Hell Is Burning Page 11

  He wanted everything.

  Croft craved it.

  This was his woman.

  Turning her around, yet again, he yanked her back against him, so her back was pressed tightly to his torso. He wanted Emma to feel what she’d done to his body.

  He was hard.

  Ready.

  Needy.

  Only she did this to him.

  Emma Croft was the key to his life, and he couldn’t wait to unlock what they shared.

  “Oh, Emma, my sweet,” he whispered as his mouth began tearing her control to shreds. As his lips tracked the long line of her shoulders, like hers had done, his hands found her breasts. He cupped them, enjoying the weight in his hands. The slide of lace against his rough skin was erotic and so delicious, that he wanted to find his way home.

  She shook against him.

  When her breathy gasps filled the air, as he nibbled on her neck, Greyson wanted more.

  “I want to feel you,” he whispered.

  Emma pulled free before pushing him onto the bed. Greyson sat as his wife dropped to her knees.

  “Oh, God,” he muttered before she even touched him. It was the whole picture.

  His wife knelt before him, her hair was wild and riotous, and all he wanted was to feel.

  “I’m going to kiss and make you better,” she whispered, trying to keep her voice low. They had company, and she didn't want them all to know she was getting her Croft on.

  Or maybe that was getting her Croft off.

  When her mouth found him, he dropped back to stare up at the ceiling. As Emma’s lips and tongue moved across his dick, he swore there was no better feeling in the world.

  Then she started stroking him with her hand too.

  Yeah, that was pure heaven.

  His kitten was wicked, and Greyson loved every second of it.

  With each glide of her mouth, he was one step closer to heaven. The pleasure wrapped around him in wave after wave of delicious heat.

  His wife knew his body well. She hit all the highpoints without missing a beat. He was strung tighter than a bow, and his body was so very close to breaking apart.

  “Emma,” he whispered. If he looked down at her, he was pretty sure he’d lose it. He could hear the wet sound of her mouth swallowing and releasing his erection, and the visual just might kill him.

  When he couldn’t take it anymore, he sat up and pulled her to his body.

  She was surprised at first, and then pleased that she could push him past his control. That was one of her favorite things about her husband. While he was the man in charge of his world, and usually theirs, in bed she had control. “It’s too bad we don’t have more time. I would have let you tie me up and have your way with me.”

  His heart pounded.

  “Don’t tease, Emma,” he warned, slapping her on the ass. “You know that’s up there on my list of things I want to try out,” he admitted as she perched herself in his lap. Since the day he’d mentioned they didn't have any toys, Emma had gone out of her way to make him even crazier.

  Suddenly, he was focused on his daydreams and not paying attention. Without warning, Emma slipped him into her body.

  Greyson lost the ability to think.

  Speak.

  Move.

  In fact, he couldn’t do anything that didn't involve his lower body. He was trapped in the moment.

  “I love you,” she whispered, beginning to move.

  He stared down, and his pants were still on, her panties were tugged to the side, and they were like two randy kids in the back of the parents’ borrowed car.

  “I love you,” he muttered, watching his erection disappear into her body.

  All he was thinking about was tying up his kitten. It got him hot and bothered.

  “Grey,” she moaned, as she began shaking around him.

  He knew it was coming, and he sealed his mouth to hers in preparation for the explosion. When she came, her body tightening down on his, Greyson fought hard. As soon as the waves of pleasure had abated, he pushed her off his lap and stood.

  Emma watched him like some big, lazy cat. It was hard not to. Her husband took good care of his body. Every day, he’d sweat in the gym to hold back the effects of time. From the cuts of muscle to the molten silvery eyes, she was lost.

  And that was a very good thing.

  “Mmmmm, you’re really sexy,” she stated. “I’m a very lucky girl.”

  Greyson dropped the rest of his clothes to the floor and yanked hers from her body. “I’m about to become a very lucky man.”

