are you doing?” “Looking for my panties if you must know,” she said, blushing some more. “Ahh, sorry baby, those are casualties of war.” He smiled as he thought of the small ball of white cotton that was now residing in his shirt drawer. “I guess you’re going commando today.” “Brandon, that’s not funny,” she said, poking him gently in the chest. “Where are they?”
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Heaven In Her Eyes “Talk to the Geneva Convention, baby, there should be something they can do,” he laughed as she flushed, grabbing his brush from off the counter top and stalking into the bedroom. Getting ready went much quicker without her there to snarl up his senses and make him crazy. He was walking into the bedroom, his eyes searching for her, finding her sitting on the bed, finishing the long braid that kept her hair neat and out of her way during the day. “I used to dream of strangling you with that,” he said, walking up behind her to slide his hand down the long length of it. She lifted her chin, her eyes challenging, even as she smiled at him. “You’ve got your chance,” she said. “I wouldn’t hurt a hair on this beautiful head,” he whispered, smiling as he bent and kissed her sassy mouth. “I’m beginning to believe you.” She stood, running her hand over his smooth cheek and touching the tiny piece of toilet paper that had soaked up the blood where he’d nicked himself. It fell off in her hand and she stood on tip toe, pulling his head down to gently kiss the small cut. “All better,” she said. Then flushing, she walked by him, heading into the bathroom. As she reached the door to the bedroom, she stopped, calling his name. “Brandon?” “Yes?” he said, looking up from where he’d been going to grab some clothes. She turned, flipping up the back of her skirt where her white panties now covered her. “Nice try,” she said, before ducking out of the room. His laughter followed her. **** She stood in front of him, his hands cradling hers where they were wrapped around the lighter of his two pistols. It was the small twentytwo semi automatic he used as a back up weapon. “Just get a feel for it,” he said, stepping back to let her hold the unloaded weapon, making sure the slide was open. They were at the shooting range he sometimes frequented when he had some down time and wanted to get in some practice with his pistols. It was a gun club, but at this time in the morning, not many of the members were around and he was able to find a space well down from the other member shooting this morning. 77
Wendy Stone Shanna stood there, her eyes covered by yellow safety glasses, her ears covered by the huge ear-muff style protectors, looking very small as she carefully held the small pistol. She kept her finger well away from the trigger, as he’d told her and kept it pointed down range, even though there were no bullets in the gun. The trip to the gun range this morning had been spent going over gun safety and having her repeat it back to him, until she wanted to reach out and smack him. It wasn’t as if she was ever going to really have to handle a weapon, not without him being there with her. But she went along with it, because it was making him feel better. Now she felt a little like ‘Dirty Harry’, bringing the gun up and squinting down the barrel, pointing it at the target Brandon had sent down there on the little hanger a few moments before. “Cradle it a little more with your left hand, honey. I want the web of your hand right here.” He adjusted her grip a little until he was satisfied. “You hold it too low and your weapon could jam. Besides, you’ll have much more control during the recoil with a higher hand-grip. How does it feel?” “Heavy,” she said. “I’d hate to have to stand here and hold it for a long time.” “You should try shooting my Beretta.” “No, I shouldn’t,” she muttered under her breath, sneaking a peak at her watch. “Stop that,” he groused, coming up and taking the weapon from her. He laid it down on the shelf in front of her and picked up the clip, emptying it into his hand with a quick and practiced flip of his thumb. “These are bullets,” he said, handing her one. “Even I knew that,” she said in a huff, holding the bullet between her thumb and finger. “Smart ass. They go in the clip, like this.” He showed her how to do it and then unloaded the clip again, handing her the bullets and the clip. “Now you try it.” The first one was a little stubborn but once she did one, she got the hang of it. She loaded the entire clip and held it up triumphantly. “That wasn’t so hard.” He picked up his pistol, and showed her the butt of the gun and where the clip slid in, making sure she knew which direction to put it. Then he slid the clip into place, letting it rest there for a moment before showing her the small button that ejected the clip. Handing the pistol to 78
Heaven In Her Eyes her, he made her put the clip in and take it out until he was sure she’d have no problems if she ever needed to reload. Shanna listened carefully as he showed her where the slide release was, where the safety was and where the spent shells were ejected. She felt him come up behind her, before he showed her how to stand. He laid his hand on her stomach, then moved her legs further apart with his feet until he had her into position. “I’m going to shoot off this clip so you’ll get an idea of how loud it is and not be too jumpy on your first shot.” He took the pistol from her, expertly slid the clip in and ratcheted the first bullet into the chamber. He took up his position easily, having spent many years even before joining the FBI, handling guns of many different calibers. With little trouble, he emptied the clip, his grouping on the man shaped target very tight and in the small circle over the target’s heart. Shanna jerked at every explosion even though it was heavily muffled by the ear protectors. When he finished, he racked back the slide and hit the small button that ejected the clip. Then he turned to face her. The smile on his face disappeared as he saw how white her face was. “Shanna?” “I…I don’t think I can do it, Brandon.” “Shanna, honey, you can. I’ll help you.” He took her hand drawing her forward. “First we have to reload the clip.” Her hands shook as she reached out to pick up the clip and load the bullets the way he’d shown her. One of the bullets slipped out of her hand and she jumped back. “I’m sorry.” “It’s okay, I’ll help you. I promise.” Finally, the clip was loaded and she pushed it into the butt of the gun. She looked up at him, her eyes huge. “What next?” “Take a deep breath and smile, sweetie. It’s not that bad.” He came up behind her, turning her so she faced down the range. Putting his arm around her, he once more showed her the stance, drawing her arms up and cupping his hands under her arms, helping to support her stance. “Now, pull the slide back,” he said, watching as she struggled for a second and then had it pulled back, ratcheting the round into the chamber. “Good. Now remember how I told you how to aim, that’s it.” He kept his voice calm but even so, he could feel her shaking in his arms. He knew if she could squeeze the trigger once, to get that first shot 79
Wendy Stone behind her, she’d be okay. “Okay, now slowly and when you’re ready, squeeze the trigger.” When the gun went off, he heard her shriek, but she held her stance and kept her hands on the gun. The bullet went nowhere near the target, but he hadn’t really expected it too. “You did it, I knew you could.” His hand slid from her arm and landed on her smooth, flat stomach, hugging her. “Now, shall we try it again?” She nodded and with his help, managed to empty the clip, the last two shots even punctured through the target. When she’d finished the clip, she put the gun down gently and backed away from it. Her hands were shaking too badly to handle the gun anymore. “I did it.” “Yes you did. You did really well too, sweetheart. He pulled the clip and reloaded it, slipping on the safety and putting it in the holster he wore under his light jacket. They cleaned up and Shanna handed back in the eye and head wear gear, thanking the man with a shy smile. “We’ve got time before work to grab some breakfast, if you want,” he said, unlocking her door and letting her in the car. “I’m starving,” she said when he got into the car. “Good, me too.” He started the car and took off out of the parking lot. The gun club was on the outskirts of town in an old warehouse that had once been condemned. He knew of a decent place that served fantastic omelets and he headed there. He stopped at a red light, turning to smile at her. His head jerked back and he glanced in the rear view mirror, hearing the squeal of tires on the road. A huge black four-wheel drive was behind them, its grill tearing into the paint job of his much smaller Monte Carlo. It was pushing them into the intersection. Brandon ground down hard on the brakes, pulling up on the parking brake. But he knew he was no match for the bigger, muscular vehicle. He eyed the traffic going through the intersection while ignoring Shanna’s scream, he let up on the brakes and hit the accelerator hard. Brakes squealed, horns blared, the sound of metal hitting metal was loud, as cars swerved trying to miss them. Brandon almost made it through between a Mustang and a dump truck, but the truck caught the bumper on his car, spinning it. He looked up in time to see the lights of another truck heading right for him. “Shit!” He felt the collision and heard the squeal of brakes and smelt burning rubber. His side of the car caved in, the air bag inflating with a puff of white dust. He was thrown against Shanna and then pulled back 80
Heaven In Her Eyes by the seat-belt, his head came back and connected with the glass on the door of the car. Brakes squealed as cars tried to avoid the crashed cars, people were getting out of their vehicles and running to the mangled metal. Brandon opened his eyes, his head pounding like a hangover gone deadly. He blinked a couple of times, looking around him before remembering what had happened. “Shanna?” he moaned, reaching over to touch her. Her head was bloody but her seat belt had saved her from being injured too badly. Her side of the car was virtually untouched. She opened her eyes, fear making them huge. “Brandon, what happened?” Her car door was ripped open, a man leaned over her to pull off her seatbelt. Shanna screeched as the man went to lift her out of the car. She tried to hit him, her hands wind milling out striking his head and shoulders, as he tried to drag her out of the car. “Stop or I’ll shoot,” Brandon said, his voice deadly. “Let her go, now!”
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Chapter Eight The man looked up, and saw the pistol in Brandon’s hands. “Whoa, man. I’m only trying to get her out before the car blows up. No need to go postal on me,” he said, pulling his hands away from Shanna. “I didn’t mean your girlfriend any harm.” He turned, and before Brandon could say a word, he ran off, jumping into a van parked a little way off. It squealed away before Brandon could get a plate number. “Fuck!” Brandon groaned, using his free hand to wipe the blood from his head. “He’s not going to stop,” Shanna whispered, turning to look at him, her face turning pale as shock set in. “He’s going to keep after me until he gets me back. He’ll kill you to do it.” “But why now?” Brandon reached out, grabbing her arm. “Why is he so set on you coming back now? This is the second attempt in a matter of days, Shanna, not to mention the refurb job he did on your apartment.” He looked up as cop cars started to arrive. “I don’t know,” she whispered. “I wish I did.” The ambulances arrived and they were whisked away to one. Shanna’s head wound was cleaned up and bandaged, after she refused a trip to the hospital. After a fight, Brandon signed a waiver refusing medical treatment and was released too. The EMT was very adamant on the perils of head injuries, forcing them both to listen to his lecture before they could leave the ambulance. Brandon stood and stared at the damage done to his car, and groaned. This wasn’t his first accident, and probably wouldn’t be his last considering what his job was. His insurance was going to skyrocket. He shook his head as he watched the tow truck hook onto it, winching it onto a flatbed to take to the repair yard. 82
Heaven In Her Eyes “I’m sorry, Brandon,” Shanna said, coming up to him. “I know how much you loved that car.” Brandon wrapped his arm around her shoulders, squeezing her lightly. “It’s just a car, Shan; it can be replaced easily enough. I’m just glad you’re okay. You, I can’t replace so easily.” Shanna felt her heart swell, the joy she felt at his words making her headache a little easier to take. As such, she was a little surprised when he reached in his pocket and pulled out his cell phone. “What’s this for?” she asked, as he handed it to her. “For you to call in,” he said, feeling her stiffen under his arm. “It’s not safe, Shanna. Didn’t this show you that?” “I can’t afford to lose my job, Brandon,” she said softly, closing the phone and trying to hand it back to him. “You won’t lose your job,” he argued, pulling her out of the way of the flat bed as it started its engine. “I’ll talk to your boss. Maybe you can take some vacation time.” “I don’t have any vacation time, I haven’t been there that long.” Her hand came up, brushing his hair out of his bruised and battered face. At least the black eye she’d accidentally given him didn’t stand out so badly now, not with his fat lip and the bump on his head. “You look like you’ve been brawling at some bar.” “I feel like I’ve been brawling,” he said, shrugging his shoulder and wincing from the bruises on his body. “I need taking care of,” he whined, staring at her with hopeful green eyes. “You need a keeper,” she laughed. “Come on, Brandon. He’s already tried taking me at the bank, it didn’t work. What more could he mmmmffff…” The rest of her words were muffled by his hand against her mouth. “Are you nuts? Are you trying to get me killed? Jinx us again, Shanna. Shit, if this is your ex-to-be, he’s got money and resources and an alibi. There’s no telling what he might do next.” “Shanna Clinton?” Brandon and Shanna both turned and stared at the innocuous looking man, who somehow had managed to bypass the police tape and get to them. “Yes,” Shanna said, her voice hesitant. “Hi, my name is Geoffrey Allen,” the man said, holding out his hand. Shanna went to shake it and suddenly found an envelope thrust into the palm of her hand. 83
Wendy Stone “You’ve been served,” the man said. He turned and left as quickly as he’d shown up. “I’ve been what?” she asked, staring at the white envelope bulging with legal papers and then at the back of the man who was quickly fleeing the area. Brandon took it from her, slit open the top and pulled out the papers. He unfolded the thick blue backed pages and read the first few lines. “Son of a bitch,” he whistled. “I can’t believe this. He’s suing you for the mental anguish caused by your desertion of the marriage and your refusal to join him for marriage counseling. He’s stating his campaign to keep his Senatorial seat, has been affected by your leaving the marriage the way you did.” “What?” she grabbed the papers out of his hands, and stared at the words that might as well have been in Greek for as much as she understood the legal language. “Can he do that?” Her knees felt weak and she sat on the curb. “I don’t know for sure. I do know we need to get you to your attorney’s office and have him look at this.” He reached in, pulling out his phone. “Dial the number for the bank, I’ll speak to your boss. You won’t lose your job,” he added, sinking down next to her on the curb. “I’ll make sure of it.” Shanna stared at the papers as he spoke into the phone her mind seemed to be turned to mush. But it focused suddenly, crystal clear as one line jumped at her. “Brandon…” she said, turning to look up at him “This court date—it isn’t today, is it?” He slid his hand over the bottom of his phone. “No, it couldn’t be today. Court dates take forever to get. There’s no way he could…” his voice trailed off as he stared at the date she was pointing at. “Shit! No, not you sir. Yes, she’s fine but she’ll need to take a leave of absence. No, she isn’t in trouble with the law. Yes, thank you sir, I’ll be sure to pass that along.” He flipped his phone closed, grabbing the papers from her hand. “Who did Hunt get to represent you?” “Maggie Shane,” Shanna said, her amber eyes clouding and a single tear slipping down her cheek. “Could I go to jail if I don’t make it to court today?” “You aren’t going to jail, I promise. You don’t happen to have Maggie’s phone number, I can’t find it in my phone.” 84
Heaven In Her Eyes “No, not on me. Why would she be on your phone?” Shanna asked, then stared at him, watching as his face turned red. “Did you two…?” “We dated for a while, a couple years ago. It wasn’t a big thing,” he insisted as Shanna still stared at him. “You dated Maggie Shane?” Shanna couldn’t help but bring to mind the picture of the statuesque red head with the impressive figure she kept trim and shapely. She filled out a business suit in a way that should be illegal and had eyes the color of violets. But she also had a mind like a steel trap and a mouth she wasn’t afraid to use to drive her opponent into the dust. She was a divorce attorney and had the reputation of being a shark. “I dated her right before she met her husband,” he added, hoping that would calm her down a little. “Come on, we gotta get a ride back to my place and get your car. We’ve got some stuff to do.” He grabbed her arm, hoisting her off the curb and back onto her feet. Getting a black and white to take them back to his apartment was no problem. There he made a phone call to Maggie Shane, hearing her confident and lilting voice on the phone. “Brandon Austin, how are you? I haven’t heard from you in…well, years. You aren’t in trouble I hope?” “Not your kind, Maggie. I’m doing good, but I have one of your clients with me and she really needs to see you.” “Who?” she asked, and Brandon could almost imagine her picking up her small horn rimmed glasses and sliding them on that sharp, pretty face. “Shanna Clinton. She was served papers this morning from her husband.” “What did that bastard do this time?” Maggie said. “Never mind, don’t explain it to me now. Can you have her here in…two hours?” She thumbed through the pages of her book, checking her appointments. “I’d make it sooner, but I have court in twenty minutes.” “That’ll have to do thanks, Maggie.” Brandon snapped his phone closed. “Maggie can see us in two hours, Shan. Until then, you’ve got to calm down. I’m not going to let you go to jail. We’ll work this out.” He rubbed his hands up and down her arms, seeing her teeth chatter. “Maybe we should take you to the emergency room, have you checked out?” Shanna was cold, frozen down to her soul. Not only was Jackson hurting her again, he was hurting Brandon. “Maybe I should just go to 85
Wendy Stone the marriage counseling like he wants,” she said in a small voice. “Maybe it will make him happy and he’ll stop what he’s doing.” “No! My God, Shanna, do you actually believe the man will stop with marriage counseling? After everything you’ve told me about him, about the things he forced you to do and the scars I’ve seen on your body, do you really think all he wants is for the two of you to see some shrink?” “No,” she said in a miserable and tired little voice. She pulled away from him, going to sit down on the sofa, her hand running over the soft leather as tears filled her eyes. “No, I know he wants me back under his thumb. And it’s not even that he really wants me, he can’t stand the thought that he lost. Jackson doesn’t like to lose.” “I don’t give a fuck what Jackson wants or doesn’t want. What do you want?” Brandon sank down next to her, resisting the urge to pull her into his arms. She was going to have to come to him this time. She had to have some backbone, to stick up for herself, or she was just going to end up walking back into the hell of her marriage. The thought caused a sick feeling in his gut. The thought of never holding her, of never seeing her or kissing her or, hell, even fighting with her again caused a sick panic to flare through him. “What do you want?” he asked again, softer, turning and trying to get her to look at him. “I want my life,” she whispered. “I want my freedom. I don’t want to ever be hit or slapped or bit again. I want…I want the ability to love again, freely with none of the baggage I’ve got now.” Her head lifted and she turned tear drenched amber eyes up to him. “I want to be able to go to bed with you and not wonder if it’s pity or if I turn you off, or if some time in the middle, I’ll open my eyes and see Jackson staring down at me.” “You think I pity you? How can you think I pity you?” He scooped his hair off his forehead, wincing as he accidentally hit the bump on his brow. “The last thing I do is pity you, Shanna. I lust after you, I go nuts sometimes when you jump all over me for no logical reason, but the very last thing I do is pity you.” “Oh, so you look at the scars that man put on my body and don’t feel any pity?” Shanna’s voice was as angry as his and she turned, ready to do battle. “Don’t tell me you don’t feel pity, I’ve seen it in your eyes.” “What do you feel when you see the scar on my chest?” “What does that have to do with anything?” she asked, flustered by his sudden switch of subjects. 86
Heaven In Her Eyes “Just shut up for once and answer the damned question,” he growled. “What do you feel when you see or touch the scar on my chest?” The anger in her eyes drained away, replaced by a softness that stunned him. She reached out, touching the shirt that covered the scar. “I hurt because you were in so much pain. I wish I could make the pain disappear. I wish I could wave a magic wand and make that girl’s gun jam or the bullet smash into a building or something.” “Is that pity?” he asked, his voice husky, his hand coming up to cover hers, holding it flat against his chest. “N…no,” she said, startled. “Is that how you feel?” He nodded. “I wish I could go back to right before he walked up to you at the football game, and sweep you away out from under his nose. Then you’d have been with me all these years, we’d have kids and be an old married couple and you’d never have those memories to haunt you, or these problems we have to deal with now.” His hand came up, brushing the strands of her hair that had come loose from her braid back from her face. “I don’t pity you, baby. I love you.” Shanna felt as if someone had punched her. “Y…You love me?” she whispered. She got up, pulling away from him, and walked over to the kitchen, reaching into one of the cupboards for a glass. Turning on the cold water, she let it fill the glass and then turned it off, setting the glass on the counter. Her hands reached out, grabbing onto the edge of the counter, turning white as she stood there, her entire body stiff. “Well, it wasn’t exactly the response I was hoping for,” he said, trying to force down the hurt he felt. It was the first time he’d uttered those three words seriously since his parents died. “You can’t love me,” she whispered. He heard her though, no matter how soft her whisper. “Why can’t I?” “I’m damaged goods. I’m another man’s wife. I’m mentally incapable of making love. Pick one,” she said bitterly. “What does that have to do with love? Dammit, Shanna, look at me.” He rose from the sofa, going to her and grabbing her arms. “I haven’t been able to get you out of my mind since I saw you at Sebastian’s mansion. That’s not true,” he immediately amended. “I haven’t been able to forget you since you knocked on my door, looking like a scared kitten with her back arched and her claws bare. I think I started falling for you the moment you said your very first scathing remark to me.” “I knew it, you’re a masochist,” she tried to joke. 87
Wendy Stone “I’ll be a masochist if you’ll wear the leather,” he said. “I can see you in a tiny leather bustier with a thong, fish net stockings and some killer stilettos.” “Keep dreaming,” she said, though she smiled. “You don’t have to say you love me back, Shanna.” “I don’t know how I feel. Before seeing you at the park, I hadn’t had much to do with you since Aaron’s wedding. Things have been kind of happening fast and furious since yesterday.” She was lying and she knew it. She’d thought of him many times since Aaron’s wedding, dreamed about him, daydreamed about him. She looked up into his eyes. She could see his feelings in the soft green gaze and felt her heart start to thump wildly in her chest. “Do you really love me?” she couldn’t help but ask. “I haven’t said those words to a woman not my relative since third grade, Mrs. Wilson’s class. Becky Mae Jorgenson,” he sighed. “Big blue eyes and huge buck teeth, but she could knock a kick ball across the field.” Shanna laughed, she couldn’t help it. He was all too charming when he wanted to be. “So when do we leave?” “We’ve got a little over an hour, depending if you drive or if I drive,” he said, making her snort. “Why? Do you have some devious plot to take advantage of my poor, measly body? Please?” He groaned at the twinkle that came to her eyes, and the mischievous look that swept his entire form from head to toe. With just a look, she made him hard and aching, his cock pressing insistently at the zipper of his jeans. With a smile, she came closer to him, her hands sliding up his chest, locking behind his neck to drag his head down. “I did go with you and shoot a gun this morning,” she whispered, licking her lips enticingly. “Yes, you did,” he agreed, his hands going around her back, pulling up the back of her blouse and sliding under it to feel her warm skin. He drew her closer, hearing her quickly inhaled breath and knew she could feel how much he wanted her. “So I could very well threaten to shoot your mangy butt, if you don’t pick me up right now and carry me off to bed.” “Anything to please the lady,” he said, smiling as he bent over and lifted her easily into his arms. He groaned as she took advantage of her position, burying her face in his neck, licking and nipping at the skin of his throat. “Wait,” he hissed, and she pulled back, staring up at him in 88
Heaven In Her Eyes confusion. “Mangy butt? You must have me confused with someone else.” “Shut up, Brandon,” she ordered, sealing off his next remark with her lips. He dropped her on the bed, ignoring the hissing of his cats who were napping there, following her down, his lips never leaving hers. He kissed her until she could barely breathe, lifting his head barely enough to catch his breath. His hands went to the buttons of her blouse, pulling them open eagerly, anxious to feel the soft fullness of her breasts. “You are so beautiful,” he groaned, staring down at the full mounds, held captive behind the thin lace of her bra. He traced the pretty edging, found the front clasp and flicked it open with ease, carefully pealing the cups from her body to expose the softness of her breasts. It felt different now, with the bright sunlight shining through the windows of the bedroom. Jackson had always made her “perform” at night, usually after he’d been drinking. His hands had always been harsh and hurtful, his fingers always probing and poking at her. Brandon stroked, he petted and caressed, his eyes full of admiration and desire, soft with emotion. He lay beside her on the bed, his hand cupping her breast as if he had all the time in the world. He played with her nipple, his thumb rubbing over it, flicking at the hard tip. His mouth found hers, and he kissed her softly, slowly, lavishing love upon her, making her feel sheltered and wanted. “Brandon,” she whispered, feeling her heart pick up its beat as she made her decision. “I want to feel you…inside me.” Her hand went to his cheek, her eyes dropping and then returning to meet the gentle heat of his. “Are you sure?” he asked, his body aching with need for her. “I don’t want you to think that…” “Will you shut up?” she said. “I said it and I meant it.” “Shut me up,” he teased her with a grin, pulling his lips back and away from her. She picked her head up, trying to reach his lips but he moved backwards until he was flat on his back. Shanna moved over him, shedding her shirt and bra so her naked breasts were unfettered, pressing against the softness of his shirt, warm from the heat of his body. She felt his arms come around her, his hands roaming over her skin with unhurried strokes, the heat of his palms a sensual caress. She found his lips, teasing him with tiny kisses, licking at the corners of his mouth before nipping at his bottom lip. 89
Wendy Stone “You’re a minx,” he groaned as her nimble fingers started in on the buttons of his shirt. She stripped it from his body, sitting him up to push the material down his arms, letting him deal with the cuffs and getting them over his hands. Sliding up behind him as he sat and worked at the buttons on his cuffs, she pressed her breasts into his back, her hands roaming over his chest, playing with his nipples. Her mouth played on his throat, her tongue flicking over the hard muscle. “How you ever thought you were frigid,” he said, reaching back once he got rid of the shirt, finding her dark head and pulling her around. “I’ll never know, you’re hotter than the sun.” His mouth found hers, his hands held her tightly, groaning as he felt her soft breasts pressing so intimately against his chest. He pushed her back, his hands going to her skirt, eager to have her naked, to bare her to his eyes and hands and teach her that lovemaking was a joy, not something to fear. It slid down her hips easily, his hands making quick work, sliding it off her feet and draping it at the foot of the bed. He lifted her foot, pulling off the small pump that covered her pink tipped toes, pressing a soft kiss to her arch before doing the same to the other. Then he stood there, enchanted by the picture she made against the softness of his down spread, her pale body seeming to glow in the sunlight, her amber eyes bright even as she blushed. “I love you, Shanna,” he said softly, before coming back up to her, his mouth finding hers. He didn’t give her a chance to say anything, afraid of how he would feel if she couldn’t answer the same in return. Instead, he put everything he had into making love to her, showing her with soft touches and tender caresses. His hands molded her flesh, teased her curves, stroked over the slender line of her waist. He played with the elastic of her panties, smiling against her lips as he thought of how he would steal these away this time. Moving back, he pulled the soft cotton from her hips, his eyes lingering on the soft black pelt that covered her sex. “You’re sure?” he asked, his heart thundering so loudly in his chest he was afraid he wouldn’t hear her answer. Shanna smiled, nodding her head, reaching out for him. Brandon made her wait, while he unbuckled his belt and kicked off his shoes. He pulled off his socks and all the while, his eyes seemed to devour her, storing up this moment as a memory to savor later. He stripped off his jeans, pulling his briefs off with them until he stood before her as naked as she. 90
Heaven In Her Eyes Even though she’d seen him nude before, had even had that immense proof of his manliness in her mouth, she still couldn’t help but stare, her eyes wide as she thought of what was to come. Jackson had been brutal, every time, as if he couldn’t get off unless he hurt her in some way, degraded her and made her feel like less than a woman. But his cock, it could never compare to this. Brandon put his knee on the bed, and then stretched out next to her, his hand sweeping from her throat, down the front of her body, letting his palm rest on the curls of her sex. It rested there even as he kissed her, his tongue sweeping into her mouth, tangling with hers, hearing her groan of pleasure. Shanna was ever aware of his hand as it rest softly on the soft skin of her mound, but he distracted her with his lips, kissing her and then pulling away. His lips moved across her cheek, his tongue swirled around the whorl of her ear. She shivered, her body feeling languid and heavy, passion causing her heart to throb in a heavy beat. He found her throat, and she felt the wet trail of his tongue moving across her collarbone, dipping into the small hollows, tasting her skin. His lips were soft on her skin, his hand still not moving, though she began to wish it would. He lapped at her nipple, his tongue doing amazing things to the hard bud, making her back arch with the need to feel it in the hot, wet depths of his mouth. She wanted him to suckle her, to nibble and lick her breasts. Whimpers came from her mouth and a soft moan reached him as he finally took the taut tip in his mouth. She reached up, holding his head still, her body writhing under his. Then she felt his hand move and for a moment she stiffened, her nails dug into his skin, her eyes opened, and blindly stared around the room. “Brandon?” she whimpered. He was there in an instant, even as his fingers parted her swollen and wet lips, he was there. “I’m here, it’s me,” he said, remembering what she had said. Her hands latched onto him and she stared up into his eyes. “Are you okay?” he asked gruffly even as his finger found the stiff little button of her clit, teasing it with a light touch. “Y…yes,” she said, then groaned, her eyes fluttering shut, only to open again. “Please, Brandon…” she whimpered. “Please just…do it.” His brow creased as he stared down at her. She was wet, he could feel the proof of her desire in the moisture that coated his hand and dripped 91
Wendy Stone from her sex. She wanted him, yet… “Are you sure?” he couldn’t help but ask one last time. “P…Please…” she whimpered. Her head went back and he saw her tense as he slid his finger into her. She was tight, though her body welcomed him, her flesh stretching with delicate pressure as he pushed another finger into her. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he groaned, his thumb rubbing at her clit. Her hips started to move, thrusting in a wondrous counter rhythm to his fingers, her body now demanding as her thighs opened wider. “B…Brandon!” she cried, her eyes opening, staring sightlessly up at him. He felt the first contractions of her soft muscles around him and pulled his fingers away, slipping between her splayed thighs, his hand guiding his cock to her wet passage. He pushed gently and then harder, feeling her orgasm in the continuing fluttering around his cock as she welcomed him in. Her thighs opened wider, her knees pulling up, her legs brushing against his as she clutched him to her. He thrust into her slowly, going deeper, his eyes on her face watching for any signs of fear. There was none. All he saw was wonder as she brought her hands up, to caress his body, her hips moving under his. The pleasure was amazing, the friction on his cock almost more than he could take. He tried to keep his thrusts slow, tried to hold back his own pleasure, wanting to know she enjoyed this as much as he did. “God, Shanna,” he growled, “you feel amazing.” She opened her eyes, smiling up at him. “Mmm, yes,” she almost purred, her hands still caressing his chest. She leaned up to kiss the long bruise, where his seatbelt had dug into him. “More,” she breathed, curling her fingers around his back. In the bright light of day, the two appeared almost golden. Brandon’s hard, muscled body dwarfing Shanna’s softly curved form. The shaft of sunlight that highlighted their bodies, sparkled in the sweat that covered them. His hands seemed huge on her petite body, capturing the sweet mound of her breast, roaming over her ribs and down her stomach. Brandon leaned down, his body on fire, the need to come almost painful. He slammed into her, unable to stop himself though he felt her moving just as greedily under him, her fingers digging in, her cries meeting and mixing with his moans. His thumb parted the plump lips that guarded her soft slit, sliding in to find her clit. “Come for me, baby,” 92
Heaven In Her Eyes he groaned, his green eyes like jade fire as he gazed down at her. “Come with me.” “Ah…” she cried. “Yes.” Her body arched, her hips pressing against his hand. He felt the fluttering again, felt it pull him deeper. Shanna felt as if her body was going to explode. The pressure inside of her burst and she clutched at him frantically, almost lifting her body off the bed as the incredible sensations only he’d ever made her feel washed over her. Long, heated shudders of pleasure that had her nerve endings sizzling, seemed even stronger this time than the first. Then she felt him come, heard his roar and felt his body jerking against hers. She felt his cock inside of her seem to grow bigger if that were possible, as a heated warmth suffused her, a wetness she knew was his seed. Maybe it was the knowledge she’d made a man like Brandon climax, or the fact he’d told her he loved her, she didn’t know. All she did know, was that no matter what happened she would never forget this moment. She’d never forget how it felt to be cherished or to be made love to. Never forget the look in his eyes or the sound of his voice. If Jackson managed to get his hands on her, to bring her back to the torture, rapes and beatings, this moment would sustain her. Brandon let out a long sigh, his body slumping against her, his weight held carefully off of her by his elbows. He felt her arms wrap around his back, her hands sliding over his skin and knew a peace he’d never ever felt before. “Brandon?” she whispered, huskily, waiting until he lifted his head to look at her. “I lo…” A loud pounding, like someone beating a fist on the door sounded, startling them both. “Austin! Where’s my sister?!”
