Dying to Love (An FBI Romance Thriller Book 18) Page 2

“I do. They are sweet and pure.”

  He pointed at his wallet. “Go ahead.”

  “You’re the best, sugar.”

  He patted her bare knee.

  What was taking so damn long?

  “Still hot?” he asked.

  “No, I’m cooling down nicely,” she said, sipping more water from the bottle.

  She really liked this guy. He wouldn’t be a bad husband. She wondered… “Do you like kids?”

  “Oh, yes, I do.”

  Maybe later, she could get him to make this more permanent.

  He grinned at her. “We’re almost there.”

  She yawned again.

  “You look tired.”

  “I am.”

  The inside of the car began wavering, and she couldn’t feel her tongue. It was starting to get thick, and she couldn’t focus.

  “What did you…?” She couldn’t get it out. Her heart began pounding in her chest.

  She knew what was happening. As a hooker, her pimp warned them all not to drink or eat anything the Johns gave them.

  Shit!

  She screwed up.

  “It’s just some drugs. You’ll be fine.”

  She fought to keep her eyes open. “Why?” she murmured. “Why are you doing this?”

  Where to begin?

  “I need you.”

  He patted her leg and removed her hand from his crotch. He wasn’t interested in her. He had the perfect woman to catch, and her name was Elizabeth.

  “I need to borrow you and your child.”

  She began panicking, but the drugs were way to strong. She had to fight to save her child.

  “Don’t worry. You won’t suffer. I’m not a mean person. I’m just a man who has a goal in mind.”

  Her eyes closed and her head lolled around. As soon as she was out, he pulled over. Picking up her purse, he sought out her driver’s license.

  Once it was out, he smiled.

  Now he had her address, and he already knew the child was home alone.

  This was too easy.

  They weren’t far from her place, and it looked like he’d make it home to watch the nightly news.

  He studied the address.

  “You poor thing. You live in a slum, and your baby…tsk tsk. You are a horrible mother. You’re nothing like my beautiful Elizabeth. First you left your child alone, and now you compromised her safety.”

  He slapped her across the face, just because it infuriated him. This woman had the morals of an alley cat.

  Here was the proof.

  Time was a fleeting.

  He pulled back onto the road, knowing he had to be careful. For now, he needed a secluded spot to adjust his cargo.

  He couldn’t risk being seen.

  People had cameras all over the place now a days.

  Finally, after a few minutes, he found the perfect spot. Parking in an alley, around the corner from her home, he knew he needed to hide the body. He couldn’t risk it.

  So, he dumped her in his trunk, grabbed her keys from her purse, and headed toward the building she had made her nest.

  There were pushers, drug addicts, and more hookers hanging out in front. None of them looked at him. He wasn’t surprised.

  He blended in.

  No one ever noticed him.

  It was his cross to bear.

  Tonight, it was a good thing. It was time to sneak in, and do what had to be done. Pulling the hoodie over his head, he walked right past them all, into the building, and up three flights of stairs. At her door, he pulled his sleeve over his hand.

  Then he walked right inside.

  Perfect.

  As he crept through the place, he noticed it was filled with toys. Apparently, she wasn’t a horrible mother.

  She was trying.

  It made him feel bad, but he had to do this. He had no choice. With DC, this would go right to the local police. He needed something to get Elizabeth’s attention.

  He needed to make sure she started dating him. This would be the way to begin the courtship.

  This was the only way he could do it.

  So, he crept into the child’s room.

  In the crib, she slept. He felt horrible, but at least it would be fast. As she slept, he did what needed to be done.

  He ended her miserable life.

  She was better off.

  Her mother was a whore, she lived in a slum, and she never stood a chance. She’d likely end up just like the woman who created her. At least now, her life would have some meaning. She was the way to bridge the gap to the woman he loved.

  He held the bloody knife in his shaking hand and stared at it.

  That’s when it occurred to him.

  Grabbing some cotton swabs, he dipped them into the pooling blood. That’s when he penned his love letter to Elizabeth. He left it where she would see it.

  He needed her to come.

  He needed her to be his.

  This would do it.

  If there was one thing he knew about Elizabeth Whitefox-Blackhawk, it was that she was a good mother. This would outrage her.

  This would make her angry enough to accept his challenge, and in the end, when it was all said and done, she’d be his.

  She was his soul mate.

  He’d studied her for a while and knew how she worked. If this didn’t set her off…nothing would.

  Dropping the swabs, he stared at his work.

  It made him proud. He’d found a way to catch the most beautiful woman in the world.

  She’d be his bed mate.

  She’d be his sexy arm candy.

  She’d be his wife.

  When this was over, one thing would remain true.

  Elizabeth Blackhawk would fall for him.

  He was a gentleman, a romantic at heart, and her soul mate.

  They were meant to be. He was crime, and she was the law that would chase him.

  Until death do they part.

