Crazy Love Page 12

Emily will know that I did this to save her. She will understand that I had to do what I had to do, to get her away from him and back into my arms where she belongs. Julie knows that there isn’t anything more to what she and I have always had. No harm, no foul.

  I smile. She bites her lip as I tuck a lock of her hair behind her ear, my fingers lingering on her cheek. I let my thumb graze her bottom lip, she sucks in a breath as her eyes darken with lust.

  “What do you think?”

  Whatever happens, I’ll be thinking of my Emily the whole time.

  ***

  I waited on pins and needles all day, eyes on my phone. Nothing. No call from Julie. No call from Emily. When I get home I let a stream of expletives fly out of my mouth as I hang up on her voicemail without leaving a message.

  After I change into a pair of gray sweatpants and a bright green Dri-Fit t-shirt, I walk into the kitchen and open an imported beer.

  I don’t know how much more of this I can stand. I take a long, icy cold drink and set the bottle down on the black granite counter top just as my doorbell rings.

  I walk on bare feet to the front door, opening it without bothering with the peep hole.

  “Evening.” Julie smiles at me shyly.

  She’s wearing a little black dress now, her hair is down and she has on more makeup than usual. I can’t say that I’m surprised to see her. I give her a smile. She walks past me, tucking her hair behind an ear as she walks inside. Her high heels click on my floor in rhythm until she stops and turns to me.

  “Can I get you a drink?” I head to the kitchen.

  “Please. Your place looks just like I remember it. You’re such a clean freak.” She laughs, following me into the immaculate kitchen.

  I pull another beer out, popping the top before I hand it to her. Her eyes touch mine as she brings it to her lips.

  “I know, my OCD gets a little crazy sometimes. It’s easy since I live here alone to just keep it clean.”

  She nods, watching me pick up my beer. I take another long drink. I suppose I should tell her how pretty she looks, how good she smells. The seductive things I know she wants to hear. If it were Emily standing here, it would be no problem.

  I purposely drag my gaze up and down her body. Her breasts shoved into a push up bra, giving her a splendid amount of cleavage, in a dress that almost seems to be too tight on top. Following my gaze, she arches her back just right, pushing her breasts further out. Her finger dances around the lip of her beer.

  “I like that dress.” I stare. She takes a deep breath, stepping towards me.

  “I hoped you would. Seems you’ve been working out.” Reaching up, her fingers slip over my bicep.

  I have, actually. When Emily sees me for the first time, I want to please her. Being so much older than her, I realize that the money and distinguished good looks only go so far if you’re flabby when the clothes come off. I want Emily to look at me with this same wanton desperation that Julie does.

  “I have. I put a gym in the back of the house.”

  The beer is placed on the counter. Julie moves closer to me, fingers brush my forearm, move to my chest. Blazing brown eyes locked on my face. I can’t deny the attraction. Not to mention sexual frustration from watching Emily for all these months, naked and in so many positions. It would be nice to close my eyes and imagine her under me while I’m on top of a real woman.

  She’s never been one to waste time. Julie doesn’t have any problem with expressing what she wants to me when we’ve come together in the past. It’s been a while, but she hasn’t changed.

  If this were Emily... the words echo in my head as I stare down at this hungry woman. I would take her and have her against the wall. I would make her come against my body as I thrust her until she screams my name. I would have this dress ripped to shreds, and she would beg me to do it again.

  I get rough, Julie knows this. It’s why she’s always come back. She told me that I’m the first man that’s ever just taken what he wanted and made her thirsty to have it done again and again.

  Gently, I touch her hair. I trace the line of her jaw, and her eyes drift closed, a sigh on her lips. My fingers dance down her neck, to the swell of her breast. I palm them, in turn. I slide my hand up her neck, into her hair, grabbing a fist full of it and giving a hard tug that widens her eyes.

  She gasps, but her eyes give away her lust. I lean close to her ear.

  “Is this what you want?” I whisper.

  “Yes, sir.”

  I smile. She remembers our game.

  “Tell me.”

  She pants the words. “Please, sir.”