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Chapter Nine Brandon jerked in surprise, pulling away from her and sat up in the bed. He heard Shanna moan and saw her reach for a pillow and pull it over her face. “Make him go away,” she said into the muffling material. “Aaron?” Brandon asked her, standing and getting out his robe before grabbing for his jeans and shirt. “No, it’s worse. That’s Dillon,” she groaned, pushing the pillow away and taking the robe he handed her. She slid her arms in and then tried to belt it tightly around her waist but it was huge on her, the sleeves hanging over her hands. “Dillon? What the hell is he doing here?” “Austin, God damn it. I know my sister is in there. I talked to the bank and they said you called her in. Let me in!” The words were followed by more of the annoying pounding. “I’ve got to let him in before he has the entire building calling the cops,” he said, pulling on his jeans and buttoning them, then tossing on his shirt. He left it unbuttoned, hurrying to the door. “Shut up already, I’m coming, damn it.” He clicked back the dead bolt before turning the knob and pulling open the door He watched as Dillon stalked into the room. Dillon Russell Hunter was thirty-two but looked younger with the black hair and amber eyes of his sister. His hair was long, pulled back in a simple tail by a plain silver clip and reached his shoulder blades. Black brows and thick lashes framed his amber eyes. A well-trimmed mustache and goatee surrounded his mouth that was pulled down in an aggravated frown. Wearing a black leather jacket, a plain black tee shirt
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Heaven In Her Eyes and well worn jeans, he looked more suited to a biker bar than the trendy Hunter Detective Agency he ran in Lansing, Michigan. “You don’t need to beat down the damn door,” Brandon said, turning back to Dillon after closing the door behind him. And found himself on the floor, looking up as the big man stood over him, the fist he’d just hit him with drawn back, ready for another swing. “Get up, Austin,” he growled, sparks shooting from eyes gone gold with rage. “Get up so I can beat the hell out of you.” “Dillon, God, stop it!” Shanna yelled, running out of the bedroom and almost tripping on the hem of the bathrobe. She threw herself on the floor next to Brandon, putting her diminutive form between the two men. “What’s wrong with you?” she hissed over her shoulder before she turned to assess the damage to Brandon’s face. Brandon felt his already blackened eye beginning to swell and grumbled out a curse. “Fuck! What is it with you Hunters and my eye?” He reached up to touch it, only to have his hand slapped away as Shanna leaned over him. “Don’t play with it,” she ordered sternly. “I’ll get you some ice.” “Quit babying him, Shanna. I didn’t hit him that hard.” Dillon growled and stalked the room, trying to get out some of his anger in other ways, now his baby sister was here. She obviously wasn’t going to let him get it out by beating the shit out of Brandon. “Shut up, Dillon,” Shanna said, pushing her brother backwards with both hands. “How dare you come in here and hit him?” “He’s keeping you away from family, Shanna. I thought after the last disaster, you wouldn’t hook up with an asshole just like the first,” he shouted at her. “Hey!” the word came from two mouths as the insult hit both targets. But it was Shanna who responded. “Brandon has saved my life not once but three times in the past two days, Dillon. If you’d bothered to ask what’s been going on, or cared to do anything but come in and use your fists, like usual I could have told you. He’s protecting me, not keeping me.” “That’s why you’re dressed in a bathrobe and he’s running around like that at this time of the morning? Because he’s protecting you?” Dillon reached out to grab the lapels of the robe Shanna was wearing, only to find himself thrust backwards as Brandon pushed between them. “Don’t touch her,” he growled. “You want to take out your pissed off out on me, go ahead, but don’t you ever lay a finger on her!” 95
Wendy Stone Shanna found herself looking at Brandon’s back, unable to see around him as he planted himself in front of her. “Brandon…” “I’d never hurt my sister, you ass. But you on the other hand,” he growled and took a step forward. “Stop it! Just fucking stop it!” she yelled, pushing between them once more. She turned to Brandon, resting her hand against the scar on his chest. “He wouldn’t hurt me, Brandon. It’s okay, really.” But her demeanor changed when she turned and glared at her brother. “What gives you the right to question me?” she snarled. “Or to hit the man I love? Calm your butt down and sit down and maybe we can tell you what’s going on.” She pushed him towards the sofa, smiling in satisfaction as his leg got caught on the coffee table and he fell backwards onto the cushions. She turned, meaning to get some ice for Brandon’s rapidly swelling eye when he stepped in front of her, grabbing her arms with his hands and held her still. “Did you mean it?” he whispered, bending his head to rest his forehead against her. “Am I the man you love?” “Yes,” she whispered back, feeling Dillon’s eyes boring holes into her back. “But now is not the time or place…mmmfff.” Brandon picked her up, his lips on hers, all thoughts of her brother, his black eye, bruises, or Jackson Clinton gone in the single instant it took her to utter one word. He swung her around, hearing her giggle. “I love you, Shanna.” Her hand went to his cheek, her eyes searching his, finding the love he displayed so openly. “I love you, Brandon.” “Okay, fine,” Dillon said, his arms crossed over his muscled chest. “He loves you, you love him, now can you stop before I get sick?” “Jealous?” Brandon asked, walking over and sitting in the chair across from him. “She’s my sister, shithead.” Dillon glared at Brandon for a moment only stopping when Shanna came back with ice for his eye. “So, you’re okay then?” he asked, glancing back and forth between them. “Yeah, well, no, Dillon, but I’m working on it.” “Clinton is out after her,” Brandon said, cutting right to the chase. He took the compress from Shanna and held it to his eye with a grimace. “He set up a scam at the bank she works at, trying to kidnap her. He’s trashed her place and this morning he hired at least two guys to ram my car and then try to take her.” 96
Heaven In Her Eyes “Jackson did all of that?” There was a knock on the door of the apartment before Brandon could answer. He got up, handing the ice back to Shanna. “Who’s there?” “San Antonio police, sir. We got a call about a disturbance at this address.” “Shit,” Brandon breathed. “What’d I tell you? Dammit, Hunter, next time you get a bug up your ass call like normal people.” “I did try calling, I’ve been calling her cell phone all morning since I got in,” Dillon said, sitting back and crossing his legs, his huge black biker boot sitting negligently on his denim-clad knee. He smiled sarcastically. “Don’t you think you’d better let your guests in?” “Shut the fuck up,” Brandon growled, going to the door and opening it. The door rebounded out of his hands, slamming against the wall as it was kicked open. Brandon jumped back in time to see two men, definitely not dressed in police uniforms, barrel into his apartment, guns drawn. “Where’s the girl?” “She’s right over there, you idiot,” the other man said, using his gun to point. He looked strangely familiar to Brandon. “You, come on. You’re worth a whole lotta money.” He smiled greedily, flicking his eyes over Shanna dressed in only the robe. “Over your dead bodies,” Dillon said, getting up and grabbing Shanna’s arm, yanking her behind him. “Who the fuck are you?” the younger of the two men asked. He was also the bigger of the two, dressed in jeans and plaid flannel shirts; they both looked as if they’d be more comfortable on horse back than they were with the guns. “Her brother, she’s not going anywhere with you two.” “FBI! Drop the guns!” The door flew open again, Rylie stood there, her gun drawn and pointing at the two gunmen. “Drop the guns and I won’t have to shoot you,” Rylie said congenially enough, a slight smile on her gorgeous tanned face. “Shit,” Brandon sighed. “What is this, Grand Central Station?” “Not happy to see me, partner?” Rylie grinned, putting her gun away when the real San Antonio police came flying into the apartment to secure the two men. 97
Wendy Stone “I’m always happy to see you, Rylie,” he said sarcastically, groaning when she came over and poked at his black and swollen eye. “Nice shiner, who gave it to you?” “I ran into a door,” he growled. “The younger of the two was at the accident scene this morning. He tried to pull Shanna out of the car.” “Ahh, want me to have them hold them for you to interrogate?” she turned and gave the order to the police without waiting for him to answer. “Who’s your company?” she asked, elbowing him in the ribs. “Rylie Moore, Dillon Hunter,” he said, sighing. He glanced at his watch. Time was slipping away too quickly, they would have to leave for Maggie’s soon. “Oh, another Hunter,” Rylie said, holding her hand out to the disturbingly handsome man. He took it, his big hand dwarfing her slender palm, his eyes roaming with distinctive male appreciation over her slender curves. “You’re partners with him and still alive?” He tossed a thumb over his shoulder towards Brandon. “Yeah, I’ve managed to keep his butt out of trouble most of the time.” Brandon ignored them, his attention on Shanna. He held out his arm to her. “Are you okay?” she asked quietly as she came to him, taking his hand. “I was just going to ask you the same question.” He smiled down at her gently, stroking his hand over his cheek. “Why don’t you get dressed?” “I’m taking her with me, Austin.” Dillon’s voice held a note of warning that he wouldn’t be denied. “What was it you just said? Oh yeah, over your dead body,” Brandon growled, his eyes daring Dillon to even try. “She’ll be safer with me and Aaron than she’d ever be with you,” Dillon said, coming forward to stand toe to toe with Brandon. They were of the same height, both tall, well built men, both with the same determined look in their eyes. Amber met green and clashed as each tried to prove supremacy. Shanna stared at the men she loved, as they both tried to decide what was best for her. “Will you two stop it? God!” she screamed, throwing her hands up in the air and walking into the bedroom to get dressed. 98
Heaven In Her Eyes “What’s wrong with her?” Dillon grouched, staring at the bedroom door as it slammed shut behind Shanna’s petite figure. “Besides you two trying to figure out her future for her without giving her a say and treating her like a tasty bone, I don’t have a clue,” Rylie said, leaning against one of the walls, one high heeled foot crossed over the other, her arms crossed under her very nice breasts. She had an amused smile on her face and it ticked Brandon off. “You know, Rye, you’ve been great and it’s not like I don’t want to see you or anything, but…get out.” “God, Austin, if this is the way you treat all your guests, it’s amazing anyone wants to be around you,” Dillon said. “You, I’ll take out myself,” Brandon growled, coming towards Dillon, mayhem in his eyes. “Boys, boys,” Rylie chided, coming to stand between the two, putting a hand on each of their chests. She turned, looking Dillon over, her hand rubbing gently even as she scolded them both. “You two want to knock this off, or Mom’s going to make you walk around the block holding hands.” Shanna came out of the bedroom, putting the rubber band around her newly braided hair. “Rylie, do you have anything going on right now?” she asked the FBI agent who was giving her brother the eye. “Uh, besides going down and harassing some suspects, nope, not a thing. Want to go shopping?” she asked Shanna, giving her a wink. “Actually, I need a ride to my lawyer’s office and then back to my apartment,” she said, reaching for the court papers that were still on the table where she’d dropped them. “Shanna…” Brandon and Dillon both said at once. “No!” she snarled, turning to look at them. “Until you both realize I’m done being coddled and protected and sheltered, you can both go to hell.” “Shanna, please, darlin’,” Brandon said, reaching out to take her hand. He took a deep breath, forced himself to swallow a whole hell of a lot of male pride. “Your brother and I are just worried about your safety. Clinton isn’t a man to fuck with, honey.” “I was married to him, Brandon,” Shanna said angrily. “Trust me, if anyone should know, it’s me.” “I know, I only meant we now know how dangerous he is. I know your brother is feeling guilty he didn’t step in to help you earlier and 99
Wendy Stone that’s why he’s being such an ass now.” Brandon glared over at Dillon who sent him a seething glance. “We just want you safe, Shanna,” Dillon said, his voice tight. “If you think you’re safe with Brandon, then…I’ll back off. I’m not leaving town though until this thing is over.” He took Rylie’s hand, slipping his card into it, his cell phone number written on the back. “It was a pleasure to meet you,” he said softly, giving her one more of those heated looks that turned his amber eyes a startling gold color. “Austin,” he growled, dipping his head in a surly nod. “I’ll be around,” he warned. “Nice to know,” Brandon growled right back. “You okay?” Rylie asked Shanna, ready to take her if necessary, but now her studly brother was out of the picture, she had a feeling things would smooth over. Shanna nodded, looking up at Brandon. “Okay, then. Two’s company, three can be fun but definitely not here. I’m going, got a phone call to make,” she said, smiling at Shanna and poked at the swelling around Brandon’s eye again. “You might want to watch those nasty right doorknobs. Get some ice on it,” she laughed, before stalking out of the room on her thin high heels, closing the door behind her. “Are you okay?” Brandon asked Shanna, who was stuffing the papers into her purse. “Yeah, though I’m getting kind of tired of being asked that. I’m not falling apart, I’m not the one throwing punches or acting all cavemannish.” She dropped her purse on the table and pulled one of the chairs out. Shanna sat down placing her hands in her lap. “Yesterday morning, I got ready for work, watered my plants and went to work. The biggest thing I had on my mind was whether or not I was going to go to the Pet Adoption Fair in the mall and pick myself out a cat. Now look at me.” “You didn’t do anything to deserve this, honestly.” He crouched down in front of her, dropping his hand on top of hers. “Your husband is an ass, Shanna. He’s a bully, and he’s playing games. We’ll get through this. But we have to take it a step at a time and…” She leaned forward and kissed him, careful of his eye and split lip. “I know,” she said, as she lifted her head then stroked her hand over his cheek. “I do know. It’s just, I was thinking. I just committed adultery,” 100
Heaven In Her Eyes she said softly. “I mean, he forced me to….but this time, I did it of my own free will. What would happen if he found out?” “Are you asking for anything from him?” Brandon leaned his head into her hand, loving the soft feel of her palm against his cheek. “Asking for…oh, you mean in the divorce? No. I took anything I had of value to me when I left. I don’t want anything from him but my freedom. I told Maggie that when I filed for divorce.” “And you have no clue why he would be coming after you now, when he’s left you alone for months?” “He hasn’t actually left me alone. He just didn’t have any way to contact me except through Maggie. I wouldn’t give him a phone number or an address. I didn’t think it was smart.” He let her hand drop back to her lap as he got up and paced. Brandon’s brain was whirling. Why would he be so hot to have her back now? Why trash her place the way he had? Was he trying to scare her? Or was there something there he wanted back? Now there was an intriguing thought. He glanced down at his watch and swore. “Shit, I’ve got to get dressed. Looks like I’m driving,” he said to Shanna, making her smile. He hurried into the bedroom, grabbing clean clothes and threw them on. When he came back out, he was strapping on his 9mm Beretta. When it sat back in its accustomed place under his arm, he felt almost human again. Shrugging on his jacket, he winced a bit at the bruises he’d got in the crash, knowing that by tomorrow he’d feel like he’d been hit by a garbage truck. “Ready to go?” She rose, laying her hand in his. “Are you sure it’s safe?” she teased as he drew her with him towards the door. “Yeah, I don’t think even Clinton could come up with any more goons for a while. Now, if you’re really good, maybe we can stop at the mall on the way home and pick you up some new clothes.” They walked out into the parking lot and he took her keys out of his pocket, hit the automatic door locks and opened her door. The drive to Maggie’s building was quick, the traffic was light just before noon rush hour started. He pulled into a parking structure not far from the building, ignoring the startled look the attendant gave him when he took the ticket and the guy got a good look at his face. “You know,” Shanna said, digging into her purse and pulling out a heavy gold colored compact. “I could hide some of that for you with a little powder.” She opened the antique piece, pulling out the small puff. 101
Wendy Stone “No thanks, I’d rather look like I ran into a truck, than look like I’m trying to hide the fact I ran into a truck. That’s pretty, it looks old, is it?” “My dad got it for my mom for their first anniversary. Mom always said she was going to give it to me someday, so after she died…” Her voice trailed off and she closed the piece, running her hands over the intricately detailed surface. “I almost lost it once when Jackson was in a particularly foul mood. He broke the top on it, but then, to make it up to me, I guess, he took it in and had it fixed.” “I’m glad the man at least had the class to get it fixed, baby. Something like that is important.” He reached out and took her hand as she dropped it back into her purse. “I’ve carried it with me everywhere since I got it. It doesn’t leave my purse.” She sniffed, and then reached into her bag and grabbed a tissue. “Okay,” she said, sounding determined now. “Let’s go get this over with.”
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Chapter Ten Jackson Clinton sat in his private office at his home in Orange County, Virginia, staring at the view of the Rapidan River in the distance. His family had owned the home since before the Civil War and had fought with the North to abolish slavery. His great something uncle whose portrait was displayed over the grand fireplace in the salon, had even met the late President Lincoln prior to his engagement at the Ford Theatre. There was a chirping sound and Jackson leaned forward, to reach for his cell phone, which sat in front of him on the window-sill. “Never mind the phone, my dear,” he said to the young brunette who was busily slurping on his cock. “You just finish what you’re doing.” Marnie Lombard, tall, beautiful with legs that seemed miles long, smiled around the cock she had in her mouth, glancing up at him through melted chocolate, brown eyes. She was his assistant, his very personal assistant and had been for the five months his wife had been gone. If Mrs. Clinton had still been in residence, Marnie would still be working as low man on the totem pole in Clinton’s law firm. “Hello,” Jackson said, holding on to the phone with a steady hand despite the building pressure in his balls. Marnie was a good little cock sucker and well worth the exorbitant amount of money he paid her. He dropped his other hand into his lap, playing with her long, thick hair, stretching his legs a little to get more comfortable. “Yes, I hope you’ve retrieved my errant wife,” he said softly into the phone. He listened as the man on the other end spoke quickly, his tone one of subservience. The only sign of his rising anger was the fist that was now clamped in Marnie’s hair, pulling roughly at the tousled curls.
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Wendy Stone But she knew better than to make any protest, her eyes tearing as she felt the roots give. She continued sucking, feeling his cock swell in her mouth, though he made no other sign she was giving him any kind of pleasure at all. “Let me put it this way, I want Shanna in my office on Saturday morning. If she is not here, there will be hell to pay, do you understand me?” He paused, listening to the answer while the hand on the phone turned white with the effort it was costing him to control his temper. “Good, make it happen, or else.” He clicked off the phone, tossing it back on the windowsill, his fist opening in her hair. With a sigh, he plucked the wad of hair out of his palm, slipping it into the trash can next to his desk. “Stand up!” he ordered Marnie curtly. Marnie did as she was told, carefully wiping her mouth and the tears in her eyes without wrecking her makeup. “Yes sir?” she asked quietly, always the genteel lady Jackson demanded. “I want to fuck you,” he said, as if asking her to get him a file. “Pull up your skirt.” She did, exposing a pair of sleek thighs and the tiny vee of well trimmed curls he liked her to have on her sex. “Very nice, my dear.” His hand reached out and he slapped her thighs apart roughly. It exposed the bruises she still bore on the inside of her thighs, from the last time. He’d thrown her on his desk, his hip bones digging cruelly into her soft flesh, enjoying the pain he’d caused her after the last two men he’d sent out after his wife had failed. His palm slid up the inside of her thigh and he brutally pinched her, almost sending her to her knees in front of him again. “Are you wet for me?” he asked, his hand slipping over the soft flesh of her pussy. His fingers dug in deep, poking at the semi dry flesh between her thighs. “Make yourself wet for me, or I’ll fuck you like this,” he ordered her. He laughed as her hand instantly went to her clit, her other hand holding her plump lips apart. She moved her hand desperately over the smooth flesh of her clit, frantic to bring herself to a state of arousal, knowing he’d hurt her otherwise and enjoy it. There was a knock on the door and her hands stilled for an instant as the sound startled her. “You know better, Marnie. Keep going,” he said gently. “Come in!” 104
Heaven In Her Eyes “Sir, your tuxedo has arrived and is pressed and on your bed, ready for you,” his butler and houseman, Lawrence, said. He looked over at Marnie as she stood, baring her sleek hips and playing with herself. “Shall I bring the lubricant, sir?” “No, I don’t think it will be necessary, Lawrence. But perhaps you can help me out here,” he said, knowing nothing would bother Marnie more, than the sixty-something year old manservant touching her. “Certainly sir, how may I be of service?” Lawrence moved across the room, his face carefully blank. After working for the Clintons for the past forty years, nothing any of them could do would ever surprise him, especially when it came from this Clinton. Jackson seemed to have gotten a huge share of the deviant genes. “Move behind Marnie and help her to keep her skirt up please, Lawrence. It must be tiring for her to hold the thing up herself.” “At your service, sir,” Lawrence said, carefully pulling his gloves taut before he reached around the half-naked woman, his hands carefully pinching the hem of her skirt and holding it well above her waist. “See now, Marnie?” Jackson asked as if he were doing her a favor. “Isn’t that much better?” “Y…yes sir,” Marnie breathed hoarsely, though in truth she felt a tingle of disgust for what she knew was coming. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d shared her with other men, and perhaps if she’d had a shred of respect and decency, she would be embarrassed by what Jackson forced on her. But she liked money, she also liked being on his arm during the prestigious events he was invited to, as she liked the attention it afforded her. She hurried her pace, hoping against hope that she could possibly make herself come. It was always so hard when Jackson was in these kinds of moods. Only if she could come once, would she not mind the perversions he liked so much. “Hmm,” Jackson said, sitting back, his hand slowly stroking his cock, still wet with her saliva. “Perhaps you need some more help, Marnie. You seem to be struggling.” He looked over her shoulder where he could see his servant. “Lawrence, please remove Miss Lombard’s blouse.” The white gloved fingers moved with diligent dexterity over the straining buttons that held Marnie’s red silk blouse closed. He pulled it down, forcing her hands away from her pussy to strip it completely off 105
Wendy Stone her body, leaving her clad in a red silk camisole, her breasts heaving against the soft material. Jackson, let his eyes wander, enjoying the sight of Marnie’s breasts, the hard tips pushing against the silk. She wasn’t wearing a bra under the camisole. No undergarments were allowed here at his estate and she knew it. Reaching out his hand, he grasped the top of the camisole, pulling gently. “What is this, Marnie? Did you forget this is a definite faux pas while you are a guest of my home?” He yanked a little harder almost throwing her off balance in the tiny heeled shoes she was wearing. “It isn’t a bra, sir,” she tried to explain, but he yanked even harder, the delicate material splitting at the tiny straps that held it up, ripping through the seam. “It’s worn under your clothing and it keeps your body from my sight, it isn’t allowed, okay?” Jackson tipped his fair head, the light coming in from the window touching the tips of his blonde hair and turning them golden, almost as if he had a halo around his head. He was the biggest of contradictions—the angelic good looks, the fine features and pale blue eyes, the hard body rigidly exercised to keep its appearance, all combined to make him seem perfect and good. But the person inside was something else. That person was cruel, hard and without a bit of mercy. He knew what he wanted and he would get it one way or another, no matter whose grave had to be dug to get it. Now he wanted to see Marnie humiliated and cowed. He knew exactly what would do it. “Lawrence, Miss Lombard has very nice breasts, doesn’t she?” “Certainly, sir,” Lawrence said, his eyes roaming over the smooth, rounded globes. “Lawrence, would you care to feel Miss Lombard’s breast?” Jackson watched Marnie’s face closely, seeing the moue of distaste, she quickly hid. He raised his brows at that look and watched as she flushed, a touch of anger turning her brown eyes almost black. “If it would please you sir,” Lawrence said, slowly pulling off one white glove. His hands were wide and coarse, the fingers stubby. His palms were calloused from the work he did. He folded the glove carefully, sliding it inside the belt that was on his uniform. He stepped back up behind Marnie, watching her hands for a moment as she furiously frigged her sweet little pussy, her breathing ragged causing her breasts to jiggle enticingly. With careful fingers, he 106
Heaven In Her Eyes slid his hand across her breast, tightening his fingers at a nod from Jackson, squeezing and kneading at the sweet globe. “Pretty nice for non-augmented; aren’t they, Lawrence? I offered to pay for her to get them bigger, but I’m glad she decided against it.” “Very nice, sir,” Lawrence replied, sliding his fingers off until he held just one of the plump brown nipples. He twisted it, hearing the young woman moan, gasping as she arched involuntarily into his fingers. A smile was hidden behind his calm demeanor, for he knew what his boss had in mind next. “Would you like to fuck her, Lawrence?” “If that is your wish, sir,” Lawrence replied. He played with the soft breast for a moment longer, his fingers twisting and pulling on her hard nipple. “May I, sir?” he asked, arching a brow and glancing down at her busy hands. “Be my guest,” Jackson said. His hands kept caressing his cock, never hurrying. He would be done with Marnie after this, she’d begun to be a bit of a bore. He wanted a bit more fight from his women, someone who wouldn’t always give in so easily to his games. Marnie obediently dropped her hands to her sides, as Lawrence slid his large calloused hand down over the skirt bunched at her waist. He trailed it over the fine skin of her abdomen and then across the tiny patch of curls at the top of her sex. She felt his thick finger slip between her swollen pussy lips, gliding into the wetness she’d produced. Lawrence quickly shed his other glove, coming to stand even closer to Marnie’s back, his hard cock pressing between the bare globes of her ass. She could feel it there, a long, wide ridge, rubbing against her lewdly. His feet were pressed between hers, spreading her legs even further. “Miss, if you wouldn’t mind, could you please take out my cock?” he asked, as he played with her nipple with one hand, his other slowly pushing inside her wet pussy, finger fucking her even as she gasped. “Oh, Lawrence, Marnie isn’t used to being treated so cordially,” Jackson laughed, his eyes on his assistant’s face. She was hating this even as her body responded to the servant and his hands. She was despising every moment he touched her. “Marnie, do it now,” he said, almost gently. “B…but…yes, sir,” she said, defeated. She would do what he wanted. Not doing it was never an option anyway and she knew it. Reaching back she deftly undid the older man’s pants, reached into the opening in 107
Wendy Stone the front of his shorts and pulled out his cock. It was long and hard, bigger than Jackson’s, the head feeling huge in her hands. “Bend over now,” Jackson said, reaching up with his free hand and guiding her down so that her face was back in his lap, her mouth back on his cock. “No hands, Marnie, you know how I like it done.” She instantly put her hands on her knees, feeling Lawrence lift her skirt in the back, the cool air rushing over the hot cheeks of her ass. He licked his palm and then slapped her once, his hand connecting with her pale skin, leaving a red mark the shape of his hand, making her squeal around Jackson’s cock. Then she felt him moving the head of his cock, probing into her wetness, finding her passage and pressing inside. He stretched her wide around his massive head, making her squeal again. It had been so long since anyone but Jackson had fucked her, so she was used to his cock. The one pushing inside her now was twice the size. Normally, Jackson’s friends would play with her, touch her, but this was the first time she’d been made to fuck one. She’d always be on her knees, sucking them off. Jackson watched as Lawrence pushed inside of her. He reached down and grabbed a fistful of her hair, using it to move her head as he wished, fucking her mouth with his cock. “How does it feel, Marnie?” Marnie tried to answer but she couldn’t, Jackson wouldn’t let her move her mouth off him. Lawrence had filled her with his cock and she felt the slight burning of stretched muscles as he pulled almost all the way out. She could feel every vein and bump on his cock, feel it throbbing as he pushed back in. “Finish me off,” Jackson said, growing bored now. He’d hoped Marnie would put up a fight, show some spirit, some spunk. But she’d acquiesced like all the rest of them, willing to put up with almost anything to keep a hold of him. He sighed, feeling her mouth tighten around him, feeling the suction and the wetness around his cock. He watched them fuck as Marnie brought him closer to his peak, his face never changing its expression. Lawrence was hammering into her, his hips hitting her ass hard on every thrust. He had a hold of her hips, pulling her back and into him, grunting every time he pushed inside of her. Jackson watched the flesh on Marnie’s ass jiggle with each thrust. With a small grunt, he came in her mouth, never showing a sign of his pleasure as he spewed his semen into her. He felt her swallow, and then continue to suck, swirling her tongue around his already softening 108
Heaven In Her Eyes cock and cleaning it. When he’d had enough, he lifted her head by her hair, looking into her face as he gave Lawrence an order. “I have business to attend to now, Lawrence. Be so kind as to take Marnie with you as you leave. You may keep her for the afternoon if you wish. Consider it a bonus for a job well done.” He smiled gently, stroking her cheek as he watched the disbelief in her glazed eyes. “When you are done with her, have her packed up and sent back to D.C. for me.” He bent closer to her face. “Your severance pay will be delivered to your home, Marnie. Please do not try to contact me. I would find that…tiresome.” He kissed her on the cheek before dropping her hair, using the same hand in a shooing motion, dismissing his servant. Lawrence picked her up around the waist, his cock never leaving the snug home of her pussy. “Thank you sir,” he said, bowing graciously while still holding her. Then he turned, walking out of the room. Marnie didn’t make a sound until they were almost out of the room. Then her screams of indignation and rage could be heard throughout the house, only to be cut off sharply as the slamming of a door sounded. Jackson sighed again, sliding his soft cock back inside his pants and zipping up. “It was just too bad, Marnie, that you couldn’t have shown some of that spunk sooner.” He reached over and grabbed his cell phone, dialing the number for his driver. He could take Marnie back to D.C. when Lawrence was finished with her. A thought struck him and he smiled, the expression like that of a snake staring at a tasty rabbit. If he remembered correctly, James had a pretty college aged daughter, a brunette. Perhaps she’d like some help paying for her schooling he thought, listening as his driver picked up the phone on the second ring. **** Shanna sat down in the waiting area of Maggie Shane’s office, her stomach in nervous knots. So much had happened in the past two days; she felt a little shell-shocked. She smiled at Brandon, as he sat beside her. He picked up her hand and played idly with her fingers as they waited. The waiting room was almost like an extension of Maggie herself. Elegant and sophisticated with bright colors and interesting pictures, it also gave off a sense of comfort. It was a place where you could sit and feel at ease, as if knowing Maggie would solve your problems. 109
Wendy Stone Maggie exuded that same kind of emotion, confident and direct; she approached matters head on when necessary and wasn’t afraid to go to battle if it was what her client needed. She had the reputation as a shark, lethal in a courtroom, and could have easily gone into criminal law and made a mint. She’d told Brandon once—on one of their long ago dates—she enjoyed working for her clients, getting to know them, to learn about their lives, not just about their divorce settlements. Most attorneys were too busy making the all mighty buck, but Maggie wanted to know the person she was representing. That was why she never had a problem spending time with a client who only needed to talk. She came out of her office, stunning in a black skirt that showed off her long legs, and a creamy white blouse open at the throat. A small diamond pendant rested in the hollow of her neck and her gorgeous auburn colored hair was loose, pulled back from her face by plain gold clips. Her eyes were distorted somewhat by the horned rimmed glasses she wore and she pulled them from her face, holding her hand out to Shanna. “I don’t know what you’re doing with this guy,” she said joking as she smiled a greeting at Brandon. “He’s trouble.” “Hey, Maggie, don’t go telling tales unless you want some of your own told. I think I still have Chris’s phone number somewhere.” He leaned down and kissed her cheek. “You look fantastic. Chris must be good for you.” Maggie almost seemed to glow when her husband’s name was brought up and she nodded. “He’s been very good to me. Having a famous chef for a husband means I get to try out all his experiments. I’m glad he’s working on a low calorie menu right now, my skirts were getting too tight.” She stepped back, sweeping her hand out to allow them to precede her into her office. “Did Ashley ask if you wanted coffee or anything?” “We’re fine, to tell you the truth, Maggie, my stomach is too knotted up to be able to eat or drink anything.” Shanna sat down in one of the red leather chairs across from Maggie’s desk and looked around the office. It always amazed her how comfortable she felt in here. Most law offices were stodgy, with dark colors and files and papers all over. Maggie’s desk was clear except for one file in the center of her blotter. The walls behind her were covered floor to ceiling, with oak book 110
Heaven In Her Eyes shelves, law books and heavy looking tomes were interspersed with graceful vases and colorful knickknacks. She had a huge oak desk and sat in comfortable looking chair behind it. A bar was folded open against the wall, well stocked with heavy cut glass decanters. On another wall were a comfortable looking sofa and two chairs, grouped together around an oak coffee table. A hand knit throw was tossed across one end. It had the look of a feminine library but would be comfortable in a man’s perspective as well. Brandon sat next to her, picked up Shanna’s hand and held it in his own. He saw Maggie look at their joined hands and saw the smile she tried to hide behind a professional façade. “What happened to your face, Brandon?” she asked, “I hope it doesn’t have anything to do with your husband, Shanna?” “No, well, not directly. I sort of ran into her brother’s fist,” he said, flushing as Maggie laughed. “Ran into a fist, a nice way to put it, Brandon. If I know you, you probably deserved it,” she chuckled. “So tell me, what has that husband of yours been up to now, Shanna?” she asked, sitting down in her chair and setting her glasses on her desk. Shanna took the papers from her purse, and handed them to her. Maggie picked up her glasses, slid them onto her nose and stared at the papers for a minute. Then she snorted, shaking her head. “I’ll call the court house in D.C., Shanna, but I don’t think you have anything to worry about. Most judges look at these and laugh.” “Most?” “Shanna, I can’t tell you for sure what kind of judge we’re going to get, but because the divorce was filed here in Texas, it will go to court here in Texas. Any judge I can think of would throw this out without a second glance. Your divorce is pretty cut and dried and if it weren’t for the roadblocks Jackson keeps throwing at us, would have been over with by now.” “Isn’t there any way to facilitate a quicker decision? You know, work around him instead of through him?” Brandon asked. “He still has to sign the papers, Brandon, no matter what.” Brandon sighed. Then with a quick look at Shanna, he told Maggie everything that had been happening in the past two days. He started with the holdup at the bank and ended with the guys showing up at his place earlier. “We’ve been lucky, she hasn’t been alone during any of 111
Wendy Stone those times they tried. If she’d been alone…” His voice trailed off as he felt a surge of panic. If she’d been alone, he would have lost her. Now he knew how Hunt had felt when Sebastian Antonelli had taken off with Angel. He’d been crazed—raving at Brandon, cursing Sebastian. He’d even taken a swing at one of the agents that had helped to capture the henchmen Sebastian had sent after them. His grip tightened on Shanna’s hand as he thought of what his life would be without her. Empty. Cold. Alone. Maggie stared at him. She reached out, hitting a button on her phone. “Grace? I need you to call San Antonio PD and get the police reports for the last two days on anything that has to do with Shanna Clinton. Then I need to speak to Judge Carver. Buzz me when you get his office on the phone, okay?” “What are you up to Maggie?” Brandon asked. “We’re going to get a TRO on your husband, Shanna.” “But we have no proof he’s behind any of this,” Shanna said. “That’s where Rylie and I come in, Shanna,” Brandon said. “Jackson screwed up. We have two of his guys in lockup right now. We get one of them talking and then, we’ve got Jackson sewn up.” Shanna looked up at him, a hint of hope in her amazing eyes. “Can you do that?” “Want to watch?” he asked, smiling at her. “I think I can get you a seat behind the mirror, if you want?” Shanna’s eyes sparkled. “I’ve always wanted to watch you work.” “Brandon, if you can get these guys to roll on Jackson Clinton, do you know what kind of worm can you’ll be opening?” Maggie asked him, amazed at how he almost seemed to be rubbing his hands in glee. “The best kind, Maggie,” he said. “The one where all the bad guys go to prison.” They spoke for a few minutes more until Maggie’s call came through. Brandon bent and kissed her cheek as she waited for the judge to be put on the line. “Thanks, Mags,” he whispered, “for taking care of her.” He waited for her to finish with the judge, sighing in relief when Maggie gave them the thumbs up. Now whatever Clinton did would be held against him if they had the right proof.