  * * * B l a c k h a w k - W h i t e f o x * * *

  The Next Night

  Oh, he had so much fun with the last one. He took her back to his place, tied her up, used her body, and then cleaned her up. He couldn’t leave her dirty.

  No, that wouldn’t be right.

  She was human, after all.

  He’d studied Elizabeth, and he knew she’d use the tiniest thing to find him. So, he made sure he left her nothing to work with but the dead woman. If they were meant to be together, she’d figure it out.

  She’d have to work for it.

  He’d leave her just enough to keep her engaged.

  He loved a game.

  He loved a smart woman, and she was definitely that and so much more.

  It was fun to plan it out. It was like mystery theater. He was the great Professor Moriarty, and she was Sherlock Holmes. They were about to go head to head, and he would be the winner.

  The game was afoot, and the prize would be her love.

  He couldn’t wait.

  It gave him chills.

  As he dumped the first woman, he made sure that the driver’s license was tucked back into her purse where they would find it. Then they would go to her place.

  It would be the key to it all.

  The cops would find her, and when they went to investigate, they’d find the child.

  Then…

  They’d call her.

  He’d read about all the other killers who called her out. It was a matter of pride with her. When a crazy threw down the gauntlet, Elizabeth fought for justice.

  Wasn’t that so damn sweet?

  She was so darling.

  He couldn’t wait until that moment when they met on the field of battle, and he would claim the fair maiden as his prize.

  She would be his.

  Until then...

  He had to keep his distance. She was married to that Indian who was running the FBI. That made it hard to approach her. She had armed guards following her wherever she went.

  She was protected.


  Hovered over.

  Babysat.

  When she was his, this bullshit wouldn’t be necessary. He was all she really needed.

  It would be all him.

  Then she would see that she didn’t need that with him. She’d be happy in his world.

  He could keep her protected, safe, and loved.

  He would cherish her.

  He would treat her like a queen.

  He would be her everything.

  She would understand, once she found him. Once she walked up to him, she’d be in awe.

  He did this all for her.

  He wanted her to be happy. He knew from all the interviews, the news stories, and the paper, that she was truly at peace when she was being an agent.

  She said it over and over again, but it seemed that no one heard it but him.

  Oh, he’d do anything to make her happy. In fact, he was giving her a case.

  He was giving her joy.

  And he wasn’t done.

  No.

  It was just the beginning.

  Pulling up to the curb, he let the next flower lean into the window of his ride.

  “What’s shakin’, sugar?” asked the one hooker, giving him one hell of a tit shot.

  “I need to get off, but I have…requirements.”

  The woman shrugged. She didn’t give a shit what he needed. She wanted his money, and she’d play his game.

  “What?”

  “Do you have kids?”

  “Yes.”

  “Perfect. Get in.”

  She wasn’t going to question it. She wasn’t going to say anything to scare this one off. It had been a slow night on the stroll, and she wanted nothing more than to be done with it.

  She faced him in the car.

  “Where to?” she asked.

  “I know a place.”

  “What are you looking for?” she inquired. “I’m pretty pricey. I have this technique…”

  He grinned. “I’ll give you whatever you want. You said you were a mother.”

  “Yes, I am. I have a little one.”

  He handed her a bottle of water that he’d opened. “You look thirsty. Let’s go.”

  She drank the water as he drove toward the motel.

  “That’s nice of you.”

  “I like to be nice. It’s important now a days that men treat women better. I think they’re all special.”

  She finished her water.

  This guy had to be on something. Men now a days didn’t give a shit about women. They used, abused, and walked away.

  In fact, she hated men.

  She simply loved the cash.

  “I agree. Now, what do you want?” she asked, as she began yawning.

  “You said you had a specialty. I want that. I have a specialty too.”

  The woman leaned back. She was getting drowsy.

  “What’s wrong with me?” she asked. “I don’t feel well at all.”

  “You need a nap. Close your eyes. I’ll take really good care of you,” he promised.

  She couldn’t fight it.

  “Help!” she whispered. “Someone help me!”

  It was barely audible.

  “Tonight, we’ll have some fun, but first…I need to make sure I get my girlfriend something special. I love her so, and the perfect gift would mean the world to her.”

  He pulled over and grabbed her purse. In it, he found her ID, and it had an address. Again, he hit the road, knowing this had to be enough. This had to be perfect. Once she saw it, she’d know.

  She’d be grateful.

  Elizabeth would see how hard he’d worked to find her the perfect gift.

  He headed toward this woman’s home.

  It was time to spill some blood. She’d come. Oh, she’d definitely come for him now.

  And that was what he wanted.

  She was going to be his.

  Whether she liked it or not.

  * * * B l a c k h a w k - W h i t e f o x * * *

  Hotel Monaco

  Room Three Ten

  Being a bestselling author had its perks, and this was one of them. He could get any woman he wanted, and the redhead bouncing on his dick was no different.

  A lot had happened the last two months, since his name had been leaked. Women flocked to him.

  They flirted.