  She grinned, and then the entire room shifted as he flipped her to her stomach. When Greyson pinned her to the bed, Emma wiggled her ass against his raging erection to torment him further. There was nothing like provoking her caveman.

  “Aren’t you going to take me, Greyson?” she teased, begging for it.

  He was thinking about tying her up, so she’d be trapped. He couldn’t help it. The visuals in his mind were so overwhelmingly hot, that there was a good chance he’d go up in flames. When he was able to focus, he pressed her firmly to the mattress before burying himself in her body.

  She gasped at the invasion, and then was pulled to her knees. Greyson loved taking her this way, and obviously, Emma was on the same page. Her moaning and begging told the tale.

  It was primitive.

  It was hot.

  It was typical of her caveman.

  In all honesty, when his hands went into her hair to use it as leverage in their love making, Emma couldn’t complain. “More,” she whispered, as his breathing became labored. It wasn’t from the exertion, but the passion.

  “Jesus, Emma,” he muttered, watching himself disappear into the warmth of her body. “This is always so hot.”

  She wouldn’t complain. “Take me, Greyson,” she urged, knowing what would set him off, and it did.

  He began pounding himself into her body--one hand in her hair--the other on her hip. With his sheer power, he was driving into her wantonly.

  She loved it.

  She craved it.

  Emma begged him never to stop.

  Greyson wanted to lose it, but he needed to fall with his woman. So, he reached around to slide his fingers through the wetness. As his mouth was so very close to her ear, he began telling her what he was going to do when she was bound for him. His words were raw and filled with passion.

  Emma shook.

  His body tightened.

  Everything in them began breaking a part.

  Then, it happened.

  Greyson exploded, pouring hotly into her body. Emma took all he had to offer, wanting more and more. There would never be enough of her sexy cave Croft.

  “Oh, Grey!” she whispered, as her body shattered under the pleasure filled thrusts.

  Together they tumbled, the colors and pleasure swirling wildly around them.

  Neither spoke.

  There was nothing to say.

  Instead, they drifted. It wasn’t until Emma could feel him sliding out of her body, and as she was being lifted, that she opened her eyes.

  Greyson was moving her in to her position on the pillows. There was nothing she loved more.

  When he hit the lights and climbed into bed, she cuddled against him.

  “Promise me you’ll never leave me, Emma,” he said.

  She looked up at him in the dark. Even in the moonlight, she could see the tension across his face. He was scared. “I swear I won’t.”

  Then she kissed him, and that’s how they drifted off to sleep.

  Warm.

  Wet.

  Content.

  Satiated.

  And gratefully… alive.

  Chapter Four

  Wednesday Morning

  When morning finally came, they were exhausted, but it didn't matter. They had a job to do, and the team would be arriving soon. It wasn’t logistically possible for Emma to make breakfast for everyone there, so they ordered in. Sometimes, you just had to take the easier
route to solve a problem.

  When security delivered from the local bakery, Greyson was already salivating.

  Don’t get him wrong.

  He loved Emma’s muffins, but the prospect of biting down into one filled with nothing but unhealthy lard and sugar filled him with such giddiness.

  Sex last night.

  Sugar this morning.

  All he needed now was a cigar, and he was pretty much set for the perfect day.

  It was the little things like this that kept him going when he knew the reality was going to be a cold hard bitch. This case was going to be painful to all of them.

  Glancing over, he noticed his wife was watching him. Greyson knew how to lighten the mood.

  So, he went with it.

  “Emma, she means nothing to me,” he stated, holding the blueberry muffin in his hand. “I swear. It’s just a cheap, tawdry affair, and when she’s gone, I won’t daydream about her like I do you.”

  She snorted. “You’re out of control, and it’s barely eight in the morning.”

  He grinned. It did him good to chase the shadows from her eyes. Croft knew his wife. She was hurting deep down. The cop veneer was just that. Emma was mourning the loss of her friend.