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Heaven In Her Eyes Maggie hung up the phone. “I’ll get the paperwork filed today. You two have to come over for dinner some night soon. I’ll make sure Chris is cooking,” she joked, making him laugh. “It’s a date.”
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Chapter Eleven Shanna waved and they left the office. Brandon’s mood was exuberant. He was finally going to be able to go to work again. Not even the pain in his eye or the strained muscles from the accident, were going to bother him today. “Ready to go shopping?” he asked Shanna, swinging her hand in his as they headed down the sidewalk towards the parking structure and her car. Brandon pulled into the huge parking lot outside of the Ingram Park Mall, grimacing as he saw the amount of cars parked outside. Only for Shanna would he brave a busy mall in the middle of a weekday afternoon. He drove around for a few minutes, finally finding a decently close parking spot and drove Shanna’s car in. With a huge sigh, he turned off the car and pocketed the keys, hearing Shanna’s tinkling laugh as she saw him eyeing the huge building. “Shopping phobia?” she asked him, unbuckling her seat belt and leaning close to him, letting her hand rest on his thigh. “Phobia, no, outright terror is more like it,” he said, the muscles in his thigh tightening as her fingers traced an arousing pattern over the material of his jeans. “Maybe I can make you forget your terror,” she whispered, her other hand sliding up to his cheek to draw him down for a kiss. She felt the corners of his mouth tip up in a smile before his hand slid up her back, cupping the nape of her neck, turning her head to deepen the kiss. His lips parted, his tongue dipping into her mouth. He felt her hand slip from his cheek, burrowing into his hair, her fingers kneading his scalp as she moaned under his lips. He kissed her until she was breathless and pulled away from him with a gasp. 114
Heaven In Her Eyes “I love you, baby,” he whispered, dropping his forehead gently against hers. “I never thought to find love,” she said softly. “It always seemed to be just beyond me. Something I saw with other people, but never for myself.” She sighed softly. “But I do love you, Brandon Austin.” He smiled, kissed her again, pulling her soft body against his as well as he could in the front seat of the small car. When he hit his knee on the door, he growled softly, letting her go slowly. “Don’t lose my place, when we get home, I want to take up where I left off.” Brandon got out of the car, going around to her side. Shanna’s hand touched her lips, feeling them swollen and sensitive against her fingers. She was smiling when he opened the door and took his hand to let him help her out. She linked her arm in his, pulling him towards the building when he balked. “Big bad FBI agent afraid of a mall,” she scoffed, laughing. “It’s not the mall,” he said, matching her steps across the parking lot. “It’s the people in the mall. They’re all crazy.” “They are not,” she said, giggling. “They are. Have you ever seen two old ladies fighting over the last rolls of toilet paper in a big sale? These places are full of crazies and deviants.” He gave a fake shudder, enjoying her laughter. “I’ll protect you,” she laughed up at him, her eyes sparkling. Brandon’s breath caught in his chest, his heart seemed to swell. She was so beautiful, so alive and vivid. She was everything he’d ever wanted in his life. “What?” she said, staring around the parking lot as she saw his expression grow serious. “What’s wrong?” He pulled her closer as they stepped onto the curb outside the main entrance of the mall, guiding her over to the side. “Do you really want to know?” he asked. Shanna shifted her purse further up on her shoulder. “Yes, I want to know.” His hand cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing gently at her soft skin. He stared down into the amber eyes that stared back up at him so trustingly. “I never want to lose you,” he said softly, his other hand tracing up and down her arm. “I want you to move in with me.” “You…you want me to move in?” she gasped, shocked. “I…I don’t know what to say.” 115
Wendy Stone He tried to control the disappointment he felt, smiling ruefully. “If you don’t want to…I mean, I can understand…” Her hand came up, her fingers pressing against her mouth feeling his lips pucker into a kiss against them. “Shh,” she said. “I didn’t say I didn’t want to. It…It’s just that it’s kind of quick.” “My mother and father met each other right before dad was shipped to Viet Nam. She met him on a double date. they were each dating other people. He was from a different state than her but had relatives he visited on a regular basis. He saw her one night as she was coming out of the pharmacy she worked at. They went out the next night and then one more time before he had to go home. Before he left to go to boot camp, he came up and gave mom a ring. They were married the next weekend.” He smiled at the memory of his parents. “They held hands at the dinner table. Dad used to walk up behind mom when she was doing dishes and wrap his arms around her.” “That’s beautiful,” she said, smiling. “You don’t have to answer me now,” he said quickly, before she could stop him. “We’ll just leave it as an open invitation.” “Okay,” she said, though she knew in her heart she wanted to be with him. “Now you’ve stalled long enough,” she laughed as she saw the look on his face. “Nice try.” He straightened his back, set his shoulders and put a determined look on his face. Taking a deep breath, he looked down at her. “Okay, I’m ready. I think.” “Come on, you big baby,” she laughed. She dragged him through the glass doors, hearing the canned music circulating throughout the huge building. It was playing an instrumental version of Raindrops Keep Falling On My Head. There were people milling around, moving from store to store and it smelled faintly like the leather coats on display at Wilson’s Leather. Brandon caught up with her and they spent the next few minutes going from store to store, looking in the windows. She finally drew him into one of the small women’s stores. “You know, if you wanted to go check out something more…manly, I’ll be fine on my own,” she said, seeing the look in his eyes as she was standing inspecting some bras. “You aren’t getting out of my sight. I don’t trust Jackson won’t try it again.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Besides, I thought maybe I 116
Heaven In Her Eyes could talk you into making a trip to Victoria’s Secret,” he said, leering at her. “You might be able to,” she laughed. “But only if you are a very good boy.” “When am I not?” He wandered over to a table only a few feet from her, picking up a tiny pair of red silk panties. There was a lace insert in the front and the sides were mere strips of silk covered elastic. He lifted the price tag and thought for sure his eyes had bulged out at the price. “What?” she asked him, coming over with a couple of bras in her hands. “Oh those are pretty, but I don’t think they’ll have them in your size, Brandon.” “Oh you’d be surprised,” said the sales clerk, a bubbly little blonde with big blue eyes and a name tag that read ‘Heather.’ “I’ve fitted other men for them. Of course, I’d never take you for a red silk type of guy. I’d have gone for the more traditional black satin.” She held up a thong, the material shining almost blue in the harsh lights over head. “Not even in your wildest dreams,” he said to Shanna when she stepped back as if imagining what he’d look like in them. Heather laughed, her hand coming up to cover her mouth. “Can I start a fitting room for you?” she asked between giggles. “Yeah, you’d better,” Brandon said, picking up a black satin pair the size he thought would fit Shanna. His eyes roamed over her and she felt a blush rise up her cheeks. Brandon followed her around the store, finally sitting down in a chair outside her fitting room while she tried on some of the clothing. “You are going to model for me, aren’t you?” “Maybe,” she called through the door, unbuttoning the white blouse that was beginning to show signs of wear and tear. She slipped out of her skirt, and pulled on a red and white patterned dress, the skirt falling just above her knees. It zipped in the back and she managed, barely, to get it fastened, turning in front of the mirror. It clung to her body, outlining her breasts and flowing tightly to her slender waist before flaring out again. The neckline was scooped, showing off a goodly amount of her cleavage as well as the long line of her neck. Taking a deep breath, she opened the door to the fitting room, amused to find Brandon with his head tipped back and his eyes closed. “Got over your phobia pretty quickly, I see.” 117
Wendy Stone He opened one eye narrowly, studying her before opening the other, his expression telling her what he thought of the fit of the dress. “Wow,” he breathed. “You like?” she asked him, spinning a saucy circle that had the skirt flaring up to show her slender thighs. “If I liked any more, it’d be indecent.” She laughed as she glanced down at the bulge growing in his jeans. “Has anyone ever told you, Mr. Austin, that you are a sex maniac?” “No one has ever affected me this way, Ms. Clinton, but you.” He stood, his fingers slipping to the scooped neckline, tracing the rounded curve of her breasts that filled it. “I want to fuck you, Shanna,” he said softly. For just a moment, a look of fear came to her eyes as she thought of what had been done to her, but then they cleared, for this was Brandon. He’d never hurt her. Or maybe he would but in all the right and best of ways. She shivered at the thought, her eyes growing heavy with her own desire. “Quit tempting me, Shanna,” he groaned, turning her and sending her back into the dressing room as another woman came in, smiling as she looked over Brandon’s tall rangy body. Shanna closed the door, her heart beating loudly in her ears. The expression in his gorgeous green eyes had the blood pounding through her veins and her nipples hardening against the soft fabric of the dress. “Damn,” she sighed, trying to ignore the throbbing between her thighs, the feeling of emptiness there in her sex. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror, her cheeks flushed, her breasts rising and falling quickly in her agitation. He could do that to her, make her look like this with just a few words. Shaking herself mentally, she reached behind her to pull down the zipper. It stuck. She yanked harder, afraid she’d rip the fabric if she tried too hard, but the stubborn thing wouldn’t move. Her arms were aching from being held in the same position as she tried to feel with her fingers what was keeping the zipper from moving. Finally, she gave up. “Brandon,” she called, opening the door and motioning him in. “The zipper is stuck, could you…” She gave him a small smile, turning her back and pulling her long braid over her shoulder. Brandon reached for the zipper and saw the material was caught in its metal teeth. With careful fingers, he pried it carefully out of the slider 118
Heaven In Her Eyes before slowly unzipping the dress down the smooth silkiness of her back. Her soft skin appeared between the two halves of the red dress and he couldn’t resist reaching in. He stroked the smooth silkiness of her back, stopping at the band of her bra, before continuing lower where the dress met again at her slender waist. Shanna moaned softly, suddenly feeling his lips against her back, the heat of his tongue slipping over her skin. She shivered at the sensation, her hand coming up to press against the back wall of the dressing room. “What are you doing?” she moaned, feeling his hand slide inside the dress, slipping over her smooth flat stomach and pulling her close so she was pressed against him. “Helping you out of this dress,” he whispered, his breath hot in her ear. He ran his tongue around the soft whorl, flicking it over her earlobe, sucking the temptingly soft flesh into his mouth and nibbling on it. “But…” she groaned as his hand slid from her stomach, over the ladder of her ribs and flicked open the front clasp on her bra, slipping under the cup and over the mound of her breast to peal away the fabric. “There are…oh…other people, Brandon,” she tried to protest. “Then I guess you should be very quiet,” he moaned, tipping her chin and finding her lips at the same time as his hand found the taut bud resting atop the smooth flesh of her breast. He twisted it gently, hearing her harsh gasp, feeling it against his mouth. He pulled the front of the dress down her arm, exposing her soft breasts to his eyes in the mirror in front of her. “God, you are beautiful,” he hissed. Shanna felt the dress fall, staying at her waist only because of his body pressed so closely behind her. She opened her eyes and saw his green gaze burning into her, as he ran his hands down her body. His face was tight with need, his eyes brilliant with emotion, as heat poured from him and into her. Her legs felt weak, and grew weaker as his hand made a return trip, down to her waist and beyond, slipping beneath the waistline of the dress and sliding under the band of her panties. Brandon moved back, letting the dress slide from her body to fall at their feet, wanting to see his hand against her body, to watch and know she watched also as he pleasured her, driving her as mad with need for him as he felt right now. Theirs was a forbidden thrill, knowing the thin walls of the dressing room did little to disguise any noise they made. Knowing other women were just feet away from where he stood, his 119
Wendy Stone finger buried in the heat of her pussy, her mouth open as she watched him, gasping with pleasure. “Take off your panties,” he whispered. “Take them off and hand them to me.” He heard her moan even though she tried to stifle the sound. Her hands went to the elastic that was pulled tight across his wrist, her fingers trembling as she tried to do his wishes. She pushed them down, bending slightly at the waist and feeling him move back to the doorway, giving her room, though he refused to move his hand. Her ass pressed into his groin and she felt the rigid proof of his need, rubbing against her as she lifted first one foot and then the other, finally handing him the damp panties. She was naked but for the bra that hung loose from her shoulders, pressed against his clothed form. She watched as he looked down at the small white crumple of material she handed him, saw the dark smile that crept across his lips as he pushed it inside the pocket of his jacket. “Mine now,” he whispered, his eyes roving over the beauty of her slender form now bare to his gaze. His hand was pressed to the curls at the apex of her thighs, his fingers buried inside of her, thrusting gently in the wetness of her sex. “I’m going to fuck you, Shanna,” he moaned against her ear. “Right here, right now.” She felt his free hand fumble between their bodies, heard the almost loud sound of his zipper as it parted. Then she felt his cock, hot and hard, pressing against her. “Put your hands on the mirror,” he ordered, his feet moving between hers, pushing her legs open. His fingers left her pulsing sex, making her feel empty, drawing a moan from her lips. Then she felt him, hot―hard, pushing slowly inside of her from behind, stretching her delicate flesh until she gasped with the pleasure-pain of it. His hand pushed gently on her shoulders, bending her slightly forward, pushing deeper inside of her. In the mirror, his eyes met hers, green meshing with amber his searching, hers answering unspoken questions. He found what he wanted in her eyes. Groaning so softly she could barely hear it, he started to thrust inside of her with long slow strokes that threatened her sanity. When her moans grew in intensity as his thrust drove her ever closer to the point of ecstasy, he wrapped his arm around her slender waist, drawing her up and back, his hand closed across her mouth, stifling the sound. “Shh,” he ordered hoarsely, “you don’t want them to hear.” 120
Heaven In Her Eyes In the background, Shanna could hear women talking, chatty voices that rose and fell as they passed the door behind which they were now entangled. She heard Heather as she brought a different size garment for another woman and handed it to her. Then heard her knock softly on the door next to theirs, before she knocked on her door. Brandon moved his hand, whispering in her ear. “Answer her, baby,” he hissed, never missing a single stroke as he continued to thrust into her gently. “Y…yes,” she managed to get out. “Everything all right? Do you need a different size in something?” Heather asked solicitously. “N…no, still working on this p…pile,” Shanna gasped. “Thanks, th...though.” “Just yell if you need help,” she said, her voice cheery. “God,” Shanna groaned. Her body moved against his, desperately begging for what she needed to push her past the peak. “What do you want, baby?” he growled. “Tell me.” She grabbed his hand, dragging it down her body, pressing his fingers between the plump lips of her pussy. “Please,” she hissed, her voice so low he almost missed it. “Do you want me to play with your clit?” he whispered the words in her ear, his teeth biting gently against the petal soft shell. “Tell me,” he said again, his fingers lying still even as she sought to move against them. “Y…yes,” she begged, unashamed at how she responded to him. Jackson had made her beg, but his words had been degrading. He’d made her beg him to stop the pain, to stop the beatings, to let her suck his cock instead of fucking her ass. He’d hurt her in ways too terrible to remember, but all of it paled beside Brandon and the power of what he made her feel. “Play with it,” she begged, barely remembering to lower her voice. He flexed his finger, dipping into heat and wetness, finding the small knot of flesh that would bring her pleasure. His finger circled the small button, pressed against it gently, feeling her body tense. “Are you going to come?” he groaned even as he felt his balls tighten. “Tell me baby,” he ordered softly. “So close,” she moaned, her hands coming up to play with her nipples, his gaze on that erotic sight. He watched as she wet her fingers 121
Wendy Stone in her mouth, stroking them over the hard buds, her head falling back to rest against his shoulder. “God, baby, that’s so hot,” he moaned, his hips moving faster, only his clothing muffling the sound of their coupling. His fingers flew against her clit, and he watched as she arched against him, her mouth opening. His hand flew to her mouth, his fingers smelling like her, pressing against her cheek as he muffled the sound of her pleasure. He buried his mouth in her neck to stifle his own, as his body caught in the midst of her spasm, clenched in agonizing pleasure, emptying himself into her in thick spurts. His knees felt weak, and he braced himself against the wall, holding her up with his arm wrapped around her waist. His breath hissed in and out of his lungs and he strained to slow his heart, feeling as if it would pound its way right out of his chest. Shanna leaned limply against him, her eyes closed, her breathing as ragged as his. She could smell their scent in the air around them and wondered if they’d be discovered and arrested for doing something like this. Her ears strained to hear any sign of outraged voices or discovery, but she realized it all was normal, the voices continued chatting, the women moved in and out of the dressing room area. “You’re crazy,” she whispered finally, turning her head to look up at him. “Crazy about you,” he whispered back, kissing her quickly. He pulled out of her, hearing her small moan. “Think you should get dressed, baby?” he whispered, quickly stuffing his cock back in his pants and fastening them. “Someone might get the idea you were trying to seduce me if they see you like that.” “Ha ha, funny.” She narrowed her eyes at him and held out her hand. “Un uh, those are mine,” he whispered. “Brandon,” she said, her voice lowering in warning. “Spoil sport,” he muttered, then he saw traces of his semen running down her legs and realized her predicament. Reaching in his pocket, he pulled them out, handing them to her. “I kind of like that,” he whispered, before letting her go. “I’ve marked you as mine.” “Get out of here,” she ordered him, though her voice never rose above the whisper she’d been using. He opened the door, checking to see if anyone was around before slipping out and sitting back in the chair he’d recently vacated. As he did, Heather came around the corner. 122
Heaven In Her Eyes “Where’d you come from?” she asked him, her voice friendly. “Stuck zipper,” he said, crossing his arms and trying to hide his grin. Heather glanced at the door and then back at Brandon, her eyes running over the long length of him with an appreciative eye. “Lucky girl to have you around to unstick it for her,” she said with a knowing grin, before turning and walking out of the room again. Shanna opened the door soon after, holding the pile of clothes in her hand, including the red dress, which she’d picked up. She blushed as she looked over at him, seeing the lazy male smile that made her go all gooey inside. “Come on,” she said. “You aren’t going to try anything else on?” he asked innocently. “No,” she said shortly and did her best to glare at him but a contented smile hovered over her lips. “They’ll fit.” She dropped the pile at the register and then reached into her purse to yank out her billfold. “Shanna,” he started to say but she glared at him and he subsided, letting her pay for her clothes. He watched as Heather folded everything, including a pair of the red silk panties and the black thong. Then he turned into pack mule, hauling the bags for her as they walked back out into the main area of the mall. She stopped in a shoe store, picking up a cheap pair of tennis shoes and a package of socks. Then they went into Walmart, so that she could pick up makeup, deodorant and a package of the plain cotton bikini panties she had on. It wasn’t until they were leaving Walmart, he noticed the two men. Both were young, early twenties and seemed to be keeping an eye on Shanna. They followed them through the crowded mall, slowing when Brandon slowed, pretending to look in windows. “We’ve got company,” he said slowly to Shanna. “Behind us, don’t look around. I’m going to give you part of these bags so I can get my gun hand free. I want you to take them and the car keys, okay, baby?” “Why? What do you have planned?” Shanna took the bags he handed her as well as her keys, keeping them in her hand. “Don’t do anything stupid, Brandon, they probably have guns too.” “I won’t do anything stupid. But I am going to find out how they always seem to know where we are. When we walk outside, I want you to go straight to the car, I’ll be right behind you.” “But Brandon,” she began, only to be interrupted as he growled at her. 123
Wendy Stone “Don’t worry, I’ll be fine. I need to know you’re okay. You get in the car, lock the doors until you see me coming. If someone else comes up, you get in the driver’s seat and you get out of there, go to the police, got me. If not them, go see Rylie, she’ll take care of you until I can get there.” Shanna looked up at him, her gold eyes haunted with worry. She wanted to argue with him, she wanted to force him to come with her but she knew he wouldn’t. Instead, she stood on tiptoe, her hand on his chest. “I love you,” she said softly, her eyes searching his. “If anything happens to you…” Her voice trailed off and her hand slid into his hair, drawing his mouth down to hers. Her lips clung to his and she felt his free hand come around her waist, hauling her up against him. When he lifted his head, she opened her eyes, hers sparkling with worry. “I’ll be okay, baby,” he whispered. “Now come on, I want to get you home.” The main entrance was close and she looked towards it, a feeling of dread in her stomach. Something was going to go wrong, she knew it. She wanted to grab Brandon and beg him to change his mind, but she knew he was set to do what he thought he had to. Taking a deep breath, she walked along beside him. Right before the main doors was a huge stand that sold pretzels and hand made lemonade. As usual, there was a big crowd around the stand, people waiting in line to buy some of the wonderful smelling pretzels. Brandon walked amidst them, swinging the bag he held loosely in his hand. He smiled at Shanna, giving her a nod that she knew meant she should go. She hit the door hard, flinging it open, keeping at a brisk walk, her keys in her hand. She held the remote in her fingers, her thumb on the lock button. There was a noise behind her, the sound of a heel hitting the pavement hard, steps hurrying to catch up with her. Without looking back, she hurried her step even more, jogging past the long line of cars, seeing her little grey Chevy, so close but still almost a life time away. She hit the button on the remote, hearing the click of the locks releasing. She grabbed hold of the door handle, her fingers fumbling as she tried to open the door. A heavy hand fell on her shoulder and she turned, a shriek coming from her lips, her hands coming up, ready to defend herself.
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Chapter Twelve Shanna gasped, twisting away from the hand that held her shoulder, swinging the bags and her purse she carried in a circle to hit her attacker with. “Hey!” shouted a familiar voice as tousled blonde hair and impish blue eyes appeared over the top of the bags. “Ouch!” “Oh, God, Rylie,” Shanna hissed. “You scared the hell out of me!” Her hand went to her breast where her heart was trying to beat its way out of her chest. “Don’t ever do that again!” Even as she spoke, she was looking behind Rylie, searching for any sign of Brandon. “Where’s Brandon?” Rylie asked, “And what do you have in that bag? Damn, it felt like a brick.” “Brandon saw two men following us in the store, he went to confront them. God, Rylie, we have to go back, something’s wrong. I can feel it.” “What’s wrong, little sister?” a deep male voice said as Dillon strolled up, his eyes lighting up as he saw Rylie’s long, lithe form. “Where’s your watch dog? I leave you two alone and he decides to let you go shopping by yourself?” Shanna felt her fear turning to anger and she turned on her brother. “Shut up. Brandon’s trying to find two men who were following us in the mall and while you’re standing here, picking on him and annoying me, he could be in trouble.” She punched her finger in to his chest. “So just shut the hell up, Dillon.” Dillon rubbed his chest where her finger had drilled into him. “Well, why the fuck didn’t you say so? Let’s go save lover boy’s life.” He turned, only stopping when Rylie grabbed his arm.
