Talking With The Dead Part 7

"You already knew that," Daisy said, her voice trembling with rage.

Michael glanced at her as he reached out and gently tugged the flyer from her. "I suspected it," he said, stepping to the side. She frowned at him but came in, crossing her arms over her chest. Turning around, she watched him while he closed the door.

Kerri. Pretty name. "She's worried about her mom." Michael closed his eyes. "She wants her mom to know what happened. She just wanted to go to a play." He crumpled the flyer in his fist, clenching his jaw. Impotent fury ate at him. He wanted to hit something. Anything. But instead of pounding on something with his fists, he dropped down onto the bed and stared at the crumpled flyer. "All she wanted to do was see a play."

"I can't say anything to her mom until I find her," Daisy said quietly. "n.o.body has even seen her. If I say something now, without proof-that would be cruel, Michael."

"I know. Daisy, you don't seem to understand-I've been doing this a long time." Too long...

"You've been doing this too long."

His eyes flew up to meet hers and an unwitting smile curled his lips. He watched as she moved forward and knelt down in front of him. "This hurts you," she whispered, staring up at him. "I'm sorry. I wish I didn't need you to help me."

Michael reached out and traced his fingers along the curve of her cheek. "This is what I do, ma'am," he drawled. "Nothing to apologize about." Dropping his gaze to her mouth, he finally gave into the urge that had been driving him nuts ever since he'd seen her. Threading his hand through her hair, he drew her a little closer, slowly, giving her the chance to pull away.

Her mouth felt soft and she tasted like warm honey. He traced the seam of her lips with his tongue and her lips opened under his. With a groan, he eased off the edge of the bed and wrapped his arms around her, pressing his hands against her back. Her b.r.e.a.s.t.s flattened against his chest as he eased her up against him. Michael skimmed his fingers up her back so he could fist a hand in her hair. Pulling back, he sc.r.a.ped his teeth over the curve of her neck. "You taste good," he muttered huskily.

He could feel her heart slamming against his. She felt so d.a.m.ned alive-need fogged his brain and he couldn't think beyond anything but feeling that life, tasting it, bathing himself in it.

Reaching up, he grabbed the neckline of her s.h.i.+rt and jerked. b.u.t.tons popped and went flying. Shoving the edges of the s.h.i.+rt open, he stared down at the pale flesh of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s rising over the red silk cups of her bra.

He tumbled her down onto her back and buried his face against her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. The soft scents of vanilla and lavender lingered there and the warm, sweet scent filled his head.

"Michael..." Her voice was a soft hungry little whimper that made his blood burn even hotter.

The leather of her gun harness got in the way. With quick, impatient jerks of his hands, he unbuckled it and shoved it away before reaching below her to unfasten her bra. He tossed that aside and sat back on his heels to stare down at her. Her nipples were rosy pink-hard as ice.

His mouth watered and he hunkered down over her. Michael slid his hands under her and lifted her torso up to meet his mouth so that he could catch one plump nipple in his mouth. The other one, he caught with his thumb and forefinger, rolling it back and forth, pinching it lightly. She cried out sharply, her hands coming up to cup his shoulders. Her nails dug into his shoulders and she arched against him.

The heat of her was driving him mad. Everything about her felt warm, alive... Pulling back, he sucked air into starving lungs while he stared into her eyes. The soft golden-green eyes looked as hungry as he felt. "I want you," he muttered hoa.r.s.ely. "So much I hurt with it. If you can't do this, tell me now, while I can still stop."

His eyes looked so d.a.m.ned tortured, Daisy thought. How in the h.e.l.l had this happened? She'd come here because of a lost child-one she knew was dead. All she had was his word. She barely knew the man, but his eyes didn't lie. She'd come here because she had a job to do. How had she ended up half naked on the floor?

Daisy wasn't quite sure. But her belly was a hot, molten ma.s.s of need and she wanted him so bad, she hurt from it. She'd been too d.a.m.ned lonely for too d.a.m.ned long, and looking in his eyes did something to soothe that ache. Something that she couldn't even begin to describe.

She didn't need to, either.

Daisy didn't need excuses, reasons, anything. What she needed was him. Sleep hadn't done anything to ease the ache and the self-induced o.r.g.a.s.m hadn't done a d.a.m.n thing. This would.

Feeling his heat and strength against her while he pumped in and out, that would ease the ache. "I don't want you to stop," she murmured as she slid her arms up and wrapped them around his neck. Daisy drew him down against her, whimpering softly as the warm weight of his body crushed her into the floor.

He swore roughly and pulled away from her, crouching on his knees as he tore at her jeans. His hands were clumsy with need and there was a desperate look in his eyes. Kicking her tennis shoes away, she tried to help him but he just batted her hands away. Arching a brow at him, she rose on her elbows and smiled at him. "Demanding."

