Allison Brennan - Killing Fear

“I’ve missed you, Robin.” He kissed the inside of her right thigh, then licked all the way to her lush, round breasts, red from his earlier assault. She held his head to them and he took each into his mouth in turn. Her hands found his erect cock and he groaned as she squeezed.

“Now,” she said. “I’m serious.”

Without giving him time to position himself, she rolled him again. He loved how physical Robin was, how hard she pushed him, how hard she pushed herself. She straddled him and in one thrust slid onto him, hot and wet and ready.

She gasped, and he felt her tightness.

“Robin,” he began, then she moved her hips and he couldn’t speak.

He pulled her to him, chest to chest, to kiss her, their tongues mimicking their lovemaking. Fast and frantic, in and out, no waiting to catch a breath. Their desire and urgency created a thick layer of sweat, bodies hot and slick, sliding together, a perfect fit.

Will rolled her back and they slammed against the couch. Her strong legs wrapped around his waist, giving him deeper access. She gasped beneath him, the slender muscles straining in her neck as her orgasm bubbled to the surface.

One look at Robin’s face and he couldn’t hold back. He pushed into her and released, feeling her muscles tighten around him as they came together. He collapsed onto her, kissing her neck, her ears, tasting the salty slickness of her skin.

Before she could pull away, Will gathered her into his arms, picked her up, and carried her to bed.

“Now we’re going to do this right,” he said.

“That was pretty all right to me,” Robin said, kissing him.

“Slower, Robin. I’m going to kiss every inch of your flesh. I’m going to taste every part of your body.” He stared into her eyes, greener and darker in their lust. “I’m hungry for you, Robin. I’ve been starving for you for seven years.”

Before she could protest, or argue, or remember why she’d been angry with him-rightful or not-his lips found hers.

Will kissed her with the intimacy of a lifelong lover, slow, exquisite, full of passion and love. Robin melted into his body as if they were one body, one soul. And in their exploration, past transgressions washed away.

Will hated leaving Robin while she slept, but she was resting so peacefully he didn’t want to wake her. He left her a note and slipped out at seven, found one of Mario’s men outside the door, and made sure security knew he would return at ten but not to leave Robin alone.

He phoned Trinity on his way to her place.

“It’s seven in the morning,” she moaned.

“Seven thirteen.”

“I worked the late news. And I was up until three going over the transcripts.”

“I’ll bring Starbucks. I need to talk to you, Trinity. It’s important.”

She instantly sounded awake. “What happened? Did Theodore Glenn kill again? I can meet you at the station-”

“I’ll be at your place in twenty minutes. Don’t leave.”

“What-”

He hung up. She’d ask him a million questions he didn’t want to answer yet. He’d just as soon talk to her in person.

On his way over he called Jim Gage on his cell phone. He was already on his way to the lab. “Jim, can you meet with Agent Vigo and me this morning at ten at Robin McKenna’s loft?”

“I don’t have anything new,” he said. “I faxed my report on the Sturgeon crime scene last night. The autopsy is scheduled for this morning-”

“Carina can cover it. I need to talk to you.”

“Why not my office? It’s private.”

“I don’t want anyone in the lab hearing about this.”

Jim didn’t say anything.

“Jim?”

“You want me to keep our meeting off-the-record?”

“You could say that.”

“Why?”

“I don’t want to say over the phone.”

“Is this about the Glenn case?”

This was harder than Will thought. “Are you alone?”

“Yes.”

“It’s about the Anna Clark case. Some new evidence has come to light. Bring the files, but don’t tell anyone. No one, even if you trust them with your life.”

“I don’t like the sound of this. It sounds like my department is being investigated. And the Feds are involved?”

“Just one. You can trust him. Please, Jim. Trust me this once.”

“Ten? I’ll be there.”

“Alone.”

“Alone.”

Will brought Trinity her favorite Starbucks coffee, a triple grande mocha with whipped cream.

She’d already showered and dressed, her blonde hair still wet, combed straight back. She took the drink. “You remembered.” She sipped. “Whipped cream. I gave it up last year.”

Will said, “I’m sorry.”

“Well, when my jeans started getting a little tight I had to cut corners.”

“You are as beautiful as ever.”

“This is scrumptious. I can splurge every now and then.” She smiled brightly, though her sharp eyes held a hint of suspicion. “So why are you trying to bribe me?”

“Sit down.”

“Doesn’t sound good.” She sat on her white sofa. “Give it to me straight, Hooper.”

“Always.”

She raised her eyebrows, but said nothing.

“I want you to run with the report that Theodore Glenn visited you the other night. Complete with his denial of murdering Anna Clark.”

“Why now?”

“Because you’re going to interview me at the station about it, and I’m going to emphatically state that the FBI has reviewed the evidence and concurs with the original report.”

“What? You took me seriously? You reopened the case? When did the Feds-”

He put up his hand. “I’m going to tell you something completely off-the-record, Trinity. Because I like you and I don’t want to deceive you. Glenn didn’t kill Anna.”

She blinked, momentarily confused. But Trinity was a smart woman, and she pieced it together quickly. “You want me to fabricate news?”

“No, I simply want you to report what I officially say. I have the Feds with me on this. I can bring out one of the top FBI profilers, have him say whatever is necessary.”

“I don’t understand.”

He could practically see her mind working double-time trying to figure it out. “We have new evidence suggesting Glenn didn’t kill Anna. The FBI agrees.”

“So why’s he going to lie?”

“Because if Anna’s killer thinks that we’re looking into the investigation, everyone involved is in danger. We also have a convicted murderer on the loose. He’s killed three people since his escape. And something we’ve kept out of the press-so you can’t report on this-Glenn broke into Julia Chandler’s house on the cliffs and left a package. If she were there, he’d have killed her, too, as well as her niece who lives with her.”

“But Connor Kincaid took her out of town.”

“Yes, they are not just out of town, but out of the state. So we’re talking high stakes here-Glenn is not going to stop. And he has help.”

“Help?” She perked up.

“I’m not going to say anything more about that because it may jeopardize her life.”

“Her?”

“Trinity-listen. We don’t know exactly who is helping Glenn, but we have a list of women he regularly communicated with while in prison. We’re all over them right now. But I can’t say anything more about that.”

“All right, all right. Off-the-record, I get that. But I don’t like being used, Will. You have to give me something. I can’t report a lie.”

“You don’t have to. I’m telling you all this because you can say no. If you do what we want, Theodore Glenn may think that you didn’t work hard enough to convince us, or you aren’t looking at the evidence yourself. It could put you at risk.”