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Wendy Stone “Stay with your sister, keep an eye on her. I’ll go find my partner.” Rylie said, her hand lingering on the hard muscles of his forearm, unconsciously tightening around him. “Much as I’d like to, little one,” Dillon said, looking down at her. “I can’t. It’s just too much fun to embarrass the asshole. But you’re welcome to come with me.” “With us,” Shanna said, opening her car door and throwing her purse and the bags in the back seat before locking the door again. “You open that door back up and sit your ass in the car, Shanna Elizabeth Hunter.” Dillon stood over her, trying his best to intimidate her. Shanna just gave him a look that said, “Yeah right,” and started walking towards the mall doors. They were almost to the mall doors, Dillon cursing the entire way and trying to get Shanna to see reason, when they heard the sound of the first gun shot. Rylie pulled her pistol, running towards the mall doors, Shanna hot on her heels. Dillon reached behind his back, pulling his own pistol, a huge 9mm, from a concealed holster under his leather jacket. He caught up with the two women easily enough, dodging through the crowd of people who were fleeing from the mall. Shanna stood in the doorway, being bumped and pushed by the people in their rush to flee the gunfire, her eyes darting everywhere, searching for Brandon. She didn’t see him, but off to the side, down one of the service hallways, she saw the bag he’d been carrying. It was abandoned by the door, which was partially open. “Over there,” she shouted, pointing towards the door. Rylie pushed her way through the quickly depleting crowd, her eyes on the doorway. A huge shoulder jostled her, a man with more belly than brain slammed into her and she would have gone down but for the hand that grabbed her arm, yanking her back and out of the way of the mob. “God dammit!” she snarled, rubbing her aching shoulder and turning to the man who’d pulled her out. “Thanks.” “My pleasure,” Dillon almost purred, his hand snaking out to push a stray blonde tress back behind her ear. His fingers lingered, tangled in the silken softness, brushing sensually against the whorl of her ear. “Don’t mention it,” he murmured, bending closer to breathe in the scent of her perfume. 126
Heaven In Her Eyes Rylie felt the attraction between them almost like a hammer to her skull, startling and fast and nearly as painful. It slammed into her, leaving her breathless and weak, shivering under his touch. She saw his mouth, that lushly sensual mouth, moving closer, coming toward hers and couldn’t move. “Dillon! Rylie!” Shanna yelled. “Come on!” Dillon closed his eyes for a moment, as if trying to wake from a spell. When he opened his eyes, they were gold, his gaze hot. “Later,” he said softly, almost like a promise. Then he grabbed her hand, careful to leave her weapon hand free and pulled her forward. The door led down a long hallway into a service hallway that ran behind all the stores. It contained the fire exits as well as fire extinguishers and a single pay phone for use by employees of the mall only. Shanna ran down the first hall, hearing Dillon’s booted step and Rylie’s heels catching up quickly. At the end of the hall where it split off there was another door, this one closed. But Shanna could hear Brandon’s voice. “He’s down here, I can hear him,” she shouted, slamming into the door and bolting through it. “Shanna, stop!” Dillon shouted. But he was too late, she’d gone through the door, leaving it gaping wide open behind her. Shanna turned and stared one way down the long hallway and then the other, her eyes widening as she realized what she’d done. She was between Brandon and the two men who’d been following them, almost dead in the middle of a shoot out. “Oh shit,” she breathed. “Get down,” Brandon yelled, rushing forward. Rylie dived for Shanna, knocking her off her feet and to the ground, Dillon following her, dragged both women back behind the open door that provided a modicum of protection. He glared at Brandon who had fired again at the two men, forcing them to take cover in a small recessed doorway. “Great going, Austin,” he growled, giving Brandon a condemning look. Brandon ignored him, his eyes on the two men. “FBI,” he shouted. “Throw your weapons out and then come out with your hands over your head.” Rylie got her feet under her, crouching next to Brandon. “You heard him,” she said. “Weapons on the ground and come out with your fingers 127
Wendy Stone laced on top of your head. I’ve got San Antonio police on their way. The place is being surrounded. You have no hope of escaping.” There was silence for a few moments and Rylie thought they weren’t going to comply, but then she saw a hand sneak out of the recessed area, a gun being tossed onto the floor followed quickly by the other man’s gun. “We’re coming out!” one of the two men yelled. “Don’t shoot!” Rylie stood up and with Brandon holding his pistol on the two men, she secured them around a large water pipe with her pair of handcuffs. She searched them, pulling out their wallets. “Martin MacCloud and Rodney Donaldson. What are two nice boys like you doing carrying such big guns?” she asked sarcastically as Brandon carefully picked up the two revolvers. When she was met with blank stares, she shrugged her shoulders carelessly and dug her cell phone out of her purse. Hitting a speed dial number, she waited until the call connected. “Yeah, this is Special Agent Rylie Moore with the FBI. I need a radio car at the Ingram Mall just off the main entrance in the service hall. We’ve got shots fired, two in custody who need a ride.” “You didn’t call the police before?” one of the two men asked, his eyes huge. “Nah, didn’t have the time.” She winked at him. Turning to Brandon who was hanging on to the two revolvers after emptying the bullets into his pocket, she grabbed his arm. “You’ve been hit,” she snapped, yanking on the sleeve of his jacket despite Brandon’s protest. Shanna broke free of Dillon, hurrying to Brandon’s side. “You were shot? Where? Let me see?” “It’s nothing, a scratch at the most. Would you stop?” he snarled at Rylie who was poking at the wound where a bullet had taken a hunk of flesh from his upper arm. “Do you have a death wish?” she snarled right back, ripping the fabric of his jacket to expose the wound more. “This is twice I’ve had to come to your rescue today. You’re going to give me fucking gray hair.” “Enough. It’s fine.” He pulled free of Rylie’s not so gentle bedside manner and stalked over to the two suspects. “Who sent you?” Both men glanced at him before staring defiantly down the hall. “I asked you a question,” he snarled, stepping over and getting in the smaller of the two’s face. “Who sent you after her?” 128
Heaven In Her Eyes “We got a phone call,” the man said, jerking slightly away from his partner when the man turned and glared at him. “They offered fifteen thousand cash to have her kidnapped. As soon as we got her, we were supposed to call this number.” “Shut the fuck up, Marty,” Rod said. “You’re going to get us killed.” “I’d rather be dead than go back to the joint, Rod. You don’t know what it’s like inside.” Marty shuddered. “But I want a deal,” he said to Brandon. “I want fucking immunity.” “Who was the phone call from?” Brandon asked. “You tell me that and then we’ll talk about immunity.” “No, I ain’t saying another word. Not until I got it in writing,” Marty turned his head as if daring Brandon to force anything more out of him. There was the sound of booted feet and two men dressed in security guard uniforms came careening into the hallway. Brandon held up his FBI identification. “Situation is under control, gentlemen. We’re waiting for SAPD right now.” “FBI? What the fuck?” The younger of the two security guards took Brandon’s identification, he pulled out his notebook and wrote down his name in it. “Who are the rest of these people?” he asked, his tone demanding an answer. “We’ve got this sir,” Rylie said, though the kid was probably younger than she was, looking barely out of high school. “If you and your partner could handle the crowd until the police get here, that would be a huge help.” “I’ll need your name too, miss. I have to write up my own report for this.” He stared at her expectantly, holding his hand out. Dillon could almost see Rylie fighting off her anger as she dug out her identification and passed it to the kid. He wrote down their names, returning the IDs before turning to Dillon and Shanna. “Are you two with the FBI also?” he asked, his tone polite. “Hell no, who could deal with the politics?” Dillon exclaimed. He pulled out his own identification, handing his license and permit for carrying a concealed weapon to the kid. “This is my sister, Shanna.” “My ID’s out in my car,” she said. “So what is this about,” the other security guard asked, getting out his own pad of paper and pen. “It’s an FBI matter,” Brandon said. “You can put that in your report.” He turned away, shoving his wallet back into his back pocket and walking back to the two men. 129
Wendy Stone “They’re just trying to do their jobs, dickhead,” Dillon said, smiling as Brandon stopped in his tracks, his back stiffening. “Dillon,” Shanna began, her tone warning him to watch it. “Sorry,” Dillon said, holding up his hands. “I was just stating the obvious.” “We all know they have jobs to do,” Shanna said. “No, I meant the part about your boyfriend being a dickhead.” Brandon took a deep breath, turned around and saw the gleam in Dillon’s eyes and knew he was looking for a fight, wanting to punch someone. It was fine with him, he could use it to get out some of his own aggression. He started walking back when Rylie stepped in front of him. “Leave it be, Brandon, he’s just trying to annoy you.” “He’s succeeding.” “Come on, hang on to that edge, it’ll be good when we get these guys into interrogation. If you’re good, I’ll let you be bad cop this time,” she teased him softly. Shanna smacked Dillon in the arm, giving him a look that should have fried him in his tracks. “You can be such an asshole, Dillon,” she snapped at him. “He’s not good enough for you, Shanna. You don’t want to get involved with some stuck up fed who goes to work everyday in a three piece suit. You’ve done that and look at where it got you, up to your ears in hot water.” Dillon grabbed her arm as she started to walk away. “You’re my baby sister, Shanna. I only want what’s best for you. You didn’t listen to me once and look what happened.” “Oh, so if I had listened to you, my life would be all sunshine and puppies right now? Is that what you’re telling me?” She dragged her arm out of his grasp. “You are so full of it, Dillon.” Dillon watched her walk away. He was staring after her, confused by her attitude when Rylie spoke up. “You really handled that one well,” she said, her voice full of sarcasm. “She’s just getting out of a terrible marriage. She shouldn’t be jumping into another with the first guy that comes along. “She left her husband what, five months ago? I don’t think Brandon is the first one to want to ask her out, Dillon. I mean look at the kid,” she said softly, pointing discreetly at the young security guard. He kept looking at Shanna, his eyes roving over her curves. “Your sister is gorgeous and guys know it.” 130
Heaven In Her Eyes “Thanks for pointing it out to me,” he said, his voice full of his own sarcasm. “I know she’s pretty and I know she’s got a lot going for her. I just hate to see her waste it on him.” He sighed in disgust as Brandon put his arm around Shanna and pulled her close, bending his head to hear what she was saying. “What’s wrong with Brandon?” Rylie asked, curiously. From where she was standing, the two of them made a very cute couple. “He’s too old for her,” he stated firmly. “And he’s a glorified cop.” He realized what he’d said only a second after he said it and whirled around. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded,” he said quickly, putting his hands out to Rylie. Rylie regarded him slowly, her arms crossed under her breasts, her eyes turning icy. “Glorified cop? You mind explaining that one?” “It’s just…shit, anything I say is going to just dig me in deeper. I don’t want Shanna to get hurt again. She don’t need to hook up with some guy who’s going to go out some day to work and not come home.” Dillon hooked his thumbs in the front pockets of his jeans. “She’s going to end up with another broken heart.” Rylie’s eyes narrowed, the blue turning icy. “So, because Brandon works in law enforcement, he’s a bad bet? He’s not good enough for your sister?” “Yep, it’s a deep fucking hole,” he groaned, slapping his hand against his thigh. “Just try to see this my way. Brandon’s been shot once already, what’s to say he won’t go out tomorrow and get shot again?” “What’s to say you won’t walk out of this building and find yourself getting your leather covered, Neanderthal minded ass kicked?” she tossed back at him, turning to stomp away. “Wait, Rylie, hold on a second.” He grabbed for her arm, quickly dropping his hand when she glared at him, with enough daggers in her eyes to slice and dice him into sashimi. “Come on,” he wheedled, giving her a look with his amber eyes that would melt a lesser woman’s heart. “You have to admit your job is pretty dangerous.” “It is,” she agreed, though she didn’t let him sway her anger. “But we are trained to handle it and to handle whatever comes up. Brandon’s been my partner for three years, Dillon. We aren’t just partners, we’re friends. He’s a good guy and he deserves some happiness, same as your sister. Maybe if you cut him some slack, you’d see for yourself they are good together.” 131
Wendy Stone “How would you know? From what Aaron says, Brandon hadn’t seen her since the wedding until yesterday, and now they’re in love?” he sneered. “Sometimes that’s all it takes,” she said softly and then seemed to catch herself, hearing the note in her voice that spoke of her own desires. “But it isn’t up to you or me. It’s up to them. She’s an adult and not just your baby sister, Dillon.” “Wow, someone finally noticed,” Shanna said, coming up behind them. “Cops are here,” she said to Rylie. “Good, then I’ll leave you with your brother and maybe you can talk some sense into him.” She gave him one last look before turning and walking away, refusing to look over her shoulder at him even though she could feel the heat of his amber eyes on her back. Okay, on her ass, but who was she to be picky. “You’re making friends everywhere you go today, aren’t you, brother?” “Hush,” Dillon growled, not amused. “Why don’t you come with me and I’ll take you over to Aaron’s place. You’d be safer there than with lover boy, especially since he looks like he’s going to be tied up for the next few hours.” “I’m going to the police station with Brandon,” she stated, her pointy little chin lifting and daring him to argue with her. “He’s going to interrogate the suspects and I get to watch. I want to know if it’s Jackson behind this or not, Dillon. I have to know.” “You really think they’re going to talk?” Dillon wrapped his arm around her, squeezing her once. “If it’s what you want, but I’m going to be doing some investigating of my own, Shan. I don’t trust feds and you shouldn’t either.” “It’s not the feds I trust,” she said, returning his hug. She loved him even though he could be a huge butthead. “It’s Brandon. I trust him with my life.” Dillon sighed. “Fine, just don’t expect me to trust him. I’ll be around, Shan.” He dropped his arm from her shoulder, planting a kiss on her dark head. His eyes raised and he saw Rylie looking at him. Giving her a mocking salute, he turned and walked away. ****
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Heaven In Her Eyes The phone rang and Jackson Clinton set his cut glass tumbler of single malt scotch down and picked it up off the seat of his limo, clicking the button to turn it on. “Clinton,” he growled into the phone while picking an imaginary piece of lint off the pristine fabric of his tuxedo. The voice on the other end spoke quickly, the tone placating and apologetic. Jackson’s face turned red as he listened to the words being said. “One small woman, that was all I asked you to do, bring me one small woman. You can’t do it. You’re incompetence could cost me everything.” He listened, his fingers tightening on the phone. “No, I want those men taken care of before they get a chance to talk. Understood? Do you think you can do this one right? I’ll come and fetch my wife, myself.” He clicked off the phone, cutting the man off mid-syllable. Folding it, he was tempted to throw it in a fit of anger but he swallowed his emotions, almost choking on the ball of rage in his chest. Sliding the phone into the pocket of his tux, he tugged at the jacket slightly and leaned forward, picking up his glass once more. He took a small sip, savoring the smooth bite of the liquid before digging out his cell phone once more. He hit a button, held it to his ear. It was answered on the first ring. “Yes sir?” “Danielle, cancel all my appointments on Friday and make sure my jet is ready to take off at eleven. I will be flying to Texas to see my wife.” “Certainly sir,” the feminine voice with the soft mid-west accent said. “Will there be anything else, sir?” “Yes, pack a bag,” he said, thinking of the beautiful assistant with her dark hair and light blue eyes. “You’re coming with me.” “Certainly, sir,” she said. “How long will we be gone sir, so that I can let my husband know?” “Not long, Danielle. Not long at all.” He smiled, chuckling at her not so subtle reminder that she was married, and hung up as the limo pulled into the hotel where the ball to raise money for Human Stem Cell Research was being held. **** Angel caught her breath and her hand slipped down over the mound of her belly, caressing the child within. “Easy slugger,” she said softly. “Mama doesn’t need to be black and blue.” She smiled as another kick 133
Wendy Stone jolted her palm. What did she expect? Especially since she’d married a man who was as tall and broad as Hunter was. “You okay, baby?” he asked, coming up behind her to run his hands over her stomach, pulling her gently back against his big body. “Your son thinks he wants to be a field goal kicker for the NFL when he grows up,” she breathed, relaxing against him. How could her life be more perfect? She had a job she loved at a local hospital, the man she loved with her and their baby inside of her, safe and warm. “Maybe my daughter wants to move to France and become a can-can girl,” he said, nuzzling his face against her neck. She turned into his embrace, smiling up at him. “I love you,” she said. “You know, I’ll never be tired of hearing that.” He let his hands roam over her body slowly, feeling the heaviness of her milk-laden breasts against his chest. His head bent and he found her lips, slowly deepening the kiss until her breath was as short as his, her body arching against his. When he lifted his head, her eyes were soft, half closed with passion, meeting his stormy gray eyes with a hint of mischief. She pushed him back until he was back against a wall, her lips at his throat, nipping at the tender flesh with her sharp teeth. “Angel,” his voice held a definite rumble that spoke of needs held in check. “What are you doing?” “Loving my husband,” she said, slowly dropping to her knees before him, her hands caressing the bulge that grew bigger in the front of his jeans. Her nimble fingers undid the button fly, yanking down his jeans and running her fingers over the tent in his shorts. “My poor husband, he’s been so neglected,” she purred, lifting lambent green eyes up to his. “Angel, you don’t have to do…ahh,” he hissed as her fingers pulled the waistband of his shorts down, his cock bouncing out in front of her. She licked the big plum shaped head, savoring his taste, all the while looking up at him. “You don’t want me to do this?” she asked, before she took him into her mouth, her tongue swirling around the ridge, stroking down over the heavy veined shaft. She took her time, suckling upon him, licking him, loving him with her mouth while she rejoiced at every groan and moan that came from him. Her hands roamed over his body, sliding under his shirt to caress his muscled chest and stomach, racking her short nails across his thighs and over the firm globes of his ass. She felt his hands come down to her head, 134
Heaven In Her Eyes resting gently against her hair, his fingers stroking through the fiery strands. Looking up at him, she slowly let him pop out of her mouth, licking her lips with a leisurely tongue. She stroked him with one hand, lapping against the small slit as it wept precious drops of pre-cum, her eyes meeting his and seeing the love that lived inside of him for her. Hunter caressed her precious face with the palms of his hand, his body aching for her. His fingers tripped into her hair, slipping the long strands between his fingers, letting their silken texture trail over his palms. He saw her lips part once more as she drew him back inside the heated wetness of her mouth, taking him deep. Her head bobbed, the suction making his knees weak as she worked her sweet magic, loving him with long strokes. He felt the coolness of her palm cupping the weight of his balls, carefully rolling them, pulling on them gently and groaned, knowing he wouldn’t last much longer under her talented hands and mouth. “God, baby,” he moaned, his voice a harsh rumble. “You’re so good at that.” She moaned in agreement around his thick shaft, knowing he would feel the vibrations of her mouth as another kind of caress. Her tongue swirled and she felt the first small gush that heralded his orgasm, felt his cock swell in her mouth and almost smiled. Hunter barely managed to keep from jerking his hips into her mouth as she brought him even closer to climax, his body aching and rushing to that peak, desperate to spend himself in her. He growled, groaning as he threw his head back against the wall, feeling her swallowing around his shaft as he spewed into her. Shivers ran through him and his chest heaved with the effort to catch his breath as he felt her suck him clean, before she pulled up his shorts and jeans. He reached down, lifting her easily in his big hands despite the added weight of the baby. Dropping his head, he kissed her deeply, cradling her against his chest. “I owe Sebastian a thank you note,” he said, when he finally let her up for air. “For what?” she said, smiling up at him even though her brow furrowed with confusion. “For kidnapping me and beating me half to death so that an Angel could come and make my life paradise,” he said softly, watching as her smile grew bigger even as tears formed in her eyes. “Aaron!” 135
Wendy Stone Dillon’s voice came from the front door of their three-bedroom home set on the outskirts of San Antonio. Hunter heard the door slam and closed his eyes with a sigh. “Shit,” he said succinctly. “He’s your brother,” Angel said, laughing. “Sometimes I thank my mother for having me be an only child.” She patted him gently, slipping out of his arms to head towards their bedroom. “You might want to button up,” she said as she reached the door, her eyes dropping to where his pants were still opened. He’d barely gotten them fastened when his brother came stomping into the living room, his amber eyes full of fire. “We have to talk, little brother,” Dillon said, spotting Hunter. “Yeah, I kind of got that feeling by the way you came stomping in here,” he said, moving away from the wall and going to sit in his recliner. “What’s up?” “I just pulled Shanna out from the middle of a gun fight, that’s what’s up,” he growled, pacing the floor like a lean black haired beast, wild and untamed, caged for the first time. “Shit, is she okay?” Hunter sat forward, his hands gripping the arms of the chair. “Yeah, no thanks on any part to that friend of yours. We’ve got to do something.” Dillon strode over to the big sofa, dropping down into it and scooping his hair off his forehead with one hand, sighing deeply. “I can’t believe you could be friends with someone like him, he’s going to get her killed.” “Brandon saved my life more than once, Dill. I know he cares about Shanna, he won’t let her get hurt.” Hunter put his hand on his brother’s arm, feeling the tension in the bunched up muscles. “Yeah, he cares enough that he took her to bed. Dammit, Aaron, we’ve got to get her over here where we can protect her.” He looked up as Angel waddled into the room. “Hi ya gorgeous,” he said, his eyes lighting up at the sight of his brother’s beautiful wife. “How’s my nephew doing?” “He’s trying to learn to kick down doors already,” she said, pulling on his ponytail as he gave her a hug. “What’s this I heard about Shanna? Is she okay?” Hunter got up and pulled Angel from Dillon’s arms, giving his brother a look that told him to find his own woman. “We’ve got to go for a little while, baby. I want to make sure Shanna’s okay with Brandon 136
Heaven In Her Eyes since the bank robbery yesterday. Will you be okay?” he asked, bending his head to kiss her cheek, his hand stroking over her soft skin. “Fine, Junior and I still have a few weeks left to percolate. Just don’t forget your phone,” she reminded him. “Good,” Dillon said. “Maybe you can talk some sense into our hard headed sister.” He led the way out of the house and into Aaron’s car.
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Chapter Thirteen “Sooner or later one of your buddies is going to break and when he does…” Brandon slammed his hands down on the table in the interrogation room to make his point, standing over the man he was trying to intimidate. It was working, the man was shaking, his head down, not willing to make eye contact with him at all. “When one of you talks, that’s it. Any thought of a deal is off.” “What kind of deal?” the man said slowly, his head coming up to glance at Brandon before looking away. “We’ll give you protection, set you up in a safe house until you can tell the court what you know. After that, it all depends on you.” Brandon started to sit down, his adrenaline pumping. “Plus, it will depend on what you have to tell me. Make up your mind, Marty, you said you didn’t want to go back inside, this is your only way out.” Marty stared at the table, his eyes wavering between it and Brandon’s solemn face. His mind raced at the possibilities in front of him. There were two, he could give this cop what he wanted and maybe have a chance at living free or he could keep his mouth shut, stay alive, and go back to prison. “I’d rather be dead than in prison,” he whispered. “You won’t be either if you tell me what you know,” Brandon coaxed, his tone softening. “Fine, but I have your word?” Marty asked, his eyes huge with fright. “I’ll have protection until he’s in prison? You don’t know this man, he’s bad news.” “You have my word, Marty,” Brandon said, holding out his hand to the handcuffed man.
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Heaven In Her Eyes Marty stared at the hand before reaching out with both of his and shaking it. “Okay,” he said softly, knowing he was signing his own death warrant. “Me and Rod have been out of work since I got out of the joint a few months back. My parole officer was on me about finding a job. When this guy said he had work for us, I jumped at it.” “Who was the guy?” Brandon asked, reaching for a pen in his pocket before realizing he wasn’t wearing his usual work suit. Rylie reached over and handed him one. “His name is Simon. I can never pronounce his last name but it’s something foreign. He’s a tall guy with dark hair and scary blue eyes. He’s a mean mother fuck…I mean, he’s mean.” Marty glanced over at Rylie with an apologetic shrug she found strange. Here he was, a convicted criminal, ready to kidnap a girl but he apologizes for swearing in front of a woman. Some guys were so bizarre. “Simon has been feeding me and Rod work for the past few weeks. It was little things to start, picking up packages and delivering them to places, shaking down some of the local dives for protection money, rounding up women for a party he had going. It wasn’t nothing we couldn’t handle. Then we got this phone call. He wants us to get this girl for this guy he works for. So Rod and I,” he swallowed, and looked up at Brandon, “we followed you from the lawyer’s office to the mall.” “Who does Simon work for?” Brandon asked, leaning forward in his chair. “Oh man,” Marty dropped his head in his hands. “I am so dead.” He ran his hands over his face, wiping away the sheen of sweat. “His name is…” “This stops now,” the suit said as he walked into the interrogation room, his briefcase in his hand. “Who the fuck are you?” Rylie growled, standing up and staring at the stranger. “He’s Mr. MacCloud’s lawyer,” Detective Grady Anderson answered, coming in behind the stranger. “All four of them are lawyered up.” “Marty didn’t ask for a lawyer,” Brandon snarled, his hands closing into fists. “I was hired by a benefactor of Mr. MacCloud,” the suit said, handing his card to Brandon. “All questioning stops now. Any further questioning will be done through me. Now I would like to know a list of the charges and then get my client arraigned so we can post bail.” He 139
Wendy Stone stood there, a smallish man in an expensive suit with a hundred dollar haircut and ritzy shoes, his eyes impassive as he stared at Brandon. “Marty, what’s his name?” Brandon asked him again. “Don’t answer that Mr. MacCloud,” the lawyer said. He put his hand on Marty’s shoulder, squeezing it. “Don’t answer any more of their questions.” Brandon felt the urge to jump across the table and wrap his hands around the lawyer’s throat. Instead, he kicked out at his chair, sending it flying into the plain gray wall of the interrogation room, watching as Marty flinched but the damn suit just stood there. With an oath better left unrepeated, he stormed from the room, Rylie on his heels. “Fucking suits,” he snarled as she caught up with him. “You almost had him,” she sighed. He stopped and glared at her. “You don’t think I don’t know that. God dammit Rylie, who called in the lawyers? Who could afford to hire four lawyers? These aren’t from the Public Defender’s office. Did you see the suit on that guy?” “Yeah, the only other person I’ve ever seen wear as ritzy a suit is you,” she said, patting him on the shoulder. “We’ll just have to get him some other way, Brandon.” “And in the meantime, he could get his hands on Shanna, he could hurt her worse than she’s been hurt in the past. She told me what that asshole of a husband of hers did to her, Rylie. No woman should be made to go through that kind of torture.” He scooped his hair off his face with his hand, his green eyes glowing with rage. “You need to get control of yourself, Brandon. Where’s that Austin cool that never lets you down?” Rylie grabbed his shoulder, moving him off to the side of the hallway. “You need to get out of here. Why don’t you take Shanna and get something to eat? Go home, spend some time with your lady, you’ll feel better.” “What are you going to do?” he asked. “I’m going to make some phone calls, see if I can find out who the mysterious benefactor is.” She smiled up at him. “It feels good to be working with you again, partner.” “You too,” he smiled. “Thanks, Rylie. You don’t know how much I appreciate what you’re doing for me…for Shanna.” She waved away his thanks. “Go get your lady, Bran. Take some time and get your head back on straight. We’ll do this the hard way but we’ll get it done, you know that.” She patted his arm, seeing him wince as she 140
Heaven In Her Eyes hit the white bandage over his gunshot wound and then turned and walked away. **** He found her asleep on the sofa in the small lounge just off the bullpen area of the homicide department. Someone had been thoughtful enough to supply a blanket for her and she had it spread over her legs, then curled up on the lumpy cushions. Her hand was under her cheek, her skin flushed. She’d rolled a little in her sleep and one of the buttons on the white blouse had come undone, giving him a tantalizing glimpse of soft cleavage and a hint of white lace. He sat down on the coffee table in front of the couch, his hand reaching out and pushing a stray lock of hair away from her cheek. When her eyes fluttered he smiled, the maelstrom of rage in his gut calming. “Hi, baby,” he whispered softly. “Hi yourself,” she said, yawning and stretching, another button popping as the shirt strained across her breasts. His fingers itched to touch her, to sate himself on the smoothness of her skin, the taste of her flesh. “Nice,” he murmured, his eyes dropping to her breasts. Shanna blushed bright red, as she glanced down and noted the amount of skin she was exposing. “Dammit Brandon, you could have said something,” she groused, quickly buttoning the recalcitrant buttons. “And miss out on that wonderful view, not on your life.” He sat back as she sat up, standing and folding the blanket before placing it carefully on the couch. “Did they talk?” He sighed, hating to have to be the one to tell her. “No, I’m sorry. I had one guy ready to spill his guts and I got shut down by his lawyer.” He stood, pulling her in his arms. “It’s okay though, I’ll have another chance at them, but not tonight. In the meantime, Rylie is making some calls to see if we can find out who is financing their legal representation.” Shanna tried to hide her disappointment she’d hoped this would be over with. That she could get back to a normal life and not have to look over her shoulder all the time. “I guess you’re stuck with me for a while longer,” she sighed. “Yeah, well, someone’s got to do it,” he said, laughing when she smacked his chest. “Come on, I’m hungry and I can just bet you want to put on some of those clean clothes we got for you.” He took her hand, 141
Wendy Stone leading her out of the lounge and down to the elevator. It took them to the main lobby where they took off the guest badges they’d been given and dropped them on the desk sergeant’s desk before signing his out sheet. **** “Mr. MacCloud, I hope you realize I stopped you from making a huge mistake a few minutes ago,” the small man said, laying his briefcase on the table in front of him. He walked behind the cuffed man, glancing at the uniformed cop standing sentinel in the corner of the room, far enough away to give them privacy. “If you had informed the police about anything dealing with your employer, I’m afraid I wouldn’t be able to help you. But now,” he turned his back to the cop, playing with the large ring on his hand. “Now, well, we should be able to come up with a defense.” Marty felt the man touch his shoulder again and felt his skin crawl. The man had a strange, almost feminine attitude about him. Not that Marty had anything against gay men, he’d seen more than his share of that kind of action himself in prison. It just wasn’t his thing. But no, there was something else about this man, something that made him more than nervous. The lawyer squeezed his shoulder once more before dropping his hand away and checking his watch. He walked around the table, opened his briefcase and sifted through some papers. “If you’ll sign this form, Mr. MacCloud, I will start the paperwork for your defense. Until I return, please remember not to say a word to the police, no matter what they promise you.” He slid the form under Marty’s manacled hands and gave him a pen. Marty tried to read the form, but with his tenth grade education and the words that were used, he had no clue what the paper said. He signed it anyway, handing the lawyer back his pen and watched as he put the document in his briefcase and closed it. He held out his hand for Marty to shake, and Marty took it. A sharp sting in his finger made Marty drop the lawyer’s hand quickly, staring up in confusion at the pain. “Oh, I’m so sorry, it’s this ring. I have to get it fixed,” the lawyer said. “Remember what I said, Marty. Keep your mouth closed. I’ll be back in a 142
Heaven In Her Eyes while.” He smiled broadly and let the officer open the door for him, leaving the room quickly. Marty looked up in time to see three other men in expensive suits walking down the hallway, his lawyer joining in the procession. His hand still stung and he lifted it up, closer to his eyes, and peered at the red welt at the top of his palm. A shout from out in the hallway caught his attention, and he looked up, the room moving around him. Suddenly, he was spinning dizzily, as he grabbed for the table, his body started to slump. He fell to the floor, his eyes rolling back into his head, a huge pain billowing like a bubble inside his chest. The guard took two steps toward him as he started to convulse. By the time the guard knelt over him, Marty was dead. **** Shanna was in heaven. Hot water coursed over her sore muscles and tired body, invigorating her, relaxing the tensions of the day. She had twined her braid around her head to keep her hair dry and now she braced her arms against the wall of the shower, letting the water flow over her and refused to think. It felt so good, she didn’t know how long she’d been in the shower, enjoying the heat when a loud noise startled her. Her head came up, her eyes focusing on the bathroom door, not sure what to expect. Was it another attack? Was Brandon in danger? She reached over, to turn off the water, her head tilted as she listened. It came again, a loud thunking sound as if someone had bodily hit a wall. Grabbing a towel, she wrapped it around her slender body, and cautiously opened the door. She wanted to call out to Brandon, but if they didn’t know she was there, then maybe he had a chance of talking his way out of an attack. Sneaking down the short hall that separated the bedroom from the living room, she peeked around a corner, her eyes widening at the sight that greeted her. **** “Where is she, Austin?” Dillon snarled, pushing Brandon again. 143
Wendy Stone “None of your fucking business, asswipe,” Brandon said, growling as he hit the wall for a second time. If he wasn’t Shanna’s brother, the jerk would have been on the ground by now, cuffed and heading for jail. “Dillon, God dammit, settle down.” Hunter tried to get between the two men, wanting to calm down his brother, but Dillon was having none of it. “I’ll settle down when Shanna is home where she belongs,” Dillon growled, side stepping his younger brother to get back in Brandon’s face. “Where is she?” “I’m right here,” Shanna said, stepping into the living room, dripping water onto the carpeted floor. “Knock it off, Dillon.” She walked around her brothers, going to Brandon and letting him slip his arm around her, ignoring Dillon’s furious snarl as he did so. “We came to bring you to Aaron’s, Shanna. You don’t need to stay here with him when you’ve got family that can protect you.” “Are you okay?” Shanna asked Brandon, ignoring her pig headed brother. “Yeah, it’d take more than what he can dish out to hurt me, baby.” Brandon smiled down at her, knowing it would infuriate Dillon even more. “Oh,” Shanna sighed, batting her amber eyes up at him. “My hero,” she cooed in her best southern drawl, clasping her hands to her breast over the towel. Both Brandon and Hunter laughed, Dillon only got angrier. “How can you laugh, do you realize how much danger she’s in?” Dillon reached out, his hand encircling Shanna’s wrist. “Go get dressed,” he ordered her. “You’re coming home with us.” “I’m not going anywhere,” she said. “So lay off, brother.” “Let her go,” Brandon growled, his anger growing. “You want to push me around, fine, but don’t touch her. I don’t care if you are her brother.” “Why are you doing this, Dillon?” she asked him, letting him draw her forward. “Why are you being such a butthead about this?” “How can you ask me that after what I let you go through?” Dillon dropped her arm, his hand going up to his hair, scooping it off his forehead with an angry motion. “You went through years of hell because I didn’t go and get you like I wanted. I let my damn pride get in the way. I figured, you’d made your bed; you got to lay in it. Look what happened.” He sighed, turning away from her. “It’s my fault, Shanna.” 144
Heaven In Her Eyes “Dill, it’s not your fault,” she said, coming up behind him, her hand resting gently on his shoulder. “You told me and told me he was bad news, but I didn’t want to hear you. I made my decision and I had to stick by what I did. It wasn’t your fault, it was mine.” “I’m the oldest,” he said with a shrug. “You were my responsibility when mom and dad died. I’m the one that blew it. I should have come after you and dragged you home whether you wanted to come or not. Now, you’re hooking up with someone else and how do I know he won’t do to you what Clinton did?” “Because I’d rather rip my own arms out than hurt her even once,” Brandon said, coming up beside Shanna. “Because I would die rather than let someone hurt her. Because I will protect her with my life if necessary, Dillon, I’m in love with Shanna but even if I weren’t, I would do everything in my power to keep her safe.” “He’s telling the truth, Dill. So why don’t you back off and let him do what he’s good at?” Hunter came up, clapping Dillon on the back. “We can keep an eye on her, but I know for damn sure Brandon won’t hurt her or let her come to harm. He saved my life, Dillon, did you forget that?” “I don’t like it,” Dillon said, glaring at Brandon. “I don’t like leaving her here when I know someone is trying to get to her.” “I won’t let her out of my sight,” Brandon said, holding his hand out to Dillon. “So, truce?” Dillon heaved a huge sigh, finally putting out his hand and shaking Brandon’s. “You fuck this up and there won’t be a corner of the world you’ll be able to hide from me.” “I fuck this up and I’ll let you put me out of my misery,” Brandon said. “Good, now you’ve kissed and made up, can we get home? I left my pregnant wife alone,” Hunter said. He leaned over and planted a kiss on Shanna’s cheek. “Not that it isn’t great to see you, Sis, but I think I’d rather see a lot less of you,” he laughed, giving her the once over in the skimpy towel. “Thanks so much,” Shanna laughed. “Get out.” “Um…Brandon?” Dillon hedged, stopping at the door. “Yeah?” “Your partner, Rylie, is she seeing anyone?”