"Not usually," he mumbled. He slid her a look under his lashes and her mouth went dry. "I can't remember ever wanting a woman the way I want you, though."

Michael continued to hold her gaze with his as he stripped her jeans away, keeping the flat of his hands pressed against her thighs and just using the downward stroke of his hands to take the st.u.r.dy cloth down. She felt a hot flush rise to her cheeks as his eyes moved down, locking on her naked body with focused intent. "You're not wearing any underwear."

She smiled, shrugging a little. "Habit-I never wear panties with jeans."

A wolfish smile lit his features and his eyes once more met hers. She felt the heat from that look and it d.a.m.ned near singed her. It also hit her in the heart like a sucker punch-for once, that d.a.m.nable grim look was gone from his face. "You shouldn't have told me that. I'll never be able to think straight around you again," he said, shaking his head slightly.

Flas.h.i.+ng him a wide grin, she winked. "Oh, goodie..." Reaching down, she traced her fingers over his thigh. "You're overdressed, you know."

His lips brushed over hers. "Maybe I am." She watched as he rose and when he stepped away, she rolled over onto her belly to watch him as he walked across the room. Light filtered in through the gap in the curtains from the bathroom, but that was all. She'd like more light, wanted a room full of bright suns.h.i.+ne so she could sit down and stare at him at her leisure.

That body of his was amazing. His shoulders were wide and powerful, his chest tapering down into a flat belly and narrow hips. As he reached into the closet, she rose onto her elbow and admired the play of muscles in his back and arms. h.e.l.l, she knew women who loved to take trips into town and throw money away at strip joints. They were wasted-not one of them had a d.a.m.n thing on Michael O'Rourke.

He wasn't doing a thing except rooting through a duffle bag, and he was wearing a worn out pair of jeans. When he pulled out a cellophane wrapped condom, she arched a brow and drawled, "I have to say, I'm d.a.m.ned glad to see you carry it in there, and not your wallet. I've never been impressed with men who carry them in their wallet."

Michael just looked at her, that small smile of his on his mouth. He crossed back to her and held out his hand, waiting for her to rise and take it.

She did and then her heart melted as he pulled her against him and just held her for a minute. You're in trouble, Dasynda! her brain screamed. Big major trouble! He'll leave when his job here is done.

She knew that. She also knew nothing had ever felt quite as right as his arms around her. Snuggling against him, she murmured, "You're still over dressed."

Daisy s.h.i.+vered as one big warm hand slid up her back, cupping the back of her head and then tangling in her hair before arching her head back. His mouth covered hers and she opened her lips, groaning as he kissed her deeply. He backed her up against the bed-she felt the edge of it against her legs just a moment before he urged her backward, covering her body with his.

He s.h.i.+fted his weight to keep from crus.h.i.+ng her and she worked her hand between them, tugging at the b.u.t.ton of his jeans, then easing the zipper down. She felt his groan as she slid her fingers inside his shorts, closing her fingers around him. He felt hard and smooth under her fingers, silk and steel. An ache pulsed through her womb and she rocked against him. Daisy managed to get in one quick, caressing stroke before he tore away and shoved his jeans down.

"You're h.e.l.l on my mental state," he muttered shortly, glaring at her as he kicked his jeans away.

Daisy pushed up on her elbow, staring at him with a smile. Cellophane ripped and she watched him as he rolled the rubber down his c.o.c.k before she looked at him with a wide grin. "You know, I think I'm actually probably really good on your mental state," she murmured.

Her grin faded away as he crushed her into the mattress. She sucked her breath as he pushed one knee between her legs, then wedged his hips between her thighs. Dark midnight eyes stared into hers as he pressed against her. Her lashes fluttered closed and he murmured, "No. Don't close your eyes-I want to see you."

Daisy felt exposed under that look. Foolish-she was naked in his arms, and he was pus.h.i.+ng inside of her, but it was that watchful gaze that made her feel vulnerable. Too vulnerable, too exposed and she didn't like it. But she did want to see him. Dragging her lids back up, she stared at him as he slowly started to sink inside her.

The stretching sensation was unbearable. Catching her lower lip between her teeth, she arched up against him as he pushed inside her. He lowered his head, pressing a soothing kiss against her mouth. Skimming one hand down her side, he slid it under her hip, lifting her up against him.

Michael held her gaze with his as he pulled out. She sucked air in raggedly, trying to make her tense body relax. A lazy smile curved his mouth as he stretched out atop her, taking her hands in his, gently bringing them up by her head. The head of his c.o.c.k was still inside her s.e.x, throbbing, teasing the sensitive tissues there. He rotated his hips a little with his next stroke and Daisy gasped. He did it again and again, teasing her c.l.i.t. "Shhhh...that's it," he muttered against her lips. "Relax."