  They left him their panties in an attempt to get in his boxers.

  He even had salacious requests to meet at hotels around the city. They knew he was married, and they didn’t care.

  At first, it was irritating, and then…yeah, then…Callen figured out that it could work to his advantage.

  Why not get laid?

  While he loved sex with his wife, this was hot. It was dirty, secretive, and it got him off. In fact, he’d cum so many times, he’d be sore for a few days.

  He didn’t care.

  The more pussy, the better.

  He couldn’t believe this was the third time he’d screwed this woman in the last ninety minutes. He was still rock hard and wanting more.

  She was his addiction.

  He’d found the perfect one.

  Pulling his dick out of her, he spun her around until she was leaning against his broad chest. He grabbed handfuls of ample breasts as his rock-hard erection rested between her ass cheeks.

  “I’m going to make you scream my name, slut,” he whispered in her ear.

  “Please.”

  He couldn’t wait any longer.

  He wanted her.

  Callen had to have her.

  Bending her over, he forced her body against the hotel furniture. Then, he took aim and he drove himself into her body with no care of how rough he’d been. If she wanted to get with Jackson James, she was going to have to take everything he had to offer, and more.

  As he pounded himself into her, he slapped her hard on the ass. His handprint would be there a while, and he loved every second of it.

  “More,” he hissed, burying himself in her sweet, round ass. He couldn’t get enough.

  He was ready to cum, and he still wanted more. He’d filled every hole she had, and he couldn’t stop.

  She’d said the magic words.

  She told him he could do whatever he wanted with her.

  Hello!

  That was the only invitation he needed.

  She wanted him to cheat on his wife, so it had to be worth it.

  This…

  Yeah, it was worth it.

  He yanked her hands behind her back and locked her wrists together with his bigger hand. It was sexy to watch her squirm as he repeatedly boned her.

  With each struggle, he drove himself into her, deeper and deeper, until he couldn’t go any further.

  She gave the term ‘balls deep’ a new meaning.

  “Beg me,” he said, threatening to pull out. If the minx wanted more, she’d beg. He wasn’t cumming in her unless she begged for it.

  “Take me, please!”

  “More.”

  “Jackson James, cum in me! I’m a slut, and I need it.”

  That was all he had to hear. He began moving again, this time using her arms to pull her back. She wanted this, and he’d give her something to think about for days.

  Weeks.

  Months.

  She’d never forget this.

  “Tell me you’ll meet me again this week,” he hissed, watching his wet dick slide in and out of her body. Then he’d slam into her, actually lifting her smaller body off the ground with the force of his dick.

  “Yes! I’ll do it! Leave your wife. Be mine.”

  He was on the edge.

  He was so close.

  “You have me, Jackson James. We can do this every day. You can have me anyway you want.”

  He craved that.

  God help him, but he wanted this dirty, sleazy hook up with some whore.

  He drove into her, and he could feel her quivering around him. She was close.

  Since she was a slut, some groupie, he didn’t care. Inst
ead, he was worried about his own orgasm. As she was about to go over, he slid out and found his way back into her ass. In one rough drive, he buried himself there and he came.

  He exploded and buried his load deep within her body.

  It was beyond awesome.

  As he finished, he fell to the bed.

  Neither moved.

  “You won’t tell my wife, right?” he asked, rolling toward her.

  She began laughing. The sound sent shivers across his body.

  “I am so telling your wife,” she teased, rolling into his body.

  “Oh no. What ever will I do?” he asked, giving her a kiss. When he pulled away, she was staring up at him with freckles and icy blue eyes.

  “You’re going to tell her you love her, and help her out of this red wig,” Elizabeth said, cuddling with Callen.

  He did as she asked.

  “Get it bronzed. That was the best one yet,” he offered.

  Elizabeth might just do that.

  Ethan was working late, Callen had been restless, and Wyler had offered to watch the kids.

  So of course, they were going to have some hot, kinky, clandestine rendezvous.

  That was totally their thing.

  She needed to woo her husband, so she sent him some sexy notes, picked him up in the bar, and let his imagination run wild. Boy, did her bestselling author have one hell of an imagination.

  He had her seven ways to Sunday, and from his erection, he could probably go more.

  Whatever he was having, she hoped they had an endless supply.

  “I love you.”

  “I love you, too, Callen James. While Jackson James is fun, I like being here with you.”

  “Did I hurt you?” he asked, as she played with one of his long braids.

  “Hurt me more. I loved it.”

  He snorted. “Slut.”

  “Cheating bastard.”

  His wife was a mess. Her skirt was up around her waist, she was hanging out of her shirt, and she had lipstick smeared across her cheek. Apparently, he was an animal.

  “Ethan is going to be sorry he had to miss this one,” he teased.

  Honestly, he was glad his brother was working. Callen liked having these moments alone with her. Their lives were both so hectic.

  This was his way of regrouping.

  “Yeah, he really is,” Elizabeth said, sitting up to pull off her clothes.