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Wendy Stone “I’d have to check the morgue,” Brandon said, laughing. “No she isn’t seeing anyone that I know of,” he said, when Dillon gave him a confused look. **** Dishes had been done and the leftover Chinese food put in the refrigerator. Brandon fed his cats, shooed them out of his room and closed the door. They lay together on the bed, Shanna wearing one of his shirts and nothing else. Brandon wore his shorts, her long hair spread across his chest. He was combing his fingers through the thick tresses, feeling their silky texture and the crimped waves from being in a braid all day. “I’m sorry about Dillon,” she said in a small voice. “It’s not anything for you to be sorry about. I actually think I can understand what he feels. If I’d been in his shoes, I’d probably feel the same way.” He sighed, stretching his legs straight out on the bed, content with holding her for right now. She lifted her head and gazed into the green of his eyes. “You really understand?” she asked him softly. “Yeah, I mean, you were his responsibility after your parents died. He feels like he blew it, letting you get hooked up with someone of Clinton’s ilk. I can’t fault him for worrying about you now.” He leaned over and, caught her mouth in a soft kiss. “It doesn’t mean I like having him come over here exploding in my face, but I can understand it.” “Thank you,” she said, curling up next to him again, her eyes growing heavy despite her earlier nap at the police station. “You’re welcome,” he whispered, squeezing her lightly and pulling the covers up over her better. “I love you, baby.” **** Rylie’s step quickened as she entered the lobby of her apartment building, pulling out her keys to open the small metal box that held her mail. She hopped into the elevator, hit the button for her floor and went through the small stack. “Occupant, occupant, bill, bill,” she muttered, sighing and leaning back against the back wall of the car. What did she expect? It wasn’t as if she had a life. Well, she did, but it revolved around the bureau and her job. And what was wrong with 146
Heaven In Her Eyes that? “Nothing,” she grumbled, thinking about the evening she had ahead of her. Microwave a frozen dinner, maybe work out a little and then she’d either watch something on television or work on one of the cold cases she liked to play with on her off time. “Yeah, I’m a party animal,” she muttered, staring at the numbers as they moved so slowly. Next time she’d take the stairs. The elevator finally came to a stop and she stepped off when the doors opened. She turned to go down the hall and then stopped dead in her tracks. “What are you doing here?” she growled, glaring at the leather-jacketed man in front of her. “Well, I thought if you weren’t doing anything for dinner, maybe we could…?” Dillon left the question hanging. “You and I? Are you serious?” “Yeah, I’m serious. Why is that so funny?” he asked, following her to her door as she fumbled with the keys. “Dillon, really, I don’t think it’s a good idea.” She turned, trying to block him from coming into her apartment, only to be pushed inside and the door closed behind him. “Okay, now you’ve had your fun, Dillon. I think you need to go.” “Why?” he asked, tipping his head and staring around the living room of her apartment. He was pleasantly surprised by the relaxed décor and the gym equipment he could see on the small covered terrace. It was something like he had himself, back in his house in Michigan. “I don’t get involved with people who are involved in the cases I’m working on, Dillon.” Rylie walked into the living room, dropping the mail on the stand and sliding off her blazer. Dillon’s eyes ran over her slender form, enjoying the contrast of soft and sexy woman to the harsh and hard reality of the 9 mm. She was standing in the pale blue blouse and jeans she’d put on that morning, with her holstered pistol in its accustomed place under her arm, she made a very intriguing package. He couldn’t help the spurt of lust that had his cock twitching awake in his jeans, and the awareness of her that made him realize that despite her cocky attitude, Rylie was nervous. “So since you’re working with Brandon to help keep my sister safe, you can’t have anything to do with me?” he asked her, walking slowly toward her and seeing her take a nervous step backwards. It made him smile even as she realized what she’d done and straightened her shoulders. 147
Wendy Stone “Yeah, something like that. Look, Dillon, you seem like a nice enough guy and I have to give you a lot of credit for coming all this way to help out your little sister. But I don’t think this is a good idea,” she said, waving her hand in the air between the two of them. “What’s not a good idea, Rylie? You and me, going out to grab a bite to eat and discussing what’s going on in my sister’s case, is that what you mean? How could that be a bad idea?” He almost laughed as he saw her blue eyes flit around the room as he stepped closer, as if looking for an escape route. Rylie wasn’t happy. Her stomach was in knots, her heart thumping too fast in her chest. Her palms were sweating, actually sweating! All because some guy in a leather jacket was giving her the eye. She’d knocked men twice as big and twice as handsome on their asses and walked away laughing. So why couldn’t she do that now? “Is that all this is?” she asked him quietly. “You just want information on Shanna’s case?” “No,” he said too quickly for her peace of mind. “It definitely isn’t what I want out of you.” He took a step closer, seeing her twitch before she resolutely stayed put. “Would you like to know what I’d really like?” Rylie felt as if she’d melt, that soft, husky rasp in his voice seemed to arrow through her. It was sending heat to every erogenous zone she’d every known she had, and a few she hadn’t known about. His eyes, those incredible gold eyes, seemed to know what was happening to her, for they roamed over her body, searing her with the passion she could see in them. She felt her nipples harden, and knew he saw them through the thin silk of her blouse, even as those lush lips of his curved into a smile. “Mmm,” he hummed, feeling himself harden inside the tight fit of his jeans. He knew she could see it, the long thick ridge under the well washed denim. He watched her eyes flit over him, saw her face flush when they settled on his cock. “See what you do to me?” he whispered, taking another step toward her. Rylie gasped, wanting to run, wanting to flee, but a part of her kept her motionless as he took that final step that put him close enough to her, so she could feel the heat of his body through the layers of their clothing. “This…this can’t be happening,” she said, looking up at him almost helplessly. “Yes, it can,” he said, his fingers coming out to stroke the thick black strap of her shoulder rig, following it down to where it snapped around 148
Heaven In Her Eyes her belt, then easily plucking the fastening open. “It has to happen,” he said. “You know that as well as I do.” Rylie mutely shook her head no, though she helped him strip the shoulder harness off her. Watching, as those long, lean fingers folded it deftly and set it down on the stand next to her. Her gaze met his and she felt his hand come up, and brush over the skin of her cheek. “You are so incredibly beautiful,” he murmured, weaving his tanned fingers into her hair, holding her head still as his mouth lowered. “I have to kiss you, little one.” Rylie’s eyes fluttered shut as she felt his lips brush against hers, once and then again, finally settling. His tongue slipped through to brush against her mouth. She wanted desperately to push him away, but another part of her that was just as strong held her in place, her lips parting under his mouth. She heard herself moan as she tasted him for the first time, a unique combination of heat, coffee and rich, hot sin, that had her pressing her body against his, her hands slipping up his chest against the soft cotton of his tee shirt. Dillon groaned, his body rapidly turning to flames as he felt her hands caressing him. Her body pressed against his chest, those luscious breasts flattening under the pressure. His hands slipped down to her waist, then around to her back, pulling her closer, letting her feel how much he wanted her. “Tell me you want me, Rylie,” he ordered, his mouth moving against hers. “Tell me you want me in your bed.” “I…I do,” she growled, giving up against his overpowering magnetism. “Damn you!” He laughed, his hands sliding down over her jeans encased ass, cupping her cheeks through the heavy material and squeezing. “Now,” he said softly, “ask me to spend the night.” Rylie pushed him backwards, surprising him. He stumbled back a step before catching his balance. “What the…” was all he got out before she grabbed him, yanked his head down, and found his mouth with the softness of her lips. She kissed him until he was sure he’d melted into a puddle at her feet, her hands roaming over him, stripping him of his jacket. It landed on the floor with a crinkle of leather and a jingle of the metal zipper. Reaching behind his back, she pulled out his holstered pistol, dropped it over her shoulder and on to the couch behind her. “Quit ordering me around,” she growled, yanking at his tee shirt and pulling it 149
Wendy Stone over his head. Her eyes narrowing as they focused on his wide, hard chest and the rippled muscles of his abs. “Nice,” she hissed, just before he brought his hands up and gathered two fistfuls of her blouse in his fingers, pulling it apart and ripping buttons off. Her body was toned, leanly muscled, and her breasts in their blue silk encasements stood high and firm. He yanked the blouse down her arms, to pull it off. “I could definitely say the same,” he groaned, his hands going to the smooth heat of her skin. She tangled her hands in his hair, dislodging the clip so that the length of it fell around his shoulders. Pulling his mouth down to hers, she nipped at his lips. “You owe me a new shirt,” she hissed just before he kissed her again. His tongue was like a living flame in her mouth, his body hot and hard against hers. He kissed her as if he’d never stop, leaving her breathless and needy, wanting more when he did finally lift his head. She felt his fingers at her back, felt them unhook the blue silk bra before he yanked it off her arms, her nipples tightening in the heat of his gaze. “Oh, fuck, Rylie,” he groaned, his fingers smoothing over the soft white flesh of her breasts, before sliding over the plump brown center, twisting it slowly. He bent slowly, and his mouth grazed over her skin, finally finding a hard tip. He sucked it into his mouth, desperate for the taste of her upon his tongue. Rylie arched her back, her hands digging in his long black hair, holding his head still. Her mouth opened upon a cry of need and pleasure mixed, and she felt her sex grow moist with want. Her knees were shaking and she found herself holding onto him, letting him support her weight in his huge hands. Dillon swept her up into his arms, his eyes daring hers to deny them what they both so desperately wanted and needed. He cocked one black brow in question at her and waited impatiently for her to answer. “The door on the right,” she whispered before burying her mouth in his throat, to nip at the hard flesh and breathe in his addictive scent. He carried her into her bedroom easily, her slender form weighing little to him. Flicking on the light switch, he glanced around the room, and saw a new side of Rylie in the very feminine trappings. As well as a small collection of stuffed dogs taking up one corner of the room, it was her bed he was most interested in. He walked towards it, then tossed her into its center. 150
Heaven In Her Eyes Before Rylie could do more than bounce once, he was on top of her, laughing at the look of outrage in her eyes. He kissed her slowly, thoroughly, his hands sliding over her skin, cupping her breasts, as his thumb rubbed against her delicate nipple. Then his hands slipped to the waistband of her jeans, finding her belt he pulled it free. Dropping it over the side of her bed, he returned to undo the button and the zipper, sliding his palm flat against her soft skin and under the delicate blue lace, he could see in the opening of her jeans. His hand found smooth skin, soft, hairless, and then sliding down further encountered the top of her wet slit. He let his fingers slip between her sleek lips, hearing her moan as he brushed against her clit, enveloped in the wet heat of her. For a man of his size and strength, he was infinitely careful with the delicate flesh he probed, slowly he thrust his finger inside of her sleek channel, feeling the grip of her vaginal muscles as they clung to his skin. He stroked her gently, his thumb still circling her clit, hearing her cries of pleasure and moans of need as she squirmed under him. “Please, Dillon,” she gasped, her hands coming down to encircle his wrist, whether to force him away or hold him to her, she didn’t know. “God…that feels so…” Her back arched, her hips undulated with everincreasing speed. Dillon found himself fascinated by the look on her beautiful face, the way she bit her lip, her eyes closing as if what she were feeling was too much to be shared. He loved the flush that rose from her breasts and slipped over her cheeks as her body moved faster against his pleasuring hand. He felt his own desires swell, his need for her growing even as the need to watch her orgasm screamed through him. “Come for me, baby,” he whispered, leaning close to her ear, his tongue sweeping out to circle the sensitive whorl, making her shiver. “Come on my hand, little one.” She was so close, she could feel the jagged, sharp edges of her climax, the almost pain, like a feeling of pleasure that held her ensnared. Her nails dug into his wrist and she cried out, his name upon her lips as it swept over her. It sent shudders of heat through out her body as she did as he’d ordered, wetting his hand with the heat of her orgasm. “Fuck,” he hissed, for the sight of her like that had him breathless, with something that was more than passion and want. It was something he couldn’t decipher, a nameless emotion that frightened him more than 151
Wendy Stone a little. He started to pull his hand out of her jeans, hearing her murmur his name again. From beside him, the phone on her bedside table blared, the ring louder than a normal phone, startling them both. She sat up, looking dazed, her body glowing from the pleasure he’d just given her. “I…I have to get that,” she breathed, reaching over him as he fell to his back on the bed beside her. Her breasts pressed against his chest for a moment and he hissed, the word that sprang from his lips making her smile. “Moore,” she said into the phone, clearing her throat as she heard how she sounded. Her voice was soft and raspy, as if she’d just woken up. Dillon watched as her expression changed, the soft glow fading, turning into the hard-nosed cop face she usually wore. “You’re joking, this is some kind of sick joke, right?” She shook her head, sighing in disgust. “Okay, I’ll be down in twenty minutes. I want the ME’s reports as soon as he has them.” She slammed down the phone, pushing her hair out of her face. “I have to go,” she said quietly, looking up at him, now seeming more embarrassed than anything else. “What’s going on?” Dillon asked, watching as she pushed off the bed, going to a dresser and pulling out clean clothes. “All four suspects from today are dead. They think they were poisoned.” “Shit,” he breathed. He bounced off the bed, going to the bedroom door and opening it. “I’m going with you,” he said as he left the room. He was back in a few seconds, dressed in his tee shirt, her bra and torn shirt in one hand, her shoulder rig in the other. “This is police business,” she said, grabbing her rig and slipping it on over the soft tee shirt she’d grabbed. She snapped it onto her belt without looking at him. “This has to do with my sister, Rylie, I’m going with you.” She sighed, her eyes checking her appearance in the mirror over the long dresser. Her lips were swollen, her cheeks still flushed. Her blue eyes still looked soft and a little dazed from the pleasure he’d given her. It didn’t help that she could see his image reflected next to her, his broad shoulders filling the mirror behind her. His hair was as mussed as hers, with a hard edge to his eyes that sent a tiny thrill through her. “Fine,” she finally said, glaring at him. “But you do as I say, got me?” 152
Heaven In Her Eyes
Chapter Fourteen Brandon woke in the night, his heart racing and pulse thudding, as if he’d just run a ten mile race all up hill. He could barely breathe, fear unlike anything he’d felt before made his stomach heave. Then he felt her, soft and warm, her breasts pressing into his side, her hair tickling his chest, tangled around his arm as if to keep him next to her. He sighed heavily, running one shaking hand over his face and felt the sweat beading on his forehead. God! He hated these dreams. He could still feel the terror that had held him trapped in its clammy grip, as he’d watched Shanna being tortured by her husband over and over. Unable to reach her and get her away from him. He’d felt every slap, every blow, every heavy kick the bastard delivered to her slender body as if it had been done to him. His voice had gone hoarse from screaming and threatening in his dream. Closing his eyes, he let the feel of her next to him wipe away the terror and pain. “Are you okay?” she asked, her voice slurred from sleep. He opened his eyes, seeing the soft amber of hers so close, her lips were parted and her hand came up, to touch his cheek. “Yeah, bad dream,” he said, tipping his head to reach her soft lips. “But it’s all better now,” he said smiling at her when he released her lips. “Hmm, want to talk about it?” she murmured against his shoulder, arching her back as she stretched next to him. “When you’re rubbing up against me that way?” he growled. “Who can think to talk?” Her laughter was smothered by his lips, his hands dragging her closer. There was a kind of tender urgency about his kisses, as if he needed to prove to himself she was there, and not trapped in some kind
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Wendy Stone of hell where he couldn’t reach her. His lips caressed, they demanded, his tongue slipping into her mouth to taste of her passion. His hands were insistent, stroking over her soft skin with avid demand, startling a gasp of surprise out of her that was lost in his mouth. Within minutes, his hands had her wet and aching for him, his mouth had made a foray over the smooth flesh of her chest, licking a trail of fire over the round globes of her breasts, his lips and teeth nibbling the hardened tips. She moaned, sliding down over his loins, feeling the tip of his glans as it played in the wetness of her slit. He held her hips in his hands, pulling her slowly down on top of his aching cock, feeling her body give way to his hardness, the spongy hot walls of her sheath clinging to him. He pulled her down until she took him all, grinding her hips against him and hearing her groan. “Oh yeah,” he whispered, his fingers digging into her hips and moving her as he wished. “You feel so good, baby.” Shanna couldn’t speak, lost in the wonder of his big cock pulsing inside of her. Every move he made sent different sensations through her, pleasure mixed with just the tiniest hint of pain leaving her gasping in wonder. She moved her hips, grinding down against him, her clit mashed against the top of his cock as he drew her down. Her breasts were pressed against his chest, her nipples hard and incredibly sensitive, rubbing against him as she moved over him. Brandon couldn’t help the urgency that gripped him, the feeling of doom that had him rolling her over and sliding between her slender thighs, his big body thrusting against her softness. Insanity gripped him in its terrible clutches as he thought of losing her, of seeing her bruised and bloodied like he had in his dream, taken from his side by her husband. “I can’t lose you,” he growled. “You won’t,” she moaned, her legs scissoring around his hips as he drove himself into her—fucking her wildly, dragging her almost senseless from one ecstatic peak to the next. Her nails dug into his back, leaving tiny little half-moon welts in their wake, the small sting driving him even madder. Brandon grabbed her legs, pulling them up and over his shoulders, bending her almost in half, leaving her open for his possession in ways she’d never been before. He pummeled into her, hearing her grunts and moans, his hands hard on her tender skin. “Open your eyes,” he growled. “Shanna, open your eyes and look at me.” 154
Heaven In Her Eyes She did, seeing him over her in the dark—his face hard, his eyes halfwild. He looked like some pagan god, a warrior of old leaning over her, as his big body pounded against her. It sent a thrill of pleasure through her, the crazed look, the desperate desire he felt for her so easily seen on his face as if he could no longer hide anything from her, as if he needed her to see it. His mouth found hers, devouring her lips, sucking hungrily upon her tongue, feeling her sucking upon his. He heard her groans, felt her body clench under his, her pussy muscles fluttering against his cock. With a hiss, he held back his own pleasure, riding out her climactic storm, seeing her eyes go hazy, then blind as joy filled her. Slowly he let her legs fall back to the bed, his hips moving gently against her now, fighting the urges that made him want to plunder hard and fast once more. He pulled from her slowly, hearing her groan, watching as she blinked up at him, surprised. “You haven’t…?” she asked, surprised. “Not yet,” he growled, lifting her supple body and flipping her on her stomach. She turned her head, staring over her shoulder at him. Brandon pulled her hips up, getting her onto her knees, the flat of his hand running gently from the nape of her slender neck down to the slope of her hips. She had a beautiful back, soft and sleek, leanly muscled, the line of her spine flaring into the sweet curves of her ass. Her waist was tiny, his fingers almost meeting around it as he grasped her, holding her while he slid smoothly back inside the wetness of her sex. In this position, she felt so tight, his cock plundered deeper than he’d been before. She took him in with a gasp of renewed passion, her hips moving under the hard grasp of his hands, pressing back into him, writhing against him. Shanna pulled her long hair out of her way, throwing it over her shoulder, staring back at the man who was causing these incredible feelings of ecstasy. He’d made her feel whole again, given her back a little of herself that she’d thought gone forever, after what Jackson had done to her. He helped her remember the joy of being touched by someone who loved you, the sweetness of a kiss, the strength that could be given and received from something as simple as a hug. He’d done it all while asking for so little from her, only for her to trust him. She did, with her whole heart. “I love you,” she gasped, seeing his eyes go to her face, his arms wrapping around her waist and drawing her up so that he held her against him. 155
Wendy Stone “I love you,” he growled, his lips against her throat, the scratchy rasp of his whiskers rubbing against her smooth skin and sending a shiver down her spine. He held her weight easily, plunging into her from behind, burying his face in her hair as his breathing grew raspy, his movements wild as his pleasure grew. Shanna buried her hand in his hair, holding him to her, feeling his palm slide down her stomach, his fingers slipping into her wetness and finding the bud of her clit. “Oh God,” she groaned, as he circled the taut flesh, rubbing the tiny bundle of nerves with devastating results. Brandon lowered her to the bed once more, his body covering hers, pressing into hers, moving over her with urgency for the need to come was so heavy within him, he could barely breathe. He wanted her with him, wanted to feel the sweetness of her pussy clutching him again as he spewed his seed deep inside of her. His teeth nipped at her neck, his tongue slid down to her shoulder, his lips lingered against her skin even as his fingers tortured the tiny taut button. He heard her cries grow louder, her body writhing against his, pushing into his hand. “Come for me, baby,” he groaned, moving even faster inside of her. “Come with me.” Shanna felt the pressure grow inside, felt his fingers stroking her, taking her over so that the bubble deep inside of her belly burst, showering her with waves of heated pleasure, making her sex clutch him, spasms caressing his cock deep inside of her. She heard his shout, felt him reel back, pushing into her hard and then a heated warmth spewing deep. Brandon sighed heavily as his body relaxed down on top of her, barely remembering to hold some of his weight off so he didn’t smother her. His lips found her cheek, his hand moving her hair so that he could kiss her gently before pulling free and rolling to his back. But he couldn’t stop touching her, his hand slowly stroking over her back, his fingers playing in her hair. Shanna lifted up on her arms, her head turning to stare at him in the darkness. “Feel better?” she asked him, an impish smile upon her face. “Definitely,” he said on a long sigh, reaching up and grabbing her chin to draw her down to kiss him. “All I have to do is look at you and I feel better.” “Aww,” she smiled. “You say the sweetest things.”
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Heaven In Her Eyes “It’s true, baby. I’ve never felt like this about anyone before.” He kissed her again, feeling her settle against his side. He cuddled her to him, holding her close, his arms drawing her against him. “Think you can go back to sleep?” she asked him when he finally let loose her lips, a yawn surprising him and starting his split lip into bleeding a bit. “Damn,” he hissed, reaching over to the stand next to the bed and grabbing a tissue from the box he kept there. He held it to his lip, sitting on the side of the bed. Shanna got up to her knees, feeling his come against her thighs. When Jackson had taken her, she would hurry to the bathroom after, anxious to scrub any sign of him off her skin and out of her mouth. Now she reveled in the way it felt as she leaned against his back, her breasts pressing into him. “Let me see,” she said, reaching out for the tissue. He turned and was startled when his cell phone, which was plugged in next to his bed, began to ring. “Shit,” he growled. “Austin,” he said, by way of greeting after he’d picked it up and hit the on button. “This had better be good.” “No, it definitely isn’t good. As a matter of fact, it fucking sucks,” Rylie said. “Rylie, don’t you have a home?” Brandon groaned, knowing that Rylie wouldn’t be calling him unless it was trouble. “Yeah, and I was in it until I got a call from the wonderful SAPD. Our four suspects are all dead, Brandon. Every last one of them.” “Dead? That’s not possible.” “It’s very possible. Anaphylactic shock is what the coroner is calling it on all four. They each have welts just under their middle fingers on their palms. The coroner hasn’t gotten the final results back, but I’m betting they were all poisoned by the men dressed up as their lawyers.” Rylie held the phone away from her ear, waiting for Brandon to blow up when he realized what she’d said. He didn’t disappoint her. “What the fuck do you mean by dressed up as their lawyers?” “You got the card from the lawyer. The firm of Brigham, Casper & Cullen does not exist. I’ve checked every registry that I can think of.” She felt a hand on her arm and looked up to see Dillon standing in front of her. “How’s my sister?” he asked, nodding towards the phone. 157
Wendy Stone She held up a finger, listening to Brandon. “Yeah, I also thought of that, but there’s no way to know for sure. We’ve got pictures of all four of the so called lawyers, and two of their cards, we’re checking for finger prints and sending the pictures through a face recognition program now.” “My sister?” Dillon reminded her, almost growling as she held up her hand again. “I’ll let you know when I know. Bran,” she paused, taking a deep breath. “Dillon would like to know how his sister is.” Rylie almost smiled as she heard the curse that Brandon used. “Okay, I’ll be sure to give him that message verbatim.” She flipped the phone closed, and smiled up at Dillon. “Your sister is fine.” “That isn’t what he said,” Dillon laughed. “But I admire your tact. Are you done here?” “God, I hope so. There isn’t much more I can do tonight.” “Good, I’m taking you out to dinner and then home so we can get some sleep,” he said, grasping her arm just above the elbow and turning her. “Whoa, wait a minute, biker boy.” She yanked her arm out of his hand. “What’s this ‘we’ stuff?” He smiled, his teeth seeming almost impossibly white against his tanned skin. “Oh, come on, Rylie, you’d make me go back to my brother’s home this late at night? I might wake up Angel. You wouldn’t want that to happen, now would you.” “She’s going to have to get used to it after the baby’s born,” she said slowly, her blue eyes sparkling. “But she’s brewing up a baby right now, if I woke her it might…damage something.” He ran his finger down over her cheek, stroking over the softness where a dimple would peek if she’d let herself smile at his foolishness. Rylie sighed, her normal bullshit radar was as tired as the rest of her. “Okay, you can take me to dinner and then back to my place,” she agreed, quickly adding the rest as a huge grin covered his handsome face. “Where you’ll sleep on my couch for the rest of the night.” “Okay,” he said, his grin never fading. “But I think we’d be more comfortable in your bed than on the couch.” She gave up, shaking her head though her smile was bright. “How your mother dealt with you, I’ll never know. If you were half as much a 158
Heaven In Her Eyes pain in her ass as you are in mine, she must have had the patience of a saint.” “Oh yes, she also loved me to distraction.” He let his hand rest along her lower back, his fingers slipping over the curve of her ass, rubbing gently against the fabric of her jeans. “I guess someone had to,” she smirked, smacking his hand as it tried to rub against her. “Will you behave?” He sighed heavily, pulling his hands back from her tempting form and followed her out of the police building. “If I promise to behave, can I have a kiss?” he asked, his smile charming and sincere. “You are incorrigible,” she said shaking her head in amazement. “Do you ever give up?” “Not when it’s something I want,” he said, his amber eyes turning gold as they slid over her body. “I want you, Rylie. Probably more than anything else I’ve ever wanted in my life.” They were in the parking lot across from the police building. Rylie hit the button on her key ring that would unlock her car doors. She felt her pulse jump and then race at his words, the time they’d spent together already having given her a taste of what he was capable of. Even as her mind tried to dismiss the words he spoke as being a come on, her body wanted to weaken, to turn and slam him against the side of her dark blue Mustang. She could imagine his face if she gave into the desire. The look of surprise in his eyes that would quickly turn to heat, changing the amber to liquid gold, teaming with passion. Her hands actually itched to feel him under her, to give in to what she wanted and… “Rylie?” Dillon grabbed her arms, running his hands up the smooth leather of her jacket, wishing it was her soft flesh instead. “Daydreaming about me?” he whispered, bending closer, his lips mere inches from hers. “In your dreams,” she answered, blinking and pushing him back. “Get in the car.” **** Jackson Clinton stared down at the soft flesh of the girl who writhed underneath his naked body, tears of pain in her big brown eyes. She was beautiful, fresh, her skin soft and fine-grained. Her body was slim and trim, curved and lovely, especially now that it was marred by the bruises from his fingertips. “Very nice,” he growled, his fingers squeezing 159
Wendy Stone around the plump mound of her breast, seeing her nipple seem to swell between two of his digits. “Please,” she whispered, her voice full of pain and fear. “Please don’t hurt me anymore.” “You agreed, Deanne, to spending some time with me. You signed the paper giving me the right to do whatever I wanted for my money.” His voice was harsh, his blue eyes hard and cruel. “I…I didn’t think…You…you seemed so nice before.” She felt a sob escape her, tears sliding from her eyes to drip into her dark hair. “I don’t want to do this anymore.” Jackson moved inside of her, his hard cock seeming to swell even more at the sight of her tears, as the scent of her fear flooded into him. It was so erotic, so sensual, hearing her gasps of pain, her cries of horror as he forced himself into her, pushing his cock into her dry flesh. She hadn’t been a virgin, but she’d told him she’d only been with a man twice, once in high school, the other on her summer home from college. “I don’t understand, Deanne. How can a girl with tits like this not have the guys beating down her door?” He moved his fingers to the soft round tip, pulling on it with two fingers then letting it loose, watching her flesh jiggle. His hips moved faster, her reaction, the horror and pain upon her face, exciting him until he couldn’t control himself any longer. He rammed into her, keeping his eyes upon her face, listening to her cries and moans. With a shout, he pushed into her one last time, his cock spewing its potent seed deep inside of her. “Ahh,” he groaned, shivering above her before collapsing against her, letting her feel his full weight with no regard to her wellbeing. He felt her struggle under him, fighting his weight to be able to breathe. Her hands came up to his chest, pushing against him. “Hold still,” he growled, lifting some of his weight onto his elbows. “Now we have to talk.” He laughed, taking a deep breath. “I guess I should say, I’m going to talk and you’re going to listen. What happened tonight, that’s between you and me. Understand? If I hear you spreading rumors or telling your father anything, he’ll be out of his job. You know what happens if he loses his job, don’t you?” “T…they’ll put him back in prison,” she sniffed. “I…I won’t tell, please, just let me up, let me go.” “Oh, not yet, baby. We need to talk a little while longer.” He could feel her squirming, the mascara running down her cheeks now as she 160
Heaven In Her Eyes sobbed. He used his thumbs, carefully wiping the makeup from her face. “Stop crying,” he ordered. Deanne made a desperate effort, almost holding her breath in an attempt to hold back the sobs. “I…I’m sorry,” she whispered, dropping her eyes and not looking at him. His hand went to her breast, his fingers fiddling with her nipple, gently twisting the tender tip until it grew hard. He dropped a light kiss upon her cheek, hearing her gasp as he continued his play. “You and I need to get to know each other better,” he whispered, his mouth at her ear. “I don’t think I’m ready to let you leave yet.” “Please, sir…I…I’m so sore. Please let me go!” He chuckled. His hips moved and he felt his cock tingle still encased in her tight pussy. It started growing hard and he watched her wriggle under him, trying to get away. “No…not again, please,” she begged, pushing at his heavy body with ineffectual hands. “Please, it hurts,” she cried, every movement of his body causing a stab of pain between her thighs. “I will let you go,” he said harshly, panting as her pleading and pain caused him to harden in a rush. “You will be taken to your apartment where you will pack a bag, along with some nice clothes because I will expect you to accompany me to some parties. Then you will return here, to me.” “No,” she begged, pushing at him more. “No, I don’t want to come back. I was wrong, I shouldn’t have made this deal.” Jackson grabbed her throat, his hands squeezing lightly, holding her to the bed. She was so tiny almost child-like, though he knew she was nineteen. Everything but her breasts, for those were a handful of taut flesh. “Baby, you don’t want me to get angry now do you?” he whispered, moving against her. She shook her head, her dark hair flowing over her pillow in tangled waves. “No, please,” she whispered hoarsely, biting down on her lip. Her hands fell to the bed and she closed her eyes, unable to look at him any longer. “Good girl,” he said, lifting his hand off her throat. He reached down, lifting one of her legs and then the other, pushing them open, his mouth near her ear as he continued to fuck her. “Now,” he hissed, “this is what you’re going to do.” **** 161
Wendy Stone Angel woke, her stomach tightening almost painfully. She took a deep breath, blowing it out slowly as she waited for it to end. She still had a little time until her due date but first babies came on their own time schedule, not what a doctor or midwife said. She could feel Hunter at her back, his big hand resting against the painful tightness of her belly, his body against hers. She loved his warmth and snuggled back into him, hearing him mumble her name. “Baby, you okay?” he murmured, his hand caressing her gently. “Yeah,” she said, relaxing back into him as the pain stopped and the sudden urge to pee came over her. “The baby’s lying on my bladder,” she sighed, hearing him chuckle. “You know,” he laughed, “my mom always said, ‘God made women pregnant for nine months so that by the time the baby was ready to come, a woman would go through almost anything to have the pregnancy over with.’” He got out of bed, naked as the day he was born and walked around to her side, holding out his hand to help her off the low mattress. She took it, letting him heft her cumbersome body up and then went into his arms, snuggling against him. “I agree with your mother,” she said softly. “I’ve forgotten what my feet look like.” “They’re cute, with little pink toes that always make me want to suck on them,” he said, kissing her and then letting her go. He stretched and yawned, rubbing his hand across his chest while he watched her waddle her way into the bathroom. From behind, he thought, you couldn’t even really tell she was pregnant, it was only when you saw the firm ball of her belly that you knew. Angel came back a few minutes later and climbed back into bed to curl up in his arms. She was almost asleep, her eyes growing steadily heavier when another pain struck. “Oh,” she hissed, blowing out a long breath. “Angel? What is it?” “I think it’s the baby,” she said.