Relax-h.e.l.l, no. "I can't relax," she muttered. She arched up against him, taking too much in, too fast. She hissed and instinctively clenched her thighs.

s.h.i.+fting against her, he cradled her head in his hands, lowering his head and taking her mouth. He also started to rock against her. Slow, gentle rolling motions that did little more than stroke his body against her c.l.i.t. "Relax," he murmured again. He bit her lower lip gently and then sucked on it. One big hand gripped her hips, holding her still as he started to rotate his hips against her once more.

Heat built inside her like a volcano, escalating with each slow, teasing stroke. The pain eased a little more. Daisy wrapped her arms around his torso, raking her nails down his sides, arching against him, trying to rock her hips up and take him deeper inside. Michael just laughed softly, continuing those slow, gentle thrusts.

Little mini shocks started to quake in her belly, rippling through her s.e.x. Daisy hooked her heels around him, trying to ride the thick ridge of flesh harder. As he sank just a little deeper, she moaned in satisfaction. A deep rumbling laugh escaped Michael and then he rose up on his hands.

The glittering look in his eyes was all the warning she had.

He took her thighs in his hands, draping them over his arms, then he started shafting her, hard, deep strokes. The bed started to shake beneath them. Daisy felt her heart slam into her throat as he rode her. Dear heaven, he was so d.a.m.ned deep-each stroke rocked her to the very core.

Staring up at him, eyes wide, she felt icy hot chills skittering all through her. Her skin felt too hot, too tight, too itchy. She couldn't breathe, couldn't see-the iron-hard thickness of his c.o.c.k burned inside her, throbbing, aching. The rest of the world faded away and all she knew was his body moving over hers, his c.o.c.k shuttling back and forth inside her s.e.x. So hot, so deep, so tight.

Too hot. Too deep-too much, too much... "Stop," she gasped out, curling her hands over his shoulders. She pressed the heels of her hands against him but she wasn't sure if she wanted to push him away or pull him closer.

"Stop?" he whispered, sliding his hand over one sweat slicked thigh, cupping the curve of her rump in his hand. "Why?"

Staring blindly up at him, she said, "I can't...I can't..."

He just smiled. Lowering his head, he kissed her just below her ear and then he murmured, "You can." He reached between them and touched her c.l.i.t. That one light touch did it. The o.r.g.a.s.m ripped through her with an intensity that left her screaming breathlessly. And Michael continued to thrust inside her. Even as she came moaning back down to earth, he pumped inside, lowering his head to suckle on her nipples, first one and then the other.

"You still think you can't?" he whispered when she had her breath back.

"Huh?" she whimpered, staring up at him with blind eyes. Hunger and need left her uncomprehending. Her s.e.x clutched greedily around his c.o.c.k as he thrust against her. She clung to his arms, trying to make sense of his words.

He laughed, lowering his head to kiss her roughly.

Gathering her up against him, Michael buried his face against her neck. With short, deep thrusts, he rode her. Daisy rocked up to meet him, another climax building low in her belly even though she was still reeling from the first one. When he raked her neck with his teeth, she moaned raggedly. The brush of his fingers down her arm was like live electricity touching her skin.

The pounding of his hips against her grew more desperate-he s.h.i.+fted against her, slamming his hands down into the mattress by her head, rising up over her. With glittering eyes, Mike stared down at her, watching her so closely, staring at her so intently.

Daisy reached up, closing her hands over his biceps, digging her nails into the taut skin there as she lifted her hips up. The thick, steely flesh of his c.o.c.k stroked over the sensitive, slick tissues of her s.e.x-her heart slammed against her ribs while the heat built inside her, stretching her skin, threatening to spill out.

"Come for me," he whispered harshly, sliding his hand down her thigh and catching her knee, lifting it up over his hip. "Come for me, Daisy..."

As he pushed into her one more time, she did, clamping down around him and climaxing with a ragged scream. Her nails raked down his flesh, and she writhed under him, bucking in his arms.

He throbbed inside her-she felt the rhythmic jerking sensations of his c.o.c.k. Moaning, her hands slid limply from his arms and he sank down against her, his head resting between her b.r.e.a.s.t.s.

Once she was able to breathe again, she whispered weakly, "How's your state of mind now?"

"I dunno," he murmured. "Maybe we should do that again and then see what happens."

"Again just might kill me," Daisy said, snickering.

"Ummm. Me, too. h.e.l.l of a way to go." Michael had to admit, he felt a h.e.l.l of a lot better than he had been in a very long time. He could feel the furious pounding of her heart against his cheek, and the smell of hot woman filled his head.