  Shoving her back, the blood rushes through my body, making me grateful that I’m wearing comfortable pants as I grow engorged.

  “Take off your dress.”

  She stumbles, just catching herself before she falls down. She moves to take off her shoes.

  “Not the shoes.”

  A nod. Gripping the hem of her dress, she pulls it over her head, folding it and setting it on the nearest chair. She stands before me in nothing but a hot pink, push up bra and high heels. I shoot her a wicked smile. Her joy at my pleasure reflects in her eyes, but she doesn’t smile.

  “Ah, she’s a bad girl. No panties, officer?”

  A grin tickles her lips, but doesn’t land.

  “No, sir.”

  I stare at her openly, enjoying the tightness of a body that’s pushed to it’s limits on a daily basis in the gym. How I’ve missed this. I forgotten the surge of adrenaline I get from a woman ready to cower at my feet, begging to please me with wide eyes.

  I move, circling her but not touching her. She whimpers when I reach up, freeing her breasts from the bra in one move, folding it and placing it on top of the dress.

  I pull off my shirt, then lean close.

  “Do you want me to fuck you?”

  “Please.”

  “Please what?”

  “Please fuck me, sir.”

  I grin, pleased. “On your knees.”

  Instantly, she drops. I release myself from my pants, she groans at the sight of me. I grab her by her hair, a hard fist, a sharp cry in pain from her pretty lips.

  “Take it.”

  And she does. As she works me, I look down on her with a moan. It’s Emily here, on her knees begging for me, not Julie. It’s a red head I see bobbing back and forth, not a brown one. It’s her tongue flicking over every inch of me, begging to taste more of me, moaning when I pull her hair.

  I see Emily on her knees, her hands with a tight grip on my ass pulling me farther into her mouth.

  My knees almost buckle. With a jerk on her hair, I find my voice again, pushing the words out on a groan. “Get up.”

  As soon as she rises, wiping her mouth, I push her into the wall. Her shoes fall off when I pick her up, holding her hard against the wall, thrusting roughly into her. A groan, a cry of pure pleasure as I take her.

  I hear Emily’s groans, her voice begging me to go harder. I feel her nails dig into my back, her legs wrap around my hips, thrusting her so hard that it’s got to hurt, but she just begs for more.

  Sweat slicks both our bodies, we just keep going. She comes around me, and I almost groan Emily’s name when I feel her tighten on me, her body bowing as she screams, racked with rolling ecstasy.

  Her grip on me sends me blindly into the depths of one of the biggest orgasms of my life. I have to grit my teeth to keep Emily’s name from breaking out of my throat as I ride it to the edge.

  Julie falls slack against me, her head on my shoulder.

  “God, Noah. I swear you’re even better than before.”

  I kiss her forehead. “You too.”

  When I look down into her face, I feel like pushing her off me. I want to throw her clothes at her and tell her to get out.

  Thanks, I enjoyed the ride.

  Instead, I pull her into the kitchen and hand her a bottle of water. I know she’s not going anywhere. She will want more.

  It’s okay
. When I look at her, all I can see is Emily.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Emily

  I open my eyes finding myself in a bare room. It’s dim, the only light comes from the window. Smells like a hospital. I gasp when I see him. Noah, sitting on the edge of my bed. He’s holding my hand, watching me with sad eyes.

  “Baby, do you know where you are? Can you hear me?” His voice is sad, almost desperate.

  I can’t move, my eyes are heavy, can’t find my voice to scream.

  I bolt up in bed. My chest heaves in the dark room as I try to catch my breath. Brushing angry tears off my face, I look around the room trying to figure out where I am.

  Oh, that’s right. Home with Isaiah.

  Nightmare.

  Leaning forward, I rest my face in trembling hands as I will my brain to recover from the dream. No one is here, no one is watching me. I peek through my fingers. Isaiah sleeps soundly beside me on his stomach. Dim light shines through the blinds and lights up his face. Blonde hair disheveled, lips parted in slow, deep breaths. A light snore coming from his throat.