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Chapter Fifteen Dillon followed Rylie into the comfortable interior of her apartment, his eyes gliding over the smooth perfection of her figure, stopping at the tight rounded curve of her ass in her well-washed jeans. She walked with a sexy stride, cool, confident, the slink of a feline predator advancing on her prey. She took his breath away. Since the first moment he’d laid eyes on her at Brandon’s apartment, he hadn’t been able to get her out of his head. She was beautiful, probably more so than a woman had the right to be— at least a woman who carried a badge. Honey blonde hair, beautiful sapphire blue eyes, lush lips, they taunted him, making him desperate for a taste, a touch, a simple caress. She also scared him to death. He hadn’t felt this way so quickly since…shit, he’d never felt this way about a woman. Right now wasn’t the time or the place to finally figure out he had a heart. There was too much at stake right now and not all of it here in Texas. He had a business to run, Hunter Detective Agency, his baby. He’d started it when he got out of college, after Shanna had run off with that loser Clinton. It had been a simple one-room office over the top of a local garage. The stairs leading up to it had been made of wood, slippery as slick shit in the winter, they had creaked under even the slightest of weights. But he’d persevered, despite the lousy location and the cranky heater that had water freezing in the tiny bathroom. His first case, oh God, he hadn’t thought about that in so long. Kathy Ricker, a tall brunette with legs that just didn’t stop. Her husband was fooling around on her. She needed the proof to get out of their prenuptial agreement. Dillon had gotten the proof in aces, pictures, sound tracks, phone numbers, all of it. Kathy had been very grateful, he 163
Wendy Stone remembered with a grin. She’d helped him baptize his new offices in more ways than one. Now he owned a suite of offices in downtown Lansing, Michigan. He had others working for him. Now, he only took the cases that interested him, leaving the others for his employees. He had a secretary, a cute little redhead whose husband would cheerfully kill Dillon if he touched her. “Thanks for the dinner,” Rylie said, interrupting his trip into his memories. “Not a problem, I really enjoyed myself as well,” he said, his hand coming up to brush a stray curl from her cheek. “I want to see you again, Rylie.” Rylie felt her heart give a strange thump, the touch of his fingers so gentle upon her skin and the deep, husky rasp of his voice gave her a thrill she hated to acknowledge. “I…I don’t think it’s a good idea, Dillon.” “Then I guess it’s up to me to change your mind,” he whispered, moving closer to her and tipping up her chin. His mouth lowered slowly, his lips parting to brush over hers. It was a gentle kiss, no more than a hint of a touch against the sensitive swell of her lips. His eyes opened, gazing at her as if memorizing her features. She could feel his thumb, brushing against the soft pink curve of her bottom lip. It caused a strange tingle and a shudder to ripple through her, forcing her eyes opened. His were fiery gold, full of heat and need, making her moan. “D…Dillon,” she whispered. “Hush, baby, it’s all right.” He parted her lips, his thumb brushing against the wetness of her inner mouth, feeling her tongue come out to flick against the calloused pad. He groaned as she closed her lips around it, suckling gently. “You are a tease,” he said, chuckling softly. He pulled his thumb out, bending his head once more, this time his mouth was hot and hungry his tongue eager for the taste of her. He was almost desperate to hear her moan, to feel the warmth of her naked body under his. With a growl, he yanked her closer, jerking her to him, her breasts flattening on the hard plains of his chest. Rylie was lost in sensation, his lips so soft, yet powerful and causing heat to burn in her belly. She mewled under the attack, her head falling back, giving him even more access to her lips, her tongue slipping into his mouth to intertwine with his.
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Heaven In Her Eyes When he finally pulled back, they were both panting, Dillon’s face was hard, his expression one of lusty restraint, a question burning in his golden eyes. “The couch or your bed, Rylie, which one do you prefer?” “You’re pretty sure of yourself, biker boy.” She laughed, a husky sound that tickled his senses. “What makes you think I’ll sleep with you?” “Honey, I don’t want to sleep with you. Right now, I don’t think either of us wants sleep.” Her hands played with the front of his shirt, rubbing gently over his chest in small circles. “What if I said no?” she asked him, glancing up into his eyes and then dropping her own until they seemed to focus with avid concentration on the pattern she was drawing with her finger. He lifted her chin, his mouth finding hers again, gently drawing her bottom lip into his mouth to tease with his tongue. His hands slipped over her firm, beautiful ass, pulling her closer, so she couldn’t help but feel the hard length of his cock. He kissed her until she was breathless, until everything disappeared around her but the hard, solid warmth of his body, the caress of his hands and the taste of his mouth. “Do you want to say no, Rylie?” he asked her, his lips still against hers. “If you want me to stop, I will. Do you want me to stop?” Rylie slid her hands up the wide breadth of his chest, feeling the muscles tense against her touch, as if she’d caused sensations that were too overwhelming. She trailed her fingers around his neck, feeling the rough rasp of whiskers on his cheeks before pulling his head down closer to her. His mustache tickled her upper lip, making her moan. “No,” she breathed, almost too quietly for him to hear. “I don’t want you to stop.” He growled low in his throat, the sound almost animalistic. Picking her up in his arms, he walked with a determined stride towards her bedroom, not giving her a chance to change her mind. The bed was still mussed from earlier and he slid her down his body, letting her feet touch the ground, moaning at the contact of her curved flesh against him. She felt his hands on her shoulders, pushing her leather blazer off her shoulders and letting it hit the floor. Her shoulder rig was next— dropped to the night stand, her cell phone next to it. Then he pulled her tee shirt off, leaving her naked from the waist up but for the tiny wisp of silk and lace she called a bra. It framed her breasts, barely rising above her hard nipples. The pale pink color set off her skin, making it look even creamier. 165
Wendy Stone He stared at the heavy mounds, his eyes heating even more. He wanted to touch her, to bury his face in the deep cleavage that was so close, to run his tongue over ever inch of sweet, pale flesh until she burned under him like fire. Lifting one trembling hand, he ran his fingers over the tops of her breasts, rounded above the silk and lace, barely brushing against the softness of her skin. “You are so beautiful,” he whispered, seeing her in the light from the living room. Rylie bit her lower lip, her breathing becoming erratic as he touched her. She sucked in her stomach when his fingers slid over the slim, taut muscles on their way to the button of her jeans. He undid the button, gently sliding the tab of her zipper down its track. The pale pink silk of her panties could be seen in the vee shaped opening created by her zipper and he let the back of his fingers slide over it. The silk was smooth, warmed from her body, but he knew of something that felt much better. With a low sound that could have been a groan, he slipped his fingers inside the taut elastic band, feeling the soft, slightly raised flesh of her sex. He curled his fingers, pushing one inside the thin slit, feeling her wetness, her heat. “Oh shit, Rylie,” he groaned, his body tensed, his cock throbbing with need inside his jeans. “I want you, honey.” Rylie felt his fingers against her pussy, felt them separate the thick lips, finding the passionate dew that had made her slick. She held on to his shoulders as he played there, his middle finger dipping inside her dripping sex, thrusting with slow strokes even as his thumb plied tiny circles against the hard flesh of her clit. Her hips moved, thrusting in time with his hand, bringing her ever nearer to the ecstatic joy of completion. She moaned in frustration as he pulled away, bringing his finger to his mouth to taste of her juices, smiling as he watched her eyes flare at the intimacy of the act. His grin grew wider, his hands pushed against her shoulders, knocking her backwards so that the back of her knees caught on the mattress. She landed half on, half off the bed, a look of surprise on her face. “What…?” He reached down, prying the sexy half boots off her slender feet, pulling the fuzzy gray socks she wore under them off also. Then he grabbed the legs of her jeans, giving her no warning, and pulled them off the same way a magician would swipe a tablecloth from under the dishes. All that was missing was the fanfare and the huge “TADA”. 166
Heaven In Her Eyes He dropped the jeans to the floor, enjoying how she looked against the comforter, the way the pink silk set off the rosy hue to her skin, the flush on her cheeks from desire. Then, with the same sexy grin she found so hard to resist, he dropped his leather coat on the floor next to hers, pulled his pistol and laid it on the table by hers then ripped his shirt off over his head Rylie watched as he stripped, her eyes growing wide as she feasted her gaze on the wide plain of his chest, the muscled ridges of his abdomen, his strong shoulders. Her eyes slipped lower, seeing his hands on the buttons at the front of his jeans, the hard ridge of his cock easily seen against the well washed material. He hesitated, his eyes questioning. “I want you, Dillon,” she said, her voice soft, her fingers curling in a beckoning motion. “So strip, biker boy, and come here.” He chuckled at her choice of endearment, kicking off his shoes he slid his jeans and boxers down together. His cock stood proud and erect in front of her, slapping his stomach as he bent down to sweep the rest of his clothes off his legs. When he stood back up, Rylie was sitting in front of him, her hand reaching out to trace one finger gently down the flared head of his cock before grasping it in her warm hand. Dillon stared down at the half naked woman, whose mouth was only a mere breath away from where he wanted it most. His hand came down, resting against her head, watching as she licked her lips before parting them and kissing the sensitive end of his cock. He felt her tongue swipe delicately and heard the small hum of pleasure she gave as she tasted him for the first time. Then her lips opened wider, encompassing the glans and suckled, swirling her tongue around him. Pleasure erupted down his spine as the heat of her mouth showed him no mercy. She bobbed up and down, her other hand coming up to softly caress his hanging balls, squeezing them with gentle tenacity. He could feel the pressure building, the urge to come growing ever stronger. With a groan, he pulled away from her mouth, bending down to take her lips with his and pushing her back on the bed with the weight of his body. “My turn,” he growled against her lips, his hands feeling for the clasp that undid her bra. Slipping it free, he pulled the pale pink cups from her firm breasts and admired the rosy nipples that capped each mound. He trailed his fingers over them, feeling their almost rubbery hardness. 167
Wendy Stone Cupping his hand under one, he lifted it, to bring her taut nipple to his lips, to taste her flesh. The sound of her, the soft mewling noise, the gasp of her breath, the sweet moan of pleasure she gave at the feel of his lips was like a siren’s song to his ears. He could feel his cock straining, wanting so badly to sink inside of her, to feel her warmth for the first time. But he wanted to drive her mad with desire, make her as mindless in passion as she’d been earlier. He wanted to know she felt like he did, that this attraction between the two of them was more than just sex. “You like that, baby?” he growled, nipping the taut tip in his mouth, nudging it with his tongue before sucking it deep, feeling her back arch as the sensations shot through her. He cupped her other breast, playing with the other hard tip, laughing when her hands came up and threaded through his hair, pulling out the silver clip he used to keep it back. “Don’t stop,” she moaned, holding him to her breast, her hips moving under the weight of his body, rubbing against his muscled stomach. Her legs slid up his, the soft skin rubbing erotically against his hair-roughened thighs. Her cries grew louder as the suction upon her breast brought the heat of pleasure to her loins, a tension that grew until she thought she would explode. She muttered her disappointment when he released her breast, his lips scorching a trail of heat across the rounded mound of her breast, finding the taut flesh that felt like soft satin. Her body writhed under the wicked caress of his mouth, her hands grabbed for him as if he were the only stable thing in her world. She gasped as his nose brushed across the bare soft mound of her sex, his fingers slipping between her thighs to part her swollen lips, holding her open to his inspection. “You’re beautiful,” he whispered, sliding one finger over the pink petals of her sex, feeling her rich and abundant moisture. He slid his tongue through the moisture, moaning as her taste exploded in his mouth, the scent of her arousal driving him ever on. Then he feasted. Rylie felt the first swipe of his tongue against her sensitive flesh, heard him moaning in pleasure and was lost to the world of sinful delight. She closed her eyes against the sight of his face, there between her slender thighs. In the darkness of that world, even the slightest of caresses seemed to heat her blood further until she was a mass of sensitive flesh, begging him to end the torment and let her come. 168
Heaven In Her Eyes Her hips danced against his mouth, her satiny walls clung to his fingers as he thrust them inside of her. She was tight and hot around him and he felt his cock twitch with anticipation. “P…please, Dillon,” Rylie cried out, her hands burying themselves in the long strands of his hair. “God, I need you!” He rose over her, his face tight with his own restrained passion. Climbing up her body, he nuzzled his face against her belly, between her breasts, stopping to kiss each pale tip before finding her mouth. Rylie ran her hands down the sleek muscles of his back, admiring the tone and texture of his flesh even as it stimulated her more. He was so strong, he easily lifted her, rolling to his back, his hand cupping the back of her head and holding her to him. The strength was there, so apparent in the hard muscles she stroked, in the long length of his body. But the gentleness was there also, easily seen in the way he held her, the feel of his fingers against her nape, the care he showed her when he finally sat her up, guiding her down onto the heated length of his erection. He groaned, she whimpered, biting her lip at the fullness inside of her. She moved over him slowly, taking scant inches of his hardness, rocking over him until he was finally buried inside of her. His hands came to her waist, holding her, savoring the heat of her around his cock, the sight of her over him. She was exquisite in her passion, her cheeks flushed, her blue eyes almost glowing, heavy lidded, as the pupils dilated with pleasure. Her breasts rose and fell with her breathing and he reached up, taking one hard nipple between his fingers, rolling it gently. He could feel her tighten around him, her sweet, satiny walls caressing his shaft even as she began to move faster, grinding against him. Her skin seemed to gleam in the light from the living room, her body glistening with a sheen of perspiration. Dillon growled as every movement she made sent him closer to climax. Just watching her was sensualism at its finest. He ran his hands over her straining thigh muscles, pulling her down on him with exquisite force, his body rising to meet hers, his muscles straining as he held back his pleasure by sheer will. Rylie couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t think, all she could do was feel the torturous pounding of Dillon’s body against hers. She could do nothing but hold on as he took her up, filling her with his heat. She trembled upon the brink of passionate fulfillment, her body tight, arched 169
Wendy Stone back, her eyes opening and staring down at him. “O…Oh,” she gasped. “D…Dillon…” “That’s it,” he growled gutturally. “Come for me, Rylie. Come on my cock.” “Yes,” she moaned, then cried out as prickly, heated waves of pleasure burst from deep in her belly, quickly flowing over her, causing her to shudder over him. She heard his voice, her name shouted from his lips as his own powerful climax took him, sending pulse after sweet pulse of his seed deep inside her body. It seemed to trigger something in her, those spurts, sending another sweet shiver of pleasure down her spine, continuing over and over until finally she collapsed, her head falling to his shoulder. She felt his chest heaving under her body as he fought to find air for his beleaguered lungs and she started to roll away, stopped by his arms. “Where are you going?” he said softly. “I’m too heavy, you can’t breathe.” She glanced into his face, seeing the twinkle in those golden orbs. “I’ll manage,” he smirked, laughing when she smacked him lightly. “You are terrific, Rylie.” He wrapped his arms around her tighter, blowing a lock of her hair off his face. She leaned back a little to allow her to look down at him. “Do you hear music?” “Baby, I know I’m good but even I can’t make that happen,” he chuckled at his own wit. “Neanderthal,” she muttered but without any heat. “No, I hear music.” “Shit, it’s my phone.” He tumbled her off him, reaching down to fish his jacket out of the pile of clothes on the floor. Grabbing it out of the pocket, he checked the caller ID. The number on the display wasn’t one he recognized. He clicked it on. “This had better be good,” he growled. Rylie looked over at him as he listened to the person on the other end of the line, and saw a smile form on his handsome face. “Judah? Damn boy, I forgot you were getting out. Where are you?” He sat up, lifting his knee to prop his elbow on it. “Ah, I’m not in Michigan right now. Shanna left her husband and the ass is giving her grief. I’m in Texas.” He grinned again. “But hell, yeah. Tell me where you are and I’ll wire you enough money to make the rest of the trip in style.” 170
Heaven In Her Eyes Rylie watched him, wishing she could hear the other side of the conversation. But Dillon didn’t seem to want to share. “She's hanging in there. She managed to go out and get hooked up with a fed.” He heard Judah snort over the tenuous connection and felt Rylie jab him in the ribs with her fist. He smiled angelically back at her and grabbed her hand, kissing her knuckles even when she tried to pull away. “There's no telling when I'll be back,” he continued. “But hey, it's cool, just go into the office when you get to Lansing and look for the cutest little redhead behind the front desk. I'll call her and tell her you're on your way. She'll give you the spare set of keys to my house and the keys to my car, I left it at the office. You wreck it though and I'm docking your pay.” “Julie’s good,” he said after a pause, not relinquishing Rylie’s hand. “She sent me a copy of her last report card. Dean's list all the way. We know who got the brains in your family.” “I didn't tell her either. Listen, when you get there, give me a call. I should know better about when I'll be back. Just be safe, Jude, I've missed you.” Something Jude said made him snort and he shook his head. “Yeah, fuck you too, cuz. I'll tell Shanna you said hi. She always did have a soft spot for you. Take care, Jude.” He turned off the phone, and dropped it back in his pocket. “Hooked up with a fed? What the hell do you think you just did?” Rylie growled, jumping on him as soon as he dropped his jacket back on the floor. Dillon caught her, feeling her naked body wiggling and wriggling against his in the most arousing manner. He bore her straight to her back on the bed, easily climbing between her thighs once more. With one push, his cock slid into her, making her groan. “Wanna hook up again?” he asked, making her laugh. “I was right,” she sighed, her body already feeling the pleasure he brought her. “You are incorrigible.” Her hips moved under his. “All right, biker boy, let’s see what you can do.” **** Boarding his private plane, Jackson Clinton smiled, seeing Deanne seated in one of the seats while across the aisle from her, Danielle was 171
Wendy Stone going through some paperwork. She rose when he entered, going to the small galley and getting him a cup of coffee without asking, adding the small amount of cream he took. Jackson sat down next to Deanne, his eyes roaming over her outfit. It was one he’d picked out for her, a short black skirt that showed off her long trim legs, a white satin blouse with a small strand of perfectly matched pearls around her slim throat. Her hair was pulled up on the sides, the back left free to fall like silk past her slender shoulders. She wore a hint of mascara, the tiniest touch of blusher to give some color to her pale cheeks, and a soft green shadow across her eyelids that brought out the deep brown of her eyes. She’d have been beautiful if not for the expression in those eyes. They were dull, dead looking, as if she’d given up hope. The long sleeves of her blouse covered the bruises he’d given her, finger-sized welts wrapped around each arm. Her breasts also bore his marks, welts and bruises that were swollen and painful to the touch. She’d been with him for three days now, sleeping in his bed, living in his home. The abuse had continued from the first time he’d taken her and she’d born it all with a stoicism he found fascinating. Even Shanna hadn’t handled what he gave her in this manner. Crying while he fucked her, whining and whimpering about the pain he gave her. Deanne took it. She didn’t speak to him, just sat there while he laid his hand on her knee, sliding it up and under the hem of her skirt. “We’ll be leaving in a little bit. I have a couple of associates coming with us, just in case there is any trouble with my wife.” “That’s fine sir, I have the documents you requested typed up and I’ve made the changes you stipulated in the contracts. All I need is your signature,” Danielle rose from her seat, bringing over the thick pile of papers, all neatly done and knowing Danielle, without a single error. “Thank you, Danielle. I can always count on you in everything, can’t I?” He took the papers and the pen she handed him, signing the lines she indicated and initialing the pages. He looked up briefly when two men came onto the airplane, both huge individuals who looked as if they were professional football players. They nodded, taking the seats closest to the front of the plane. “Let the pilot know we are ready to go whenever we get clearance, Danielle,” he said, handing her back the papers and picking up his coffee to sip. “Deanne, my dear, come sit on my lap.” He patted his knees, 172
Heaven In Her Eyes watching as the girl’s eyes grew wide and she looked at the other people in the plane with a look of utter horror on her face. “B…but we’re about to take off, I should be in my own seat,” she argued feebly, knowing she had no choice but to do what he wished. “Deanne,” Jackson said again, his voice calm but with an undercurrent that threatened reprisal. “Don’t make me ask again.” A single tear trekked down her pale face as she unbuckled her seat belt. She rose, feeling his hands on the bottom of her skirt, pulling it up so her bare bottom was against his lap. The front of her skirt rose, making it plain to anyone looking that she wasn’t wearing undergarments. Deanne closed her eyes, mortified as Jackson settled her as he wanted her, her legs spread open on either side of his legs. “Relax, Deanne,” he whispered into her ear, his hands sliding up her thighs to meet at the smooth fleshy lips of her pussy. “This is going to be an enjoyable flight for you.” **** Brandon sat at his desk in the federal building in downtown San Antonio staring at the file folders he had spread out across its once pristine surface. He was reading his fourth coroner’s report, all of them saying the same thing. All four men had died of anaphylactic shock. “How is this possible?” he snarled. “All four of them were exposed to blowfish toxin? All four of them?” He pushed the files back, leaning back in his chair and feeling as if the weight of the world had dropped on his shoulders. Stretching his arms above his head, he tried to find the calm he was known for. But it was different this time. It wasn’t some case he was on. This was Shanna. If something happened to her… “It won’t,” he told himself, rocking the chair back and forth. “What won’t?” Rylie asked him, coming into the room. “Nothing, just talking to myself,” he said, staring past her and out his door. “Where’s your shadow?” “He’s taking Shanna over to see Angel. Did you know Aaron took her to the hospital last night?” She cocked her hip against the corner of his desk, turning the file he was looking at around to give her a better angle. “What? No, I didn’t know. Is she okay?” “Yeah, false labor. Uh, Braxton Hicks contractions, I think they’re called. They said she’s not even the least bit dilated, so she’s still got 173
Wendy Stone plenty of time to simmer that baby.” She looked up as Brandon made a strangled sound. “You know, partner, I really could have done without that amount of information,” he said, shuddering. “Wuss,” Rylie grinned. “And proud of it,” he snapped right back. “So did you find anything in the files?” She got up, to prowl around the small office, stopping to look out the window at the street below. “Nope, nothing you hadn’t already told me when you called. How do four men die from the same toxin?” She shrugged. “I came up zero on following the firm’s name. It just doesn’t exist anywhere. I did take the two cards that were here down to fingerprinting. They got one partial but the rest are smeared pretty badly. They’re running the partial now, but I gotta tell you, Bran, it’ll take the luck of a leprechaun for us to get anything off it.” He sighed. “So we’re back to square one?” “Nope, we’re looking for Simon…something foreign. And I’m going back with a couple of the SAPD guys to see what we can dig up on our four guys. They have to have had something in common—a name, a place, something. We’ll keep digging until we find what we need to put that bastard behind bars.” She dropped her hand on his shoulder, squeezing it affectionately. “You’re sure chipper this morning,” he said, looking up at her suspiciously. “Can’t a girl be in a good mood?” she asked, smiling serenely. “A girl can, sure, but you can’t. What’s up?” He stood, going over to her and taking her shoulders in his hands. “You’re blushing. Wait a minute. You got laid, didn’t you?” “My sex life or lack thereof is none of your concern, Special Agent Austin,” Rylie said primly, cursing the fair skin that always blushed so easily. “Now can we get back to the case?” “Oh no, no, I don’t think so,” he grinned. “Not until you tell me who you were with last night. Was it the new guy, the one that transferred in from Miami?” “No, and may I just say…ugh. Yuck! Please, partner, give me more credit than that.” “Then who…oh shit.” He dropped his hands, staring at her as if she had just grown two heads. “You didn’t…tell me you didn’t sleep with Dillon Hunter.” 174
Heaven In Her Eyes “Okay,” she said, her eyes twinkling. “I didn’t sleep with Dillon Hunter. Satisfied?” “You’re lying. Fuck, Rylie, do you know what kind of man he is?” Brandon jerked away from her, pacing the small floor space in front of his desk. “He’s a decent man who loves his family.” Rylie glared at Brandon, not understanding why he was suddenly all uptight over her sleeping with someone. “What’s the big deal anyway? It’s just sex.” “The man is a womanizer of the worst kind. I’ve heard about him from Hunt since I first met him. Hunt used to tell me everything Dillon did, all his many conquests.” He turned and glared at her. “How long have I known you, Rye? In all of those years, I’ve never heard you say it’s just sex. You would never jump into bed with a guy just to have sex. There have always been feelings behind the act.” “Well, maybe I’m tired of getting my feelings stamped on and then given back to me, when a man can’t handle the fact I can knock him on his ass and hog tie him in a matter of seconds. Maybe all I wanted was a night of spectacular, earth shattering sex. Maybe I have needs and desires that I need to fulfill also.” She got into his face. “What business is it of yours anyway?” “I don’t want to see you get hurt, Rye. You’re not just my partner, you’re my friend too. And besides, who do you think will be picking up the pieces when he leaves?” “Maybe someone will need to pick up his pieces when I send him home,” she grumbled, a pout forming on her lips. “Did you ever think of that?” “Do you two know you can be heard all the way down to the end of the hall?” The new guy, the one from Miami leaned his head in the doorway. “We’re taking bets to see which one of you punches the other one out first.” “Maybe someone should take odds on you,” Rylie growled, turning on the poor guy. “I bet I can knock you down in about ten seconds.” “Whoa, tiger. I just came in to drop off a message. There’s no need to get nasty.” He held out the white envelope and Brandon snatched it out of his fingers. “Thanks, close the door on your way out,” he said, slitting the envelope open. “Who’s that from?” Rylie said, coming to stand next to him. “I have no clue, someplace in Wyoming.” 175
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Chapter Sixteen Jackson paced back and forth in front of the doorway of his wife’s apartment, his eyes drawn to the yellow crime scene tape that crisscrossed the oak frame. “What did those morons do?” he growled into his phone, hearing the slightly accented voice of his man, Simon, on the other end. “They did as you asked, boss,” the man said. “You wanted it found, they tried to find it.” “And got the cops involved and made my wife disappear in the process. Dammit, Simon, don’t make me have to find a replacement for you.” He slammed the phone closed, ignoring whatever else the man was going to say. “Shanna, wife,” he whispered, his hand brushing over the door. “Where are you?” Then snapping his fingers, he brought his bodyguards to heel and turned away from the apartment, hurrying out to the limousine he had waiting for him. “Where to now, sir?” the driver asked. Jackson gave him the address, his lips quirking with disgust as he thought of what he’d be doing next. “Time to face the in-laws,” he growled before sliding into the car, his hand coming down on Deanne’s knee. “When I find my wife, love, you will learn what I like my women to do. Make sure you watch Shanna, she can teach you all kinds of wonderful tricks, things to do with your hands and mouth to please me. I had nine years to train that bitch before she got nervy enough to leave.” He guided his hand up and down the soft skin of her thigh, feeling the traces of sticky wetness that were just beginning to dry.