The hot, snug silk of her s.e.x still gloved his c.o.c.k and he groaned as the tissues convulsed around him. "Gotta tell ya. I feel pretty d.a.m.ned good right now," he muttered. Sliding his hand up her side, he cupped her breast in his hand, rolling her nipple in his hand and watching it pucker.

She made a sound, that half moan, half laugh. "Don't do that-I'm practically dead already."

"I'm telling you-it wouldn't be a bad way to go." Her nipple was pink and tight and if he could just manage to move, he wanted to lick it again and taste her. Mike figured he could spend the next fifty years tasting her and he still wouldn't be satisfied. Bad. This is bad.

Daisy sighed. "I'd agree-but I've got a case to solve before I can think about dying."

"Yeah, you do. We do. She's mine-I have to help you finish this." He stared into her eyes and murmured, "I hope you understand."

A gentle smile curved her lips. "I do. And I have to tell you, I'm glad."

Working his arms around her, he rolled onto his back, bringing her with him. She sprawled on top of him and lifted up on her elbow, staring down at him. "This isn't the best way for you to spend your afternoon," he said. Her soft hazel eyes looked entirely too serious now.

She smiled a little. "Hey, I'm ent.i.tled to a lunch break." The smile faded. "I've got to find this girl, Michael. If we go around when I get off of work, do you think you might... h.e.l.l, how does it work?"

He reached up, pus.h.i.+ng a silken lock of golden hair behind her ear. "Hard to explain that part. Kind of like a radio signal, sometimes. Best way to explain it. Sometimes I pick things up. Sometimes I don't. And yes. We can go whenever you're ready to."

She lifted a brow. "Ready? That will be exactly never. How can you be ready..." Daisy closed her eyes. "She was just a baby."

"I know. I wish I could make this easier. But nothing will." Michael held still as she lowered her head and pressed her lips to his.

"I need to do it now. But I'd have a hard time explaining it. I've got a meeting at one and five hundred other things I'm supposed to do before quitting time. Bureaucratic bulls.h.i.+t. I've got a killer to catch and I'm attending a committee meeting to discuss the need for a new stoplight."

"Hey, a town this small, isn't a new stoplight like a big step?" Mike teased.

It worked. A faint smile tipped up the corners of her mouth. "Yeah. A very big step." She sighed and cuddled against his chest. "You know, it's going to be a h.e.l.l of a lot harder to concentrate on any of it now."

Ten minutes later, he watched as she climbed out of the shower, long streamers of dark brown hair dripping water down her sleek body. "Aren't you worried that people saw you come in here?" he asked, propping his shoulder against the door.

"I'm sure fifteen people saw me come in here. And I'm equally sure most of them have already called the majority of their friends and told them I'm here. So either you're my prime suspect, or we're having a torrid affair," Daisy said with a wry smile. "Either one is much more believable than the truth." Her voice broke off and she flashed him a wicked grin. "Well, I guess the torrid affair could be the truth now. But I can't exactly make it public knowledge that you're some sort of psychic bloodhound, can I?"

Michael ran his tongue along the surface of his teeth, watching as she started to dry off. "You aren't real big on beating around the bush, are you?"

She shrugged. "No. Wastes time." Slowly, she straightened, hooking the towel around her neck. "You know, I can't say I've had a lot of torrid affairs. Does one encounter count?"

Arching a brow at her, he said, "I'm not sure."

The blood drained out of his head, pooling in his groin as she moved up and pressed her nude body against him, wrapping her arms around him. "Well, I think maybe we might want to try for a repeat. If you're interested. That way, we can at least give truth to the torrid affair thing."

Chuckling, he trailed his fingers down her spine, he said, "Interested?" Nudging his c.o.c.k against her belly, he asked, "What do you think? Am I interested?"

She hummed softly in her throat. "I think that's a yes."

Chapter Five.

The darkness had been hanging over his head all afternoon, like a d.a.m.ned cloud.

Ever since Daisy had left.

When the phone rang, he answered it with a short, "Yeah?" He knew he sounded p.i.s.sed, but he couldn't help it. Even the sound of Daisy's voice didn't help.

"Hey. You okay?"

Michael tried to force himself to sound a little less distant as he responded, "Sorry, Daisy. Just feeling-odd. Are we ready?"

"Yes. I'm out front." Her voice was neutral, not quite mad, but...cautious.

h.e.l.l, he couldn't blame her. A few hours ago they'd been in bed together and he answered the phone sounding like a bear with a hangover. He couldn't help it, though. Something was wrong. It hung in the air, a storm waiting to break.

Grabbing his jacket, Michael started to head out of the room, but then he turned back. His bag was in the closet. His gun was in it. Slowly, he crossed over to it, taking the bag down and withdrawing the Glock and the holster. He slid the holster on and buckled it into place, staring stonily into the distance.

"Things are getting ready to go down, brother."