  Leaning over, I find the t-shirt that Isaiah pulled off me hours ago and slip into it. The cotton is cool against my sweat-laden, damp skin. Laying back, I flip the pillow to the cool side and rest my hand on his arm. Touching him brings me back to reality and out of the dream, now fading into a fuzzy memory.

  Funny how even when the dream fades, the fear lingers still.

  He shifts in his sleep, rolling onto his side. Eyes flutter open, unseeing, and close again as he curls his arm over my stomach. I move into him, absorbing his body heat as the sweat evaporates off my skin, chilling me.

  I’ve tried to be strong. The woman that doesn’t need anyone’s help. Standing on my own two feet since I was eighteen years old. I put myself through school, graduated, and paid my bills. I’ve been proud to hold my head high knowing that I did it all on my own. I’ve always felt that I could handle anything that came my way.

  I lay here, snuggled against this man. I laugh silently as his body heats mine. I’ve fallen for a damn cop. Ever the hero, protective, selfless. The opposite of who I thought I’d end up with. A blue collar, beer drinking, pizza gobbling guy with a head full of blonde hair and a smile to make girls sigh all over Texas.

  Somehow, with him I don’t feel the need to prove myself any longer. It seems to be acceptable that I lean on him, just a little bit.

  ***

  On the drive into work my phone rings. Not recognizing the number, I hesitate, but my curiosity and the annoyance of a ringing phone gets the best of me. My new iPhone, courtesy of Isaiah. I swipe the screen just as I pull up to a red light in the early morning.

  “Hello.”

  “Hi, Emily. This is Sargent Julie Barton of the Katy Police. We met once, maybe you remember?”

  “Yes, you work with Isaiah. I remember you.”

  “I need to ask you a few questions, can I meet you sometime today? Maybe this morning?”

  I flip my blinker, turning left. This must be about my house and the camera. It never occurred to me how many people might see it when I handed it over to Isaiah to turn into the police.

  “Yeah, I’m sure I can get away for a bit. My boss knows what’s going on, so he should be all right with me taking a break.”

  “Good, I’ll come by in about an hour then. You still work at the CVS on Main, correct?”

  “Yes.”

  “Great. I’ll see you soon then.”

  After hanging up, I toss the phone into the seat beside me with a sigh. On one hand, I’m happy to see someone taking this seriously besides Isaiah. On the other, the thought of speaking to a police officer about things going on in my personal life irks me. I’m used to being on my own, until recently that is. I’ve always dealt with my problems by myself.

  This is the first time that I haven’t been able to do that. Involving the police just seems like too much, but I know it has to be this way. After seeing that tape, nothing’s been the same. I close my eyes and I see the image of that shadow standing next to my bed watching me sleep.

  My stalker has even found his way into my dreams now.

  I pull into the parking lot of CVS, turning off my car. Isaiah told me to look around, pay attention to who is around me before I get out of the car. This is what I do. I glance around as I shove my keys into my purse and text him, letting him know that I got to work safely.

  I’ve always liked my job. Lately it’s been less than enjoyable. All I do is stress about who’s coming in the front door. I jump when my phone rings. I’m constantly looking behind me to see if anyone is following me. The other day someone walked up and put a hand on my shoulder, I shouted and jumped so high that they laughed at me for the rest of the day.

  My coworkers don’t know what’s going on. My boss knows a little, just enough. I don’t want them to know that something like this is happening to me. I still find it hard to believe myself.

  Just over an hour later, I see that woman, Barton, walk into the pharmacy. She’s not in a uniform, but it’s clear she’s a cop. Khaki pants and a black polo with the police logo on the left corner. Her gun hanging off her hip as she walks my way.

  I glance around, making my excuse before anyone knows that she’s here for me. I scoot out of the booth and meet her down the shampoo aisle, intercepting her.

  She smiles weakly at me. One of her brown hairs slips out of her ponytail and falls in her face. “Hi, can I call you Emily?” She shoves a hand at me, I shake it.

  “Of course.”

  Another half assed attempt at a smile. “Can we go across the street for a coffee?”

  “Sure.”