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Heaven In Her Eyes **** Shanna hugged Angel cautiously, her eyes on the round burden of her belly. “You’ve dropped,” she said excitedly. “Yeah, isn’t it a joy,” Angel muttered sarcastically, her hand on her lower back where another twinge had started, making it more difficult to walk. “Oh, don’t try that with me, sister. I know you are as anxious as Aaron to finally be able to lay your eyes on this precious bundle.” Shanna sighed wistfully, feeling a small spurt of jealousy. She’d always wanted to be a mother, to take care of a home and raise babies. It might not be too modern to say now, with women holding down careers and raising families, but she’d always dreamed of having a house something like this one and three or four children. “Yeah, well, I’d like it even more if junior here would stay off my bladder,” Angel grumbled, pushing against the pain in her back as she tried to lower herself onto the sofa. She grunted her thanks when Shanna came over to help her, settling back with a disgusted sigh. “Sometimes I think I’ll never see my feet again.” Shanna picked up Angel’s empty glass sitting on the stand next to her and went to the kitchen, comfortable enough in her brother’s home to find her way around. Filling the glass with ice water, she brought it back to Angel and then went to get her a pillow. She propped it under her knees as she slid down on the couch. “You’re spoiling me,” Angel sighed, leaning back and giving Dillon a smile as he stood in the arched doorway. “But don’t stop,” she laughed, making him chuckle. “You deserve a little spoiling, sweetie,” Shanna said, moving around the room. Gathering up the newspaper Aaron had left out, she stacked it neatly on the coffee table. “Besides, that’s my niece or nephew in there.” She gently touched Angel’s stomach, her eyes growing huge as she felt how tight her sister-in-law’s abdomen was. “Are you having contractions, Angel?” “No, just more Braxton-Hicks.” She took a sip of her water, her eyes roaming over Shanna’s face. “You know, besides that bruise on your forehead, I’ve never seen you look better, Shan. You glow.” “I’m in love,” she said, feeling the flush rise on her cheeks. “Brandon is a lucky man.” 177
Wendy Stone Dillon grumbled something beneath his breath that had both women looking at him. Shanna with eyes so like his, telling him he’d better watch himself. “If you ladies are settled, I’m going to go grab a quick shower and a change of clothes.” “Wait a minute, Dillon,” Angel called, winking at Shanna. “I’ve been meaning to ask, where did you stay last night? You sure never came home, the outside light was still on when I got up this morning.” “None of your business, Nosey Nellie,” he called back over his shoulder before whistling his way down the hallway. “Rylie?” Shanna asked, stunned her older brother had managed to make it past the shell Rylie kept around her. “I’d say so, and from the look on his face, I think he might be a touch smitten.” Angel laughed, her fingers tracing circles over her belly. “It’s about damn time, too.” “I couldn’t agree more. He gave up so much having to finish raising Aaron and I after our parents died and then the trouble with Julie and helping out Judah, he deserves all the happiness he can get.” They settled comfortably in the living room, the friendship that had sprouted in a day so long ago in Sebastian’s mansion had grown strong. Angel felt like she finally had a sister in Shanna. “So is Brandon treating you right?” Shanna’s smile grew tender and she felt a blush heat her cheeks. “Yes, he’s been simply wonderful. He wants me to move in with him when this is all through.” Her eyes darkened a little and she bit her lip nervously. “I’m not sure though.” “What’s not to be sure about?” Angel leaned over, grabbing her water and taking a small sip. She felt the now familiar tightening of her stomach, the twinges of pain in her back growing. “Brandon is one of the good guys,” she said, trying to take her mind off the thought that she was beginning to wonder if she was in labor. “I know, it’s just so quick. I mean, I’ve known him for such a short period of time. I love him, but is it moving too quick?” Shanna got to her feet with an ease that made Angel a little jealousy. She paced in front of the coffee table. “I knew I loved your brother a week after I first saw him,” Angel said. “I couldn’t imagine loving anyone else or wanting to be with anyone but Hunter. He’s my life.” She smiled as the baby kicked her suddenly. “Okay, him and junior here are my life,” she laughed, rubbing 178
Heaven In Her Eyes her hand over the little foot or hand that had kicked her. “When it’s right, Shanna, you just know it.” Shanna sat back down, her eyes thoughtful. “With everything that’s been going on, Jackson and those men trying to take me. Then Brandon getting shot and Dillon showing up, it’s almost as if I haven’t had a chance to take a breath. I want so much to be able to erase those memories of what Jackson did to me, to forget him completely. But…” her voice trailed off and she looked helplessly at Angel. “Honey, there’s no way you could forget that time. You were with him so long, part of it while you were still growing up. The things that happened to you, what he did to you and the strength you found to survive it all, have helped to shape the person you are today.” She sat up a little on the couch, putting her hand to her back as another twinge hit, this one growing stronger and making her gasp. “Angel, are you okay?” Shanna was up in an instant, falling to her knees beside Angel. “Is it the baby?” The pain eased and Angel took a deep breath, forcing her body to relax. “I don’t think this is Braxton-Hicks,” she said, her smile tight. “I think maybe we should get in touch with Hunter.” “I’ll call him,” Shanna said, getting up and grabbing the cordless phone that was sitting on the end table. “You just relax. I’ll have him meet us at the hospital, Dillon can drive.” She started to turn on the phone, knowing her brother’s office phone was on speed dial, when she heard a knock on the front door. “I’ll get that,” she told Angel, hurrying down the short hallway that led to the tiny foyer. She hit the button for the speed dial, hearing the connection establish and the phone on the other end ringing. “Hi baby,” Hunt said on the phone. “Are you okay?” “I’m just fine, sweetheart,” Shanna laughed, hearing her brother snort over the connection. “I do believe though that your wife is in labor.” “What?!” She heard the chair scrape back so hard it crashed into the wall behind him. “I’ll be right there.”Hunter said. “No, I’m heading to get Dillon out of the shower and then we’ll take her to the hospital. It would probably be quicker if you meet us there.” She opened the front door, not bothering to look out the small peephole to see who it was. 179
Wendy Stone Hunter heard Shanna’s gasp, heard the phone slip out of her hand and then the three words that chilled him to the bone. “Hello, my wife.” **** Brandon slit open the envelope, and pulled out a card. Flipping it in his hand, he stared at the beautifully painted card. “What the hell is this?” “It looks like a tarot card,” Rylie said, taking the envelope carefully from Brandon. “It’s the Devil card,” he said, looking at the bottom of the brightly colored picture. Bright greens and reds and blues colored the forest and flowers surrounded the figure in the card. The figure itself was somewhat shadowed, a hoofed creature with the bent legs of a goat and the upper body of a man, it almost seemed to dance in the card. “There’s a note,” Rylie said, reaching into the envelope and slowly brought out the folded paper. “Read it,” Brandon said, his eyes never leaving the tarot card. “Mr. Austin,” Rylie read. “I was not given the pleasure of meeting you when you came to the heroic rescue of your friend and his lovely wife. A shame, for I’d have really enjoyed reading for you. Your future is one of very interesting details and intricacies that would prove intriguing to say the least.” Rylie looked up at him. “Did Angel and Hunter go to a fortune teller?” “I have no clue,” Brandon said. “Okay, ah…I have seen danger in your lover’s future. The devil, a card that is very misunderstood, stands for power and excess. Someone who embodies that power and excess is causing your lover danger even as you read this note. You must go to her, Mr. Austin. Now.” “Is it signed?” Brandon dropped the card onto his desk, taking the letter from Rylie’s hands. “Madame Carina. That name doesn’t strike any bells.” As if by mentioning bells he’d conjured them somehow, the phone on his desk blared to life. Brandon grabbed it on the first ring, a feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach. “Austin.” “Bran, this is Hunt. I was just on the phone with Shanna. Angel is in labor.” 180
Heaven In Her Eyes “Congratulations. Before you rush off to the hospital, do you know a Madame…” he didn’t get to finish his sentence because Hunter jumped in, interrupting him. “Something’s happening at my house. Shanna was on the phone with me and then it just went dead. But before it did, I heard a man’s voice say something like ‘hello wife.’ Brandon, I think it was Clinton. I’m on my way over there now…” For an instant, Brandon was back in his dream. Shanna out of his reach, being hurt over and over by the faceless man of his nightmares. He felt that same panic, the same completely helpless feeling as he had the night before. The phone slipped from his nerveless hand and he bobbled it. “Don’t go into the house, Hunt. We’re on our way.” Rylie had her cell phone out, calling SAPD before he hung up his phone. He reached into his desk, pulling out his 9mm and checked the load before pushing it into the holster that sat with such familiarity under his arm. “Come on, Rylie,” he said grimly, hurrying out of the room. “He’s got her, that bastard has got Shanna.” **** Dillon stepped out of the shower, his mind on Rylie. She’d slept in his arms last night, waking him in the morning by climbing on top of him, sliding that fantastic body of hers over him until he’d grabbed her, rolling her under him and taking her with a passion that had seemed endless. He smiled as he grabbed his towel, feeling the marks from her nails on his back. She’d been a little wild cat and he had the scratches to prove it. “Where is it?!” Dillon heard the man’s voice shout and then a thud, as if a body had fallen to the floor. He grabbed his jeans, cursing himself for not bringing his pistol into the bathroom with him. He struggled to get the jeans on over his wet body, then went to the door and opened it just a crack. The hallway was clear, the door to the guest room across the hall was open and he could see his gun, holstered, sitting on the bed. It was so close. Pulling open the door, he cursed silently when it creaked, the sound seeming so loud to his ears. Then he was through and running into his room, scooping up the gun and pulling it from the holster. “You heard me, bitch. I asked you where is it?” A sound came next, the noise of flesh striking flesh and Shanna’s voice crying out in pain. 181
Wendy Stone Dillon’s gold eyes flared with the lust for blood. Someone was hurting his sister and he had an idea who that someone was. He was going to kill him. He went through the door of his room, hurrying towards the living room where he’d left the women. The gun was raised, the safety off as he turned the corner of the hallway, his eyes lighting on the man holding on to Shanna by her arm. “Let her go, fuckwad.” Shanna looked up at him, the relief in her amber eyes quickly changing to horror as he felt the muzzle of a gun being pushed into the back of his head. “No, you drop the gun, fuckwad,” the man behind him said. Dillon cursed, slowly doing as he was told. “I should have known you’d be too cowardly to do your own dirty work, Clinton,” he growled. He watched as his gun was kicked aside, landing just under the couch Angel was lying on. “Ah, Dillon, my wife’s wonderful oldest brother. I kept wondering for the first six months of our marriage when you’d come and take her back. You really should have, you know. I tired of her well before that. Her whimpers and whining were really irksome after a while.” Clinton smiled over at Dillon, then nodded his head at the man behind him. Shanna screamed as she watched the man pistol whip her brother, knocking him to his knees. He hit him once more, this time the ground rushed toward him, blood running from a wound on his head even as darkness slid over him like a heavy blanket. The last thing he heard was his sister’s voice. “Please, Jackson. Please don’t hurt him. If you tell me what you want I’ll get it for you and then you can leave.” “You’re going with me, Shanna,” Jackson said, his smile growing as he saw the horror in his wife’s expressive eyes. “You’ve damaged my pride by running from me and at such a terrible time. The election is coming up, I should be out campaigning. Instead, I’ve had to fly to Texas to collect you.” He grabbed a hold of her blouse with his hand, his fingers digging into the fabric, ripping seams with casual ease. “You’ve caused me too much trouble this time, wife. I think you know what that means.” “Leave her alone,” Angel shouted, trying to get up off the couch as Shanna’s husband slapped her once more. She groaned as another contraction hit, this one feeling as if her body was being torn in two. 182
Heaven In Her Eyes “Tie up this one and the one on the couch,” Jackson told his men. “Make sure you tie her ankles together. I don’t want her getting up and getting away when we’ve left.” “You can’t,” Shanna gasped, her hand holding her cheek. “She’s in labor, Jackson. Please, leave her alone. I’ll come with you, gladly, if you just leave her alone.” “Oh, Shanna, trying to exchange favors with me? That is so sweet my dear.” He turned to his men who looked ill at ease with the orders they’d been given. “You heard me, tie her up.” Shanna threw herself at him, her eyes wild with concern for her friend and the baby she carried. “No, dammit.” She balled her small hands into fists, striking at Jackson’s face and his chest, hitting him wildly in an effort to protect Angel. “You son of a bitch, hurt me if you want but she’s innocent and so is the baby.” “No woman is innocent,” Jackson leered, easily dodging her fists, tripping her casually and watching as she tried to get up from the floor. “You’re all sluts for something, especially you. Did you tell your friend about the three men you fucked? Did you tell her about how you groaned and writhed under their bodies as they all took you? Did you rave to her about how it felt when they fucked you everywhere you were fuckable?” He laughed, seeing the pain of memory in Shanna’s face and the look of horror in Angel’s. The bodyguard made quick work of tying Dillon up, bringing in a chair from the dining room and tying him tightly to it. He pulled a piece of duct tape off a roll he’d grabbed from the kitchen, taping Dillon’s mouth closed. Then he turned towards Angel. “Boss, I don’t know about this.” Jackson looked up at the man from where he was standing over Shanna. His eyes narrowed as he stared at the huge brute’s face. “I don’t pay you to think, I pay you to do as you’re told. Now tie the bitch up.” “But, she’s pregnant boss.” “Really, and here I was thinking she was just fat.” Jackson growled his disgust even as he moved away from Shanna. He slammed his hand into the middle of the bigger man’s chest. “Do it,” he glared at him until he moved away, heading towards Angel with a hesitant step. “I’m sorry, Miss,” he whispered when he reached her. Angel fought him even as he wrapped duct tape around her arms, tying them tightly together behind her back. Another pain took her, this 183
Wendy Stone one lasting longer and she gasped, trying to catch her breath. “Please,” she groaned. “Please don’t kill my baby.” The man stood up, the duct tape in his hand, staring at Jackson. “I can’t do it. I can’t tie her legs together, not now.” “God!” Jackson exclaimed. “How do I manage to find such incompetent people?” He turned to Shanna, dragging her up off the floor. “Where is your purse? I know you don’t go anywhere without it.” “M…my purse? It’s out in Dillon’s car. Why?” She cringed when he raised his hand, ready to slap her again. “You really have forgotten everything I’d taught you. You don’t question me. Now we are going to leave and you are going to get that purse. I want your compact, Shanna. When you left, you took something very important to me with you and I want it back.” Clinton dragged her against him, steering her toward the front door. “If you fight with me, I will start the house on fire with these lovely people in it. Got me, bitch?” “I won’t,” Shanna agreed helplessly, her eyes connecting one last time with Angel’s. She was terrified, her worst nightmare was coming true. One of the body guards went out the front door first, stopping dead in his tracks as he saw the three cop cars parked behind the limousine. The door slammed behind him, leaving him out there alone and he pulled his gun, ready to run. “Drop your weapon!” a disembodied voice said over a megaphone. The man’s eyes roamed wildly over all the figures of the police, their guns out and pointed at him. With a sigh, he did as he was told, lying face down on the ground while two guys in SWAT gear ran up and cuffed him, yanking him to his feet. **** Hunter paced back and forth, just down the street from where his house was. Brandon was with him, and they were drawing up a crude blue print of his house. “God dammit, we’ve got to do something.” “We are, Hunt.” “You’re awfully fucking calm,” Hunt growled. “That’s my wife, my sister, and my brother in that house, not to mention my wife’s in labor.” He turned, his hand clenched into a fist. He needed something he could fight, something he could do. This waiting would kill him. 184
Heaven In Her Eyes “Which is all the more reason why we can’t go in, Hunter, you know that.” Brandon grabbed his friend’s shoulder. “I love Shanna, Hunt. You know how I’ve always felt about Angel, and even your brother, asshole that he is. They’ll be okay. Just calm down.” Rylie looked up at the two men before dropping her gaze once more to the sketch. The one story ranch building was set on a spacious landscaped lot. It was a family dwelling but Hunter had upgraded all the security on the place, not leaving too many ways to get in. If Shanna hadn’t opened the door and let her husband in, they could have easily kept him out. She felt a little spurt of panic in her gut and pushed it down, not allowing herself to think about the people inside the house. They were friends, well at least as friendly as she got with people not in law enforcement. She liked Shanna and Angel and didn’t even want to consider what her feelings were for Dillon. “I think we’re going to have to wait him out,” she said softly, drawing the eyes of the two men to her. “I also think we need to get the press down here. Senator Clinton isn’t going to like having his name smeared in the press. His shot at re-election is going to go right down the tubes if he doesn’t do some fast talking and let them go.” “Rylie, you’re a fucking genius,” Brandon said, grabbing his partner in a big hug. “The reporter, the one who got the pictures of me in the hospital… what’s his name?” “You mean Robert Dent? Mr. Salacious Gossip himself? Would you like me to give him a call?” Rylie lifted her cell phone, and called into the bureau office. “Hey, Katie, this is Rylie. We’ve got a situation here. Do you think you can get together the press, let them in on what’s happening here? Yeah, right on the first guess. Make sure you contact Rob Dent first. Let’s let him think he’s getting an exclusive. Thanks, Katie.” “What did she say?” “I swear she should become an agent and give up PR, the woman’s mind is amazing. She’s calling together the vultures for a press conference even as we speak.” “How are we going to make sure he sees it?” Hunter walked up behind Rylie, grabbing the sketch. “We could put up some loud speakers, make sure he at least hears it. But couldn’t this make him panic, do something to…do something stupid?” 185
Wendy Stone Brandon grabbed his cell phone, he dialed in Hunter’s number, hearing it ring on the other end. Finally, when he was beginning to think it would never be picked up, he heard a tiny voice say, “Hello?” “Shanna,” he said, closing his eyes and whispering a prayer of thanks. “Are you okay, baby?” “Y…yes.” The phone was taken out of her hands and a strange male voice came over the line. “Is this the cop that’s been banging my wife?” “Clinton,” Brandon said, having to work hard to keep the disgust out of his voice. “We need to talk.” “What could you possibly have to say I’d be interested in?” Brandon heard a loud moan in the background, heard Shanna’s voice, soft and soothing, saying something. “Well, we could discuss the fact that the press are starting to show up, Senator. I don’t know how long I’ll be able to keep your name off their radar. I really don’t think you want this kind of publicity.” There was silence on the other end of the line and Brandon could almost feel Clinton’s brain working. “Come on, Senator. Let them go. We can chalk this up to a misunderstanding. You can hop back in your limousine and leave the same way you came.” “With my wife,” Clinton said. “She’s not part of the deal.” The line went dead and Brandon closed his phone, cursing under his breath. “When is Katie going to do the press conference?” “She said she’d get them together but hold off until I called her back to give her specifics.” Rylie looked up at the house. “Did he tell you how they are?” “They’re fine…for now.” **** Shanna sat on the couch, her body angled towards Angel. “Please, Jackson, she’s going to have that baby soon. Can’t we let her go so she can get to the hospital? You’ve got me, I’m what you came here for.” “She means a lot to you, doesn’t she?” Clinton came up behind Shanna, his hand wrapped in the long length of her hair. He tugged and her head fell back. “What will you give me?” “W…what ever you want,” she said, fighting the revulsion she felt. 186
Heaven In Her Eyes “Too easy,” Clinton sighed, letting go of her hair. “What do I care about her or her brat?” He walked past Angel, shrugging his shoulders as if to say, sorry, nope. “Shanna,” Angel moaned, her body tight, the urge to push strong inside of her. “My water’s already broke, the baby’s coming.” “It’s too fast,” Shanna whispered. “You should still have plenty of time.” “Well, I don’t,” Angel groaned, panting against the urge. “You’re going to have to deliver the baby.” Clinton sat down in Hunter’s recliner. He stared at the pregnant woman in front of him. “Would you shut her up,” he said to the other body guard. “Boss, she’s having a baby.” “Like I can’t see that. Stick a gag on her or something.” “No!” Shanna stood, turning to face her husband. “If something happens to Angel or to her baby, my brothers will hunt you down like the dog you are.” “Fine,” Clinton said. “Just do what you have to.” Shanna felt as if she would pass out or throw up, as she had no idea how to deliver a baby. She took a deep breath. “What do I do?” “Untie my hands,” Angel said. “I can’t feel them anymore.” When that was done, Angel shimmied out of her soaked maternity jeans and underwear. She grabbed the throw on the back of the couch to drag over herself as she felt the eyes of the two men on her. She panted through the next pain, feeling as if she were being split in two by the huge cramp that twisted in her belly. “O…Okay,” she sighed, when it was over. “We need blankets and something to put under my hips to raise them up—newspapers or towels.” Shanna told the bodyguard where everything was, holding her sisterin-law’s hand. “It’ll be okay, Angel.” But she wasn’t sure if she was saying it to make herself feel better or to make Angel feel better. Angel panted through another contraction, her hand clamping down on Shanna’s. “I wish Hunter were here,” she whispered. “So do I, Angel,” Shanna said, making Angel laugh a bit at the heartfelt tone of her voice. Together they managed to lift her hips onto the edge of a pile of newspaper, with a clean blanket spread under her. Towels were laid on the coffee table and another blanket was ready to wrap the baby in. 187
Wendy Stone “I have to push,” Angel said suddenly. “I’m going to need you to look and tell me what you see.” Shanna nodded, looking a little green at the prospect. “Okay,” she whispered, taking a deep breath. Clinton got up and paced the room, going from window to window and looking outside. He heard Angel grunting behind him and felt disgusted. Why anyone would want to go through all of this for a screaming brat, he had no idea. Dillon groaned, his eyes opening slightly, the room spinning dizzily around him. He took some deep breaths through his nose, then realized he was tied and gagged, he looked around the room until he saw his sister. She was sitting between Angel’s legs. “I see a head,” Shanna said, excited. “It’s full of hair, Angel.” Angel leaned back, breathing deeply. Another pain started and she pushed against it, straining with all her might to bring her child into the world. A burning pain started between her legs and she knew the baby’s head was almost out. “I can see the face,” Shanna said, her hands touching her niece or nephew. “O…okay,” Angel groaned. “C…can you see the umbilical cord? Make s…sure it isn’t w…wrapped around the baby’s neck.” Shanna gently cradled the baby’s head in her hands, slowly working the bluish colored cord over it. The cord was thick and rubbery feeling, and very warm in her hand. “I…It’s done,” she said. “S…Shoulders next,” Angel gasped, the burning pain growing. She pushed hard, straining, her face turning beet red. “I see the shoulders, Angel. Whoa,” Shanna hurriedly reached lower, cradling the baby’s head in one hand while the body slid right out of Angel. She took a towel from the pile, wiping off the tiny face and body. Reaching into the baby’s mouth, she used her finger to clean out the gunk. A feeling of dread came over her and she looked up at her sister-inlaw. “She’s not breathing,” she said, holding the limp form in her hands.