  As his brother and Steele wandered into the kitchen, both men were dressed, but one looked a little messed up. Someone had been mauled. It was obvious.

  “Steele, your tie is crooked, and your hair is standing up,” Greyson said, slowly stripping his muffin from the wrapper.

  Dante grinned. “Gee. How did that happen?” he asked, going to Emma to give her a kiss. “Ohhhh, muffins! Now I know why my brother is smiling.”

  Greyson wiggled his eyebrows at Emma. He was thinking about the hours before. Muffin schmuffin--he had some hot sexiness before bed. That was the surefire way to get him to grin.

  When Dante took a seat, Steele helped himself to some coffee. Emma straightened his tie for him and fixed his hair. No one missed the motherly act. “We can’t have you leaving Castle Croft looking like you were jumped.”

  Greyson choked on muffin. “Really? I don’t need to picture it.”

  Dante grinned at his brother. “I do, and it was stellar--if I do say so myself. Oh look! I just did.”

  Steele grabbed a muffin and took a seat beside his boyfriend. Then he elbowed him. “Don’t torment your brother,” he ordered.

  Dante stared at him. “Are you kidding? This is the one time in my life where I can bust his ass, and he can’t do anything about it.”

  In all honesty, Greyson didn’t mind. At first, he was a little uncomfortable around the two men and their sexuality, only because he didn't get it. He liked breasts.

  Specifically the ones attached to his sexy wife.

  So, this was odd to him, but now… it was normal. His brother was gay, he was having a hot and heavy relationship with an ME, so he’d adjusted.

  “Actually, he can. He’s my boss.”

  Again, Greyson grinned. When he reached for another muffin, Emma stopped him.

  “He can’t do anything to Steele, because I happen to love him, and that would make me mad. As for another muffin, it’s not happening.”

  “But I…”

  She cut him off. It was a good thing, because there was a knock at the door.

  Croft gave up. He’d at least had one, and if there were any left over after their breakfast debriefing, he’d steal one on his way out the door. She may be boss of the baked goods, but he was still king of the castle.

  When Croft opened the door, Paris and Tessa rolled in.

  Literally.

  She was sitting in his lap, holding his messenger bag.

  “Sorry, boss, but we didn't have time for the gym, and this is my exercise,” Paris said, flexing his arm.

  He didn't mind. The two people entering his home had become part of his family. When Curtis and Brynn dumped them out of anger, he and Emma had found other people who filled their hearts.

  His profiler and his woman were part of their inner circle.

  “No problem. There are muffins and coffee on the island. Dante and Steele are here, and we have two more coming.”

  Greyson followed them into the kitchen where Emma handed Paris a plate and mug. He balanced it on his lap after Tessa had vacated her seat to sit on a stool.

  A lot happened in the last two months. While their relationship had been rocky, now it was leveling out. Tessa stopped babying the man, and he stopped having a pity party.

  “How’s Curtis?” Tessa asked.

  Everyone went somber. It was like the switch was flicked, and they weren’t going to be the family, but the team of people who fought crime.

  “He’s in his room,” Croft said. “I brought him here.”

  That said it all.

  “I feel bad for him,” Dante said. “If there’s anything I can do to help out just let me know,” he offered. “He has to be hurting over all this.”

  Croft was glad to hear that. “He is, and that’s why I need a favor.”

  His brother was all ears.

  “Can you work from the condo today?” he asked. “I know that you’re busy, but this is important.”

  Dante sipped his coffee. His brother looked dead serious, and that was his cue not to bust his ass.

  “Sure. I can do that for you, Grey.”

  Dante was running their empire, and if they wanted him to be there, he could do it. It might be tricky while he was overseeing the construction at Terrace Glen, but it could be done by video conference.

  “I appreciate it.”

  “Are you worried about Curtis?” Dante knew his brother loved the man just as much as he loved him. There was a bond there--well, before Curtis bailed on him. Apparently, it was never severed.