  I follow her across the street to the coffee shop. She buys me a cup of decaf and we sit in a corner. She stirs her latte absently as she looks up at me.

  “I had Noah Burrell in my office yesterday. Do you know him?”

  I bristle, sitting up a little straighter. “Sort of. Seems he thinks he knows me.” I mumble the last bit.

  “And how about your relationship with Isaiah? How is that?”

  The question confuses me. I sip my coffee, wondering what business my relationship with Isaiah is of hers.

  “It’s great. I don’t understand what that has to do with my problem.”

  She nods, setting down the stirring stick. “Are you friends with Noah?”

  “No. I’m not friends with him. I’m pretty sure he’s the one stalking me.”

  Something strange flashes across her face as she looks down into her coffee. I cross my arms and sit back in the high back chair. The scroll work in the metal digs into my back.

  She clears her throat, sips her coffee.

  “It seems he is under the impression that you two are close. He told me that he thinks you are in danger with Isaiah. How do you feel about that?”

  If this woman wasn’t a cop I’d be in her face for that. I take a deep breath as blood rushes in my ears. Remind myself that she’s just doing her job.

  “I think he’s a fucking lunatic, that’s what I think. He’s been calling me, showing up at my job, filmed me, broken into my house and apparently made himself at home in my attic. Now he’s accusing the most fantastic person I’ve ever known of hurting me? This is ludacris. Isaiah is...” My voice breaks. I try to swallow the lump in my throat, but it rises, tears threaten my eyes. Detective Barton raises an eyebrow at me, then her face calms into stone. “He’s amazing. He treats me like a princess and he loves me for who I am. I love him. I don’t even know Noah. We’ve talked here in the parking lot, that’s it. I’ve never hung out with him, or given him any reason to think that we are anything other than passing acquaintances. Something is wrong with him.”

  Tears stream down my face. I don’t bother to wipe them away. Falling heavily back in the chair. She clicks a fingernail on the table.

  “I understand why you’re upset. I have to ask these questions. Follow up on the accusations.”

  “Does Isaiah know about this?”<
br />
  She meets my eyes with a sigh. “No, he doesn’t. I wanted to talk to you first, see if there is any basis for it.”

  I lean forward. “Isaiah told me that you are friends with him?”

  Her eyes give away the truth. She is friends with him. I don’t get an answer. She sips her coffee, then looks back up at me.

  “He mentioned that your house has been broken into, did either of you talk to him?”

  I laugh. “Hell no. I’ve been doing everything I can to avoid him. The reason he knows is because he did it. Are you people ever going to be able to stop him? This is driving me crazy. I want my life back!” Of course, I leave out my phone call. No reason to point out my own naïve stupidity.

  As I watch her I wonder if she will actually be honest in her report about this, or if she will cover for Noah. The woman shifts here and there. She’s uncomfortable. I have half a mind to throw a couple questions at her, but I leave it alone.

  “So what happens now?” I ask, finally.

  “I’ll write this up. I have to go talk to Caroline, he mentioned her too. When that’s done I’ll talk to Isaiah. I appreciate you meeting me today. Is there anything you would like to tell me, before we part ways?”

  I stand up. “No.”

  She nods, picks up her coffee. I toss the rest of mine in the trash. I don’t have the stomach for it anymore.

  ***

  Isaiah

  When my cell phone rings and I see Emily’s name flashing on the screen of my smart phone, a smile breaks out on my face. I glance up at my buddy, the patrol officer that’s sitting across from me in my office and he rolls his eyes at me.

  “Hey, baby,” I answer.

  The officer fakes a gag, laughing. I flip him off and he grins at me.

  “Hi. Did you know that your Sergeant came to see me today?”

  “Who, Barton? No, I didn’t. She doing a follow up or something?”

  She snorts out a sarcastic laugh. “You might say that. She asked me if you were abusing me, that’s all.”

  “What?”

  “Yep. Seems that our friend Noah told her that he and I are close friends and that he is worried that you are abusing me somehow. I told her the truth. I kind of chewed her out, honestly. I probably shouldn’t have, but I lost it.”