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Chapter Seventeen Hunter paced back and forth in the small area they were using as a field headquarters. His mind was racing. All he could think about were the people in his house, the people he loved, his family. Angel. “Brandon,” he growled, turning to his friend. “We’ve got to do something.” “We are, Hunt.” Brandon grabbed his shoulders, knowing how he felt. Shanna was in there facing the monster from her past, the man she’d run from not so long ago. He could be hurting her, beating her. He forced himself to take a deep breath. “We’ve just got to stay calm, Hunt,” he said, forcing Hunter to meet his green gaze with his stormy gray one. “We’ll talk him out. He’s a United States Senator; he knows he can’t get away with this. Just give me some time.” “Angel’s in labor.” “First babies can take forever to come,” Rylie said. “Angel’s a doctor, she knows what she needs. Don’t worry, Hunter, Dillon is in there with them.” Even as she said it, she felt a strange ache inside of her. Dillon, his amber gaze, his hot hands and hard body and the soft way he had of sneaking up on her to take her by surprise. It felt as if someone had grabbed her insides and were twisting them into a knot. “Rylie is right, Hunt. Dillon would die before he’d let any harm come to either woman.” “I know, but it still doesn’t help when I’m out here and they’re in there.” He turned and left the room, unable to stay inside any longer. The familiar street looked so different. Instead of kids outside playing and the normal comings and goings of his neighbors, it was deserted. Cop cars and SWAT vehicles created a surrealistic landscape, parked on lawns and blocking off the street at the cross streets. He could see black 189
Wendy Stone clad men, rifles aimed at his house, hiding in bushes and trees, their gazes locked on their targets. There was even one man lying on his belly on his neighbor’s roof. A muffled shriek caught his attention, the sound cut off almost instantly. But he knew that voice, he knew it better than he knew his own. “Angel,” he whispered. His heart racing, he turned and sprinted down the street, circling the block quickly. He was going to find a way in. **** “I think Angel might last longer than Hunter,” Rylie said, watching his back as he turned away from them. “Yeah, you can say that again.” Brandon stared at the rough sketch of the house again even though he felt as if it were imprinted upon his brain. “Call Clinton,” he said. “Tell him the members of the press are getting antsy.” “Aren’t you worried he might try to take Shanna with him? Or try to hurt the others?” “The man is too proud of his standing as a public official, he won’t do anything to ruin him in the eye of the media.” He shook his head. “God, I hope I’m right. I just don’t know.” “It’s ringing,” Rylie said. “Senator Clinton? This is Special Agent Rylie Moore with the FBI. How are you all in there?” **** Shanna stared down at the lifeless body of her niece, her hands shaking. “She’s not breathing, Angel. What do I do?” Angel sat up, ignoring her pain, her hands out. “Give her to me. In the nursery, there’s a blue bulb on the changing table.” Shanna handed her the tiny baby, a sob coming from deep inside of her. She turned, starting out of the room only to hear an ominous click. “Take one more step, Shanna, my wife, and I will spatter your guts against that wall.” “Jackson,” Shanna turned slowly, eyeing the man she’d married with loathing. “Even you can’t be hateful enough to allow a baby to die.” He glanced over to where Angel was working on her tiny daughter, breathing into her lungs with small puffs of air. “Fine, but you have 190
Heaven In Her Eyes thirty seconds to get it and get back, or I will shoot your darling sister-inlaw.” Shanna didn’t hesitate, running down the hall that led to the bedrooms and turned into the nursery. She spotted the small blue bulb and grabbed it, then holding it against her chest she started to turn around. “Shanna?” The sound of her name made her jump and she saw Aaron standing outside the window of the nursery, his back against the trunk of the dogwood tree that grew so close. She had no time for indecision and hurried over to the window, lifting it and then pushing on the screen quickly. “I have to get back,” she whispered furiously. Aaron watched her leave, his face determined as he lowered the screen and leant it against the side of the house. He boosted himself easily through the window, carefully dropping his feet into the room. Quietly he made his way to the door that led into the hall, and listened for any sounds that would tell him what was going on. “Everything is just wonderful, Agent Moore,” he heard Clinton say. “My wife is fixing tea for her brother’s wife and then we’ll be leaving. I don’t know what the fuss is all about. It’s just a simple visit and then we must catch our flight back to D.C.” Hunter shook his head, amazed by the delusional aspect of the man. He was a stark raving fruit cake. As he stood there, he listened for any sound of his wife or his brother, desperate to know if they were all right. His head came up, his heart leaped into his throat as he heard the unmistakable sound of a baby’s cry. **** Angel cuddled her newborn daughter, now wrapped securely in a fresh towel, her face was no longer the blue it had been when she was born but pink and warm. Her finger stroked the tiny cheek. “Thank you, God,” she whispered. Shanna knelt beside her, tears streaming from her amber eyes as she gazed on the beautiful sight of mother and child. “Yes, thank you, God.” She leaned forward as if she were going to kiss the baby’s cheek, instead whispering barely loud enough for Angel to hear. “Aaron is in the nursery.” 191
Wendy Stone Angel looked up, glancing back toward the hallway before getting a hold of herself. She couldn’t let anyone know he was there. He could get killed. Hunter kept his eyes on what he could see of the living room from his angle of vision. It wasn’t much. He could see the end of the couch, a pair of male bare feet that had to belong to Dillon and just a hint of Shanna’s hair. “Come on, Shan, honey, sit up and let me know where everyone in the room is.” As if she’d heard him, Shanna rose up on her knees, glancing towards him. She looked straight at him and he quickly mouthed the words, “Where are they?” She glanced over her shoulder towards the windows that looked out over the front yard and then back at him. He nodded and sent her a thumb’s up sign. Then he quickly slipped across the hall, heading into his and Angel’s bedroom where he kept his pistol. It was in a locked box on top of the closet shelf and he hurried across the room, carefully opening the closet doors. Reaching up, he grabbed the box, lifting it up so that it wouldn’t slide and make noise against the wood. The key was on his key ring and he reached into his front pocket, holding onto all the keys tightly to keep them from jingling. Opening the box, he pulled out the pistol, loaded the clip and ratcheted a bullet into the chamber. **** “Come on, Senator. You and I both know this is not a friendly visit between loving family members. Shanna is divorcing you.” “You are wrong, Agent Moore. My wife has had a change of heart.” Jackson’s voice turned belligerent. “She just needed a gentle reminder about how much she loves me.” Rylie snorted, though she covered the mouthpiece of the phone so he didn’t hear her. “Perhaps you’ll put her on the phone then, Senator, so I could ask her myself?” “Oh, no, I couldn’t do that. She’s much too busy right now. New babies take so much work.” “Babies?” Rylie caught Brandon’s eye. “Angel Hunter gave birth, Senator? Is that what you’re telling me?” 192
Heaven In Her Eyes A strong wail sounded in her ear as if Clinton had put the phone up to the baby’s mouth. “Oh my God,” Rylie whispered. “Angel’s had the baby.” “Come here, my dear,” Rylie heard him say over the phone. “Come and tell Agent Moore, you and I are planning on returning to our home together in Washington D.C.” She heard a startled cry, as if Shanna had been dragged up by a harsh hand. “Rylie?” Shanna’s voice came over the phone. “Shanna, are you okay?” “Yes, we are all okay. Angel had the baby.” “I know, I heard.” “Tell her,” Clinton yelled in the background. “The last thing in the world I want to do is go with him, Rylie,” Shanna said bravely. Rylie heard the phone drop and Shanna’s strangled cry. “Senator!” she almost shouted in the phone. “Senator, pick up the phone!” she shouted as she heard Shanna cry out again. The phone was picked up and Rylie heard a thunk as if it had been knocked against something or someone. “Now tell her,” Clinton yelled again. “R…Rylie…” “Just say it, Shanna. Don’t rile him. It’s okay, we all know you don’t want to go with him. “O…okay.” She took a deep breath. “I want to go back to Washington D.C. with my husband.” She said it all fast and with no inflection in her voice. Rylie heard her cry out again but then the phone was picked up by Clinton. “Are you satisfied, Agent Moore?” he asked, his tone condescending in the extreme. “Not in the least, sir.” “It will have to do, now if you’d please call off your dogs, I’d like to have access to the car my wife came here in and the limousine. My wife needs her purse.” “I’ll get back to you on that, Senator.” Brandon was standing next to Rylie, his hand fisted, the diagram drawn by Hunter crinkled beyond repair in his white knuckled fingers. “He hit her.” “Brandon…” 193
Wendy Stone “He fucking dies, Rylie.” “God, Brandon, don’t make me pull you from this case. Get a fucking grip, now! You’re not going to do either of you any good if you lose it.” Rylie grabbed Brandon, feeling the tension in his arms. “Why don’t you go out, get some fresh air, talk to Hunter while I let SWAT know we now have a baby involved and call for an ambulance.” “Fine, but he’s going down, Rylie. One way or another, the man is going down.” Brandon slammed out of the room, his eyes searching for his friend. He was back in a few short minutes. “Rylie, we have a problem.” **** Shanna knelt back at Angel’s side, her body between her husband, Angel and the baby. Her face was beginning to swell from the harsh slaps he’d given her, but it was so much less than what she was used to from him that she ignored it. “Are you okay?” Angel asked, cuddling the baby with one arm and touching Shanna’s face with the other. “Yes,” Shanna breathed. “It’s nothing.” “He deserves to be taken out and shot like a rabid dog,” Angel said softly but with such hostility it almost made Shanna smile. “He keeps talking about ‘it’ as if I should know what ‘it’ is.” “You don’t have any idea?” Angel asked. “I thought it was kind of weird that he wants you to have your purse. Could there be something in it he wants?” “I don’t know. I had to pretty much start over when I left him. I only brought a couple of things back with me. But what he would want with any of it, I don’t know.” “Shut up, you two!” Jackson ordered. “I need to check her bleeding, Jackson. She needs to go to the hospital.” She stood and turned then moved slowly toward him. “You have me, Jackson. You don’t need an injured woman and a newborn baby.” “Have you looked outside, you dumb bitch?” He grabbed her by her long hair, and dragged her over to the window. He pushed her against it so hard her head hurt. “Look? See all the cops? That damn cop you’re fucking is out there.” 194
Heaven In Her Eyes “Let her go!” Hunter growled, moving from the hallway, the pistol in his hand pointed at Jackson. “Let her go or I’ll blow your fucking head off.” Jackson dropped his arm and Shanna scurried back over to the couch, digging under it for the pistol she’d spotted there earlier. She pulled it out, desperately trying to remember what Brandon had taught her. Hearing a noise behind him Hunter spun, his gun coming up and drawing a steady bead on the other body guard. “Drop it,” he yelled. “Is he worth it?” he asked when the man hesitated to use his own pistol. “Think about this. If someone dies in here today, you’ll go up for murder one. Are you willing to do that for a piece of shit like Clinton?” The guard looked over at Clinton, remembering what he’d done to his buddy. He’d shoved him out the door when he saw the cops in the driveway. The man really was a shit. He’d also seen what he’d done to the young girl on the plane. How he’d forced himself inside of her despite her whimpers of pain and the tears that had fallen from her eyes. He’d watched as Clinton had unbuttoned her blouse, exposing those soft, perky boobs to everyone on the plane. Then forced her to fuck him, in front of everyone there. “No, I’m not,” he said suddenly, letting the pistol hang from the trigger guard and handing it to Hunter. Then he turned and went back to the chair he’d been sitting in, looking anywhere in the room but at Clinton. “You’re on your own, Clinton. It’s time to pay for the things you’ve done.” Hunter turned slowly and felt a ripple of shock flood him as he stared down the barrel of a gun held by Clinton. The barrel seemed huge, a black gaping hole big enough to climb into. “I don’t think so,” Jackson said softly. “I think your wife is about to become a mother and a widow on the same day.” He smiled, his blue eyes glaring with evil intensity at his brother-in-law. “Ready to meet your maker?” A shot exploded in the quiet of the room, startling the baby and making her scream. Hunter stared into Clinton’s eyes, seeing the shock and pain slowly come into them Jackson turned, and stared at the smoking pistol clenched in Shanna’s shaking hands. “S…Shanna?” he groaned, and reached out to her. His pistol dropped from his suddenly weak hand, to hit the ground with the heavy clump of metal. “Y…you shot me? Bitch…” he hissed, as his legs gave out and he hit the floor hard, as his eyes glazed over. 195
Wendy Stone Shanna felt frozen, as if an arctic wind had taken all the warmth from her body. Her teeth clenched, then chattered loudly in the aftermath. The front door burst open, and she turned, the gun pointed out in front of her. Hunter hurried to her, carefully cupping his hands around her shaking ones. “It’s okay now, Shanna. Let me have the gun.” She let go of it as if it were some kind of poisonous snake, her eyes going from Hunter to the SWAT team that had busted down the front door when they’d heard the gunshot. Brandon followed them in, his own pistol drawn, his eyes going instantly to her. Calls of “Clear!” came from throughout the house. Brandon holstered his weapon and held his arms out as he came closer to her. Shanna hurried to him, and burrowed into his arms, hiding her face in his shoulder. Hunter turned to Angel, his eyes taking in the paleness of her features against the vivid red of her hair. She smiled tremulously at him, holding out her hand to him. He dropped to his knees next to her, pressing a fevered kiss to her forehead. “Are you okay?” She nodded. “Would you like to meet your daughter?” “Daughter?” His eyes dropped to the tiny bundle she held so protectively against her breasts. With fingers that trembled, he stroked his hand over her soft, downy cheek, tracing the soft curls that graced her tiny head. “She has your hair,” he whispered, awe in his voice as he looked at his own little miracle. “And your temper,” Angel said, then laughed. “Good. She’ll need it,” he sighed, leaning forward to kiss her as the ambulance attendants came in. They checked for a pulse on Clinton. “DOA,” one said to the other, marking it down on his clipboard. “We need to call the coroner.” Rylie walked over to Dillon who was being untied by one of the SWAT guys. “Feeling abused?” she asked him. She lifted her hand to trace the bump above his ear. “A little. Wanna kiss it and make it all better?” “Later,” she said softly, a promise in her tone that had him smiling despite the headache that was making even his teeth hurt. “What happened in here?” Hunter lifted his head, staring at Bran. “I shot and killed Senator Clinton.” 196
Heaven In Her Eyes Shanna was shaking her head even as the last word came out of his mouth. “No, Aaron,” she gasped. “You can’t take the blame for me.” “You killed him?” Brandon asked, surprise coloring his voice. “He was going to shoot my brother. I had no choice,” she said unsteadily. “We’re going to need to make a report, take statements,” Rylie said. “You’ll have to get ours at the hospital,” Hunter said, holding his daughter carefully in his arms as they loaded his wife onto the gurney. “I can do that,” Rylie said, coming over to peek at the newborn. “She’s beautiful,” she said softly, studying the small heart shaped face and the thick dark lashes that brushed against rosy cheeks. “She looks like Angel, you lucky little girl, you.” Brandon chuckled, not relinquishing his hold on Shanna. His heart was just beginning to settle from hearing that gunshot and wondering if he would find Shanna dead. “You and I have to talk,” he whispered. “As soon as you give your statement, will you come back to my place with me?” She nodded, looking anywhere but at the dead body of her husband. Every time she caught a glimpse of him, she waited for him to sit up, to laugh at her and hit her, abuse her more. “Can we get out of here? Please?” “I’m going to take Shanna to the station, Rye,” Brandon called, turning her away from the gruesome scene. “I need my purse,” she said suddenly. “He wanted something from me. He kept saying I had it and he wanted it. It has to be in my purse somewhere.” “You have no idea what it is?” “No—I mean, I didn’t bring a whole lot with me.” She stared up at Brandon, her eyes wide, the shock of the shooting still so fresh. “It’s okay, love, I’ll be with you every step of the way,” he whispered. “Let’s start by getting out of here.” **** Sitting in Interview Room A, she dumped out the contents of her purse. She was trying to sort through and figure out what she’d had with her when she’d left Jackson and what had been bought new when she’d left Sebastian’s mansion. Sorting it took only a few moments, and beside 197
Wendy Stone her mother’s compact, were a few photographs in a small album and a tiny beaded change purse, everything else was new. “What could he have wanted in this?” she asked Brandon, picking up the album and flipping through it. Some of the pictures were new, some old. She had even left a few in there of the time when she’d been under Clinton’s thumb. Pictures of his estate in Virginia where she’d recuperated, fighting her way back from the edge of a nervous breakdown. “Did I take an incriminating picture?” Brandon reached out and picked up her mother’s compact. “Was this piece always like this?” he asked, showing her a small line on the bottom, a tiny crack in the case. “It wasn’t there when I used it last, at Maggie’s. Oh God, that was only yesterday. It must have happened when I hit Rylie with my purse.” “You hit Rylie with your purse? Where was I?” Brandon asked, chuckling softly. “You were inside shooting it out with two bad guys.” Her finger traced the small crack, not paying much attention to it until it suddenly seemed to move, and the bottom swung open. A small, rectangular case dropped out onto the table, surprising her. “This wasn’t here before,” she said, her forehead furrowed as she picked up the small case, studying it. “What is this thing?” “I do believe it’s a flash disk for a computer system.” Brandon pulled a handkerchief from out of his pocket and took the small case from her. “This has to be what Clinton was after,” he mused. “What’s it for? How did it get into my compact?” “It’s for high volume storage of information,” he said. “But as to how it got in your mom’s compact, I can only speculate. You did say he broke it on you, didn’t you?” “So you think he put that thing in there when he got my compact fixed? That was years ago, Brandon.” Shanna picked up the compact, staring at the small compartment she’d accidentally opened. With her thumb, she pushed the other piece back in place, amazed at how well it was concealed by the design on the case. “No, he had to have put this in here in the last couple of years. I need to get this to our computer guys. We have to find out what’s on it.” He looked at Detective Anderson. “Are you through with her?” “As far as the shooting, yeah. I doubt any charges will be pressed against Ms. Clinton. It’s pretty clear cut. We just gotta dot the i’s and cross the t’s. The Senator was a pretty big deal, you know.” 198
Heaven In Her Eyes Shanna dumped everything in her purse, including her compact. She refused to let Jackson ruin the memory of the mother she’d always felt when she saw it. He’d destroyed her innocence, killed her youth and almost demolished her ability to love. “He won’t hurt you ever again, Shanna,” Brandon said, kneeling beside her and seeing the look in her soft amber eyes. “He’s gone and you’re safe.” She closed her eyes, nodding slowly. “It’s so hard to believe that I’m free,” she whispered, reaching for the hand that he’d dropped to her knee. “I’ve been afraid of him for so long, Brandon.” He pulled her into his arms, hearing her soft sigh as she snuggled into him. “How about we stop at the hospital and see your niece?” **** She was adorable, sound asleep in her tiny bassinette, her small lips pursed into a delicate pink rosebud. Shanna sighed, touching the glass that separated her from her niece with a gentle hand. “Did you see what they named her?” Brandon asked, pointing to the small card on the front of the bassinette. “Hope Shanna Hunter, has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?” Shanna smiled. “Hope Hunter is very pretty and it fits her. She’s beautiful, isn’t she?” “Gorgeous, just like her momma,” Hunt said, coming up behind the couple staring at his daughter. “Congratulations, Daddy,” Shanna said, throwing her arms around her brother. “You are a lucky man.” “Thanks to you,” he said, squeezing her tight. “Angel told me what happened and how you stayed between her and Clinton the entire time. You’re my hero, little sister. I owe you everything.” “Promise I can babysit and you don’t owe me a thing,” she said. “Free babysitting, little brother,” Dillon said, coming up behind them, Rylie next to him. “I wouldn’t turn that down if I were you.” He wrapped Shanna in his arms when Aaron let go of her. “You are a hero, Shan. I’ve never seen anyone as brave as you were.” Shanna blushed at his words, and squeezed him tight. Her hand brushed across the bandage wrapped around his head. It looked very white against his tanned skin and dark hair. “How are you?” 199
Wendy Stone “Ornery,” Rylie answered before Dillon could open his mouth. “He took a huge bite out of the doctor who told him he needed to rest and should have spent a night in observation here.” “I’m fine,” he said, the words sounding like he was getting tired of repeating them. “Besides, we came up here to see the new Hunter princess and her momma, not to fret over me.” “Is Angel okay?” Shanna asked. “Oh yeah, stitched her up and put her in bed. She just doesn’t want to stay put.” Dillon stepped up to Brandon, his hand out. “I owe you an apology,” he said softly, feeling Rylie’s eyes on him. “I judged you wrong.” Brandon smiled. “Yeah, you did. I’ll just chalk it up to Hunter stubbornness and we’ll let it go.” “I do have to ask what your intentions are towards my sister,” he said, hearing Aaron snort behind him and Shanna’s gasp of disbelief. Shanna walked up beside him before Brandon could answer. “Don’t make me get my gun, Dillon,” she warned, feeling Brandon’s arm coming up around her, hugging her close. Dillon laughed, dropping a kiss on her forehead. “Point taken little sister. I’ll behave.” “In my dreams,” Rylie mumbled, though he heard her and narrowed his eyes toward her. “I thought we were up here to see Angel?” They went in and visited the new mommy, who sat up in bed, her red hair gleaming with silky fire, her green eyes bright and happy. “She is so beautiful,” Shanna said, bending over to press a kiss to her sister-in-law’s cheek. “She is, isn’t she,” Angel said proudly. “So says the unbiased mother,” Rylie said, giving Angel a hug. Angel just laughed, lifting her cheek for Dillon and Brandon to kiss. “So what was in the purse?” Brandon looked at Shanna with a puzzled frown. “She was there,” Shanna said, shrugging. “It was some kind of computer doodad. Brandon is going to take it to the FBI crime lab.” “Computer doodad?” Dillon asked, staring over Shanna’s dark head and meeting Brandon’s eyes. “A flash drive. I’m sending it to the crime lab, in case he has it encrypted or password locked. They’ll have more of a chance of getting into it than we will. We’ll just have to wait a while for the results.” 200
Heaven In Her Eyes There was a quick knock on the door and a nurse came in pushing the small clear bassinette in front of her. “We have a little princess here who thinks she needs her momma,” the nurse said, reaching in the bassinette and pulling out the fussing infant. Brandon grabbed Shanna’s arm, noting the wistful look in her eyes. “Want one of those?” he whispered. She glanced into his eyes, seeing a fire in the beautiful jade green irises. “Eventually,” she whispered back. “Why, did you want to help me practice making one?” Brandon’s eyes narrowed and she heard the small groan, cut off as quickly as it sounded. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Hunter, but your guests will have to leave,” the nurse said. “Hospital policy for when the babies are in the room with mom.” They made their good-byes, the two couples parting ways in the hospital parking lot. **** Shanna leaned against the shower wall, the heavy pulse of the water beating down on her shoulders, attempting to let the heat soothe her fractured nerves. She closed her eyes breathing deeply. In her mind, she played the scene out again, watching Jackson with the gun pointed at her brother, his finger tightening on the trigger. She heard Angel’s gasp of disbelief and horror as she brought Dillon’s pistol up, aiming it at Jackson. His last words reverberated through her head, the evil he inflected in them sounding even more malicious as they echoed in her mind. “Ready to meet your maker?” It was almost slow motion, her finger tightening on the trigger, squeezing, not yanking. The roar of the pistol, the almost unbelievable kick of it as it rocked her hands up, the terrible echo of the explosion and then the bloom of red as the bullet struck Jackson. It was all in her mind, happening over and over. She clasped her hands over her mouth, barely managing to open the shower door and reach the toilet before she lost the contents of her stomach, heaving even after it was empty, tears streaming down her face. 201
Wendy Stone “Shanna?” Brandon’s voice was at the partially open bathroom door. He peeked inside, and saw her huddled, shivering in a puddle of water in front of the toilet. Her skin was pale and he could see the path of the tears that fell from her eyes. “Shanna, love,” he murmured, hurrying over. He grabbed one of the big towels off the counter to wrap around her shivering body. “I…I killed him,” she gasped, closing the lid on the toilet and sinking to the floor. “I killed him, Brandon,” she repeated. “You had no choice, baby,” he whispered, pulling her against him and rocking her gently. “I…I could have aimed somewhere else. I could have yelled at him or…or thrown the gun at him…or something.” Her shoulders shook as she sobbed, burying her face in his shirt. Brandon stretched out his legs, pulling her up so she sat on his lap, his arms wrapped around her, cradling her as she cried it all out. He stroked his hands over her wet hair, ignoring the heat of the room as the shower continued to run, filling the room with steam. He held her until her tears calmed, finally lifting her damp face with the tip of his finger, staring down into her eyes. “I was wondering when it would hit you,” he murmured, pushing the hair out of her face. “What…? What do you mean?” she sniffed, taking the washcloth he handed her and using it to wipe her eyes. “Baby, it isn’t easy dealing with what happened today. It shouldn’t be easy.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead, sighing heavily. “Shooting anyone, even scum like Jackson Clinton, should be difficult to stomach. But baby, God’s truth, you had no other choice.” “I…I could have…” she stopped, staring up and into the jade of his eyes. “He’d have killed Aaron and probably Angel, the baby and Dillon, too, wouldn’t he?” She sniffed, closed her eyes, and leant against him. “I feel bad, but worse, I feel guilty for not feeling worse that he’s gone.” Brandon’s arms tightened around her, his eyes closing as he savored the feel of her in his arms. He was still feeling the fright of hearing that gunshot, of not knowing for those terrifying moments what was happening inside the house. When he saw her standing next to her brother, the relief had almost sent him to his knees. “Have you thought any more about moving in with me?” he asked suddenly, the words blurting from his mouth. She nodded, not lifting her head from his shoulder, her nose buried in his neck. 202
Heaven In Her Eyes “Well?” he asked, tipping his head back to see her eyes. “Do you really want me to move in with you?” she asked, suddenly pushing from him, standing up and wobbling a little before she caught her balance. She went to the shower, reached in and turned off the water. Brandon glanced down at the front of his clothes, soaked from the water that had run off her body. He pulled his tee shirt off, throwing it at the small hamper in the corner. “No,” he said finally, turning and taking her hands in his as she stared at him with her mouth open. “No? Then why did you ask me?” she asked him, her voice betraying the hurt she felt. “Because I didn’t know my own mind then. Now I do.” He took a deep breath, dropping to one knee on the cold tile of the bathroom floor. “Shanna Hunter,” he said, his voice slightly unsteady. “I love you. I think I did from the first moment you stared at me with those sad eyes. I…I want you to marry me,” he blurted, hating the way it came out. Her brows scrunched together as she looked down at him. “M…Marry me?” she repeated. “Yeah,” he nodded, getting up and pulling her against him again. “Make an honest man of me, Shanna. Marry me, please?” His hand traced over her brow, gently erasing the furrows between her eyes, sliding down over her cheek, lightly brushing over her lower lip. “Marry me and give me babies. I want to come home to you every night, make love to you and sleep with you in my arms. I want to fight with you, play with you and work with you. I want to make you happy for the rest of your life. Yes?” he urged. Shanna’s heart filled with joy, her eyes filled with tears, but these were the happy kind. “Are you sure?” she asked. “It’s so fast.” “That’s how I know it’s right. I don’t want to live another day without you at my side.” His eyes refused to let her glance away, demanding an answer as he smiled down at her. Shanna smiled, slowly at first but it grew until her eyes seemed to dance. “Yes,” she said, nodding her head as he bent his to find her lips. He picked her up, swinging her around as she giggled under his mouth. “Let me down,” she laughed. “Nope, can’t. You might change your mind.” “I won’t if you won’t,” she promised. “Oh, I won’t, baby,” he growled. 203
Wendy Stone “Good, then let me down so I can brush my teeth.” She started laughing. “I can’t believe you asked me to marry you in the bathroom.” “It’ll be one to tell the grandkids,” Brandon said, laughing along with her. He set her carefully on her feet. “Get out of here, I’ll be out in a little bit,” she urged, giving him a gentle push toward the door. She hurriedly brushed her teeth, and then ran a brush through the long length of her hair. Leaving the bathroom dressed only in the towel, she went into the bedroom and stopped, when she saw him. He was stretched out on the bed, candles lit, and a bottle of wine in a small silver bucket on the nightstand. “I thought we should celebrate,” he said, sitting up and holding out a glass of the dark ruby colored wine. Shanna took the glass, climbing on the bed to sit next to him. “To us,” he said, raising a glass. “And to a long and happy life together.” Shanna smiled, clinking her glass lightly against his before taking a sip of the fruity wine. She laughed when he took her glass from her after she’d only gotten a sip, setting them down on the stand before turning back to her, his hands reaching for the tuck in the towel. “Why, Mr. Austin, I might end up thinking you’re trying to seduce me.” “If you’re only thinking it, than I’m doing something wrong,” he growled, pulling her into his arms. The towel fell onto the bed and he groaned, as her breasts pressed against his bare chest, her nipples hardening in the cool air. Sliding his hands over her slender form, he held her against him. He relished the feel of her satiny skin, the sweet scent of her hair and the soft womanly curves that pressed so intimately against him. “I want you,” he moaned against her lips, rolling so she lay under him. “Mmm,” she hummed, parting her lips and greeting his tongue with the caress of her own, feeling her body come alive in his arms. Her breasts felt swollen, her legs lax as he came to lay between them, his stomach pressing gently against the soft dark curls of her sex. She wrapped her arms around him, holding him to her, her legs coming up to wrap around his waist. Her fingers explored his lean back, feeling the hard muscle and steely strength of his body held in check for her. But she didn’t want gentle and tender, she wanted wildness, she wanted to know his passion. Curling 204
Heaven In Her Eyes her fingers into claws, she ran them up his spine, hearing the hiss of his breath as she trailed them back down and across the hard curves of his ass. “Feeling wicked are we?” he asked, his voice a husky rasp of need. He could feel the satiny softness of her thighs above the denim of his jeans, the pebbled hardness of her nipples burrowing into his chest. Her fingers pressed into him, running over his neck to dig into the thick hair at his nape. He lowered his lips to her jaw line, running his mouth down to her throat. Her skin tasted of her, womanly with a hint of soap and a spicy tang that was addictive. He slid down her body, hearing the soft sound of her sighs, the sweet tones of her pleasure in the tiny whimpers she gave when he found an especially sensitive place to nibble or lick. He took a taut, pink tip into his mouth, as his hand gently squeezed the firm flesh surrounding it. She arched her back, lost in the sensations of pleasure he gave so unstintingly. He suckled, his tongue lashing at the pale tip while his talented fingers teased the other, dragging sounds of joy from her lips. His tongue lapped at the taut bud, trailed lower to follow the curve of her breast, finding the firm ladder of her ribs. His hands slid down before him, following the sweet inward curve of her waist until it flared out into lush hips made to cradle a man. Made to cradle him. Kissing her hip-bone, he smoothed his fingers over the crinkly curls of her sex, loving the contrast of dark hair against pale flesh. Shanna was stretched taut upon a rack of desire, her body begging for more of his touch, his kiss. She wanted him more with every breath she drew until the emptiness between her thighs was a throbbing ache, desperate to be filled. “Brandon,” she hissed. “Please…” She tried to draw him back up her body, but he resisted her hands, taking them in his own and putting them on the curve of her breasts. “Touch yourself, baby. Play with your nipples for me.” He watched her, as he pushed down his jeans and shorts until he was as naked as she. She could feel the blush suffuse her cheeks but she wouldn’t let shyness stop her, not now. Not while she was with Brandon. She wanted to give him everything she was. Her fingers trailed lightly across her nipples, stopping to pull and twist, her eyes opening to watch him as he watched her. “Yeah, that’s it. God, that’s sexy,” he groaned, sliding further between her thighs, his fingers pulling apart the swollen lips of her sex, seeing the glint of her moisture in the hungry pink of her flesh. He ran a 205
Wendy Stone single finger through the moisture, from the top of her petal pink slit to the small rosebud of her anus, feeling her jerk as he brushed over her clit. Shanna groaned as he took a long taste of her, his tongue teasing her to new heights of pleasure. He spread her lower lips wide, plying his tongue with ever quicker strokes across the hard pearl of her clit, tasting her, tempting her to move against him even as she pulled on her nipples, stretching them. She was wet and hot, the taste of her sweet and musky. He captured her clit in his teeth, nibbling at the bundle of nerves with tender little bites before sucking it into his mouth. The flat of his tongue lapped at it causing her to arch against the bed, wanting more. “I…I’m going to come,” she panted, barely able to catch her breath, her body writhing under the sweet torture of his lips and tongue. Brandon moaned, the vibrations washing over her clit and into the flesh of her pussy, coiling tighter. She cried out when she came, his name on her lips, her hands buried in the thick hair of his head, holding her to him as if he’d try to get away. Before it was over, he rose above her, slipping inside of her easily, the tight walls of her sheath parting under the pressure of his cock. “Ahh,” he groaned. “You feel so good, Shanna.” He rocked against her, feeling the last essence of her orgasm spread through her, her body wrapped around his as she held him in her sweet arms. He was looking into her face when her eyes opened, moist with unshed tears. “Are you okay, baby?” he asked, worried he’d hurt her somehow. “I’m more than okay,” she sighed, running her fingers over his skin, her thighs caressing his waist, her feet rubbing gently over his legs. “This is heaven.” He smoothed the hair from her face, his eyes glowing with the love he felt for her. His lips parted over hers, as he kissed her with the sweetness of the love she inspired inside of him. When he lifted his head, her eyes were closed and he ran one finger over the soft curve of her lashes. “Shanna,” he breathed, waiting for her to look at him. “My heaven is right here. It’s in your eyes.”
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About The Author Wendy Stone only recently began her writing career. A small town girl with a Master’s degree from the School of Hard Knocks, Wendy started writing as a way to combat boredom and keep from gaining dress sizes, after an accident to her back kept her from working. No one was more surprised than she was when people actually enjoyed what she wrote. Writing as Daniellekitten, Wendy has won many awards for her writing, including Most Influential Writer in 2005 through Literotica.com as well as Most Literary―Genre Transcending, She has also been nominated for many of the Reader’s Choice awards as well as Monthly awards at the same website. Wendy Stone resides in a small Michigan town, spending most of her time writing as well as enjoying time spent with her animals and the company of family.
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Coming soon from Eternal Press
Key To Her Heart Book Three of the Romsus Trilogy by Wendy Stone Riley Moore is an FBI agent working her way to the top in a world where risking her life is just part of the job. She certainly never thought that getting shot would change her career, that is, until she found out about the little bundle she is carrying. Now, she doesn’t worry about terror suspects and secret plots as much as how to tell daddy, Agent Dillon Hunter, the big news! Can they keep of a life of fighting high crime, and still save their relationship? Can Dillon find the Key to Riley’s Heart?
"God, Dillon!" she cried. "What are you doing to me?" "Loving you, Ryley." His mouth found the curve of her stomach, licking over the taut muscle, his hands grasping the band of her jeans and tugging them down, baring her needy sex to his eyes and mouth. Ryley managed to kick off her shoes before he yanked her jeans and panties down her long legs. Half naked, writhing on the desk, Dillon couldn't seem to take his eyes off of her, almost as if he was waiting for her to disappear. With a growl, he lifted her, wrapping his arm around her waist and carrying her over to the small couch he had against one wall. He dropped down on the couch, her legs coming down to straddle 208
Heaven In Her Eyes his lap. His hand was on her leg, his fingers stroking up her slender thigh, his thumb brushing against the soft curls that covered her sex. "You are so exquisite," he growled, sliding his hand to her stomach, his thumb parting the slickness of her lower lips, slipping inside hot wetness and finding the hard button of her clit. "Fuck, Ryley," he groaned as he felt how ready she was for him, how much she wanted him. "I need you." Her hand was at his waist, trying to unbuckle his slacks with one hand. She fumbled, cursing under her breath, finally whimpering his name, staring into his eyes. "Please," she begged. "I want to feel you inside of me."
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Coming soon from Eternal Press
A Gift of Love by Wendy Stone Danielle never imagined her step-mother could be so heartless as to sell her in marriage to a man she’d never meet. When they finally meet, she cannot see anything beyond the mask of indifference her new husband, Christopher, seems to wear. Christopher will pay any price to win Danielle as his own, even if it means respecting her request for separate bedrooms. Can her ever show her his true feelings and gentle nature to win her over, or will she always see him as a beast?
"My Lord," she whispered, soft and breathless with nervous anticipation of his reaction. "I... I need to ask something of you." Christopher set down his fork, wiped his mouth with his napkin, and gave her his full attention. "Whatever I can do, Danielle, you have but to ask," he said simply and with a gentle smile. Danielle could hear David's insidious voice in her ear, his words of “previous wives” and the horror of her husband's perversions were making her even more nervous. And confused. His actions with her, his manner, had been kind and gentle, not that of a horrible beast who planned abominable things that she couldn't even imagine. "What is it, my Lady?" "I... I don't want to share your bed!" the words blurted from her mouth quickly and without thought. As soon as they were spoken, she wished she could call them back. She saw the look in his eyes grow bitter 210
Heaven In Her Eyes and he stared down at his gloved hand with animosity. Did he think his scars were... "No, Christopher. Oh, God, no, it's not that." She flew from her chair around the small table until she was kneeling by his legs looking up at him. "I just mean, we have only just met and don't know how we will deal with each other yet. A few days, time for both of us to grow accustom to one other." Her hand reached out and touched his face, her fingers gentle on his unscarred cheek. "Can you not give me this, husband?"
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Available now from Eternal Press
Captive Angel Book One of the Romsus Trilogy by Wendy Stone A young doctor kidnapped from her hospital parking lot finds herself in hot water when she is forced to use her doctoring skills to heal a gorgeous specimen of a male. Can this angel of mercy find a way out for the two of them?
With a suddenness that startled a shriek out of her, he turned, pressing her against the wall, his hand grabbing her other wrist and holding them pinned beside her shoulders. His body leaned against hers, his lips holding her mouth captive while he feasted on her flavor. She tasted of coffee and mint, and dark passion that enticed him to explore further, his tongue rubbing against her own with an intimacy that had her heart pounding and her head swimming. Her breath came in harsh pants against his skin, her hands fighting his grip, wanting to touch him, to stroke all that male flesh that had been driving her mad this past week. But he wouldn’t release her hands, instead, rubbing against her, spreading her jean clad thighs with his leg until he could push against her sex with his knee. He found the seam of her jeans, using it to stimulate her until she moaned under his lips. 212
Heaven In Her Eyes He tore his mouth from hers, staring down into her half open, sleepy green eyes. “I want you,” he growled, pressing his groin against her to emphasize the statement. “Yes,” she managed to whisper before his lips were on hers again, but this time, he released her wrists, his hands going to her waist, holding her against him, pulling at the long sleeved T-shirt that she had tucked into her jeans. He pulled it out slowly, seeming to tease her with his movements, causing her stomach to flutter in delight.
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