  “Steele is heading in to work in the morgue, Emma and I have to investigate and do interviews, and my two agents are going to be working from my office. We don’t want to leave Curtis alone.” He lowered his voice. “He’s going to need everyone to circle around him and keep him isolated. If this hits the media, you know how they are. He’ll be on the front page, simply because of his connection to me.”

  They all understood.

  “I can handle it. I don’t mind babysitting.”

  It was time for Greyson to come clean. If his people were going to protect Curtis, then he needed them to know the entirety of the situation. “You should know that last night, I found him ready to take his life. I don’t want him to hurt himself, so you really have to watch him. I think it was the booze and his feelings of hopelessness. I hope I’m not going to have to turn him over to a shrink.”

  Paris spoke up, “I can evaluate him if you want. It’s not my job as an FBI profiler, but I’m qualified to pick up any of the signals that he might hurt himself.”

  He thought about it.

  “Just keep your eyes on him. We may have to take that route later. I have to have hope that he’s going to pull through this. Curtis is strong. His family will get him through the rough patches. I know we can do it.”

  Before anyone could speak, there was knocking at the door. Emma went to get it, but Greyson stopped her.

  “I have it, honey.”

  When he got to the door, after pulling it open, Greyson was happy to see Christopher Ford and Emma’s partner, Mace Bristol. The last of the team had finally arrived, and they could get down to business.

  “Come on in. Breakfast is in the kitchen--coffee too.”

  He didn't need to say it twice. Both men were bachelors, and they didn't mind stopping by for food and camaraderie. In fact, Greyson was perfectly fine with that too. You could never have too many loyal friends surrounding you.

  “Captain,” Emma said as he entered.

  “Chris,” he stated. “I’m not on the clock.”

  She smiled and handed him a mug of coffee.

  When he sipped it, he took a second to enjoy the taste. There was no doubt that the Crofts knew how to spend their money the right way.

  Caffeine wa
s the way to go.

  “Hey, Mace, are you hungry?” she asked, handing him the last blueberry muffin.

  Intentionally…

  Greyson actually growled in her ear as he moved into the kitchen to refill his coffee. He’d been foiled again. Well, little did she know, he’d eat any baked goods. Blueberry was his favorite, but he wasn’t above chocolate chip muffins either. After all, beggars, or men who had strict diets--thanks to their wives--couldn’t be choosers.

  “Since everyone is here, we should get started,” Croft offered, leading them, with their food, into the living room. Everyone took a seat, and they pulled out their files to get down to business.

  “I printed these out, and then locked down the rest of the autopsies,” stated Steele, handing out the three copies of the results to everyone in the room. “I think they’re pretty cut and dry, but I’m able to answer any questions you might have.”

  They all flipped through them, scanning the details.

  “How about you give us a quick breakdown, Doctor?” Emma asked. She liked hearing the report. For some reason, she picked up more information regarding a case that way.

  Steele sipped his coffee as he flipped through his own copies until he got to the first two victims.

  “Max Pauley got the ID’s matched, and we have the victims’ names,” Steele began. “Our first woman is Shirley Golden. She was twenty four at the time of her death. I did a thorough autopsy on her and found that COD was definitely strangulation. Thankfully for her sake, she wasn’t likely alive when she was strung up. There was bruising around her neck and under the magnifying lens, it appeared to be handprints. If you take that and add it to the fact that her hyoid wasn’t broken, that to me indicates that she was likely strangled before she was strung up.”

  Emma fielded this one. “Okay, so she was taken, strangled, and hung up there for us to find.”

  “That’s my professional opinion.”

  They all made notes, especially Paris. Already, he was building his profile in his head. If the killer was taking their life first and then hanging them, it was about the presentation. In the killer’s mind, he or she was setting a scene.

  “Our second victim, Blanca Reilly, was also fairly young. She was twenty two at the time of death. From her examination, like Shirley, she was in perfect health.”