I See You (Criminal Profiler, #2)(85)

“So do results.” She cupped her breasts and knew he liked watching, that this deliberately slow attack on her senses was getting harder for him to maintain.

She opened her legs and pressed her mound against his erection, and when she saw the slight glimmer in his gaze darkening, she knew the time for teasing had ended. He reached for his erection and pressed it to her moist center.

He pushed into her body with a hard thrust. The invasion sent a wave of sensations rushing up through her like a crashing wave.

He paused. “You like that?”

“Yes.” A blush warmed her cheeks. She felt so alive. “I like it very much.”

He covered her body with his, moving in and out with hard, deep thrusts as he kissed her fully on the lips. Her body would take all of him. Her breathing quickened, and she could feel herself rushing to the edge. She was within seconds of release when he slowed his pace and suckled her nipple. She grew wetter.

His fingers moved in slow, steady circles. Reading the nuances of her tense muscles, he seemed to sense what brought her closer to orgasm and what delayed it. And every time she thought she would tumble, he stopped, kissed her, and stole her breath. Anticipation swirled around her as she anxiously waited for him to begin again.

He ran moist fingertips over her thigh. “Such beautiful legs. I’ve admired those legs since the first day I saw you.”

“Did you?”

“You were wearing black heels during that first class you taught at the bureau.”

Were they really talking about her shoes right now? “I always wear black heels.”

“I know. By my guess, you have at least three different pairs.”

Zoe lost count of how long he teased her, but he knew intimately her rhythms. When she really thought she would go mad with wanting, he hastened his tempo. This time when the edge came, they both plummeted over it. Delightful spasms rippled over her. He drove into her, moaning with desire. She gripped his arms and pressed her pelvis upward.

Zoe opened her eyes and locked on Vaughan’s gaze. For the first time, she saw him and not Jeff. In her mind, a distant door closed, and she did not race to reopen it. But this time, the sweetness outpaced the bitterness.



When Zoe awoke, the night sky was blanketed with stars. Moonlight bathed the row of houses across the street. She turned to her right.

She reached for her cell and saw that it was 4:26 a.m. Too early to get up, and yet her mind was fully awake and her body growing more restless by the second.

The sound of footsteps downstairs had her reaching for her robe and her gun. As she slid on the terry cloth and cinched the waist tight, she tiptoed across the room, taking inventory as she moved. All of Vaughan’s clothes were gone.

At the top of the stairs, she saw the soft glow of a light that appeared to be coming from the kitchen. Barefoot, she tightened her grip on her weapon. She stepped over the third step from the bottom to avoid its creak.

As she crossed through the living room, she spotted Vaughan’s jacket and caught the first whiff of coffee in the kitchen.

She lowered her weapon and stepped into the kitchen to find Vaughan sitting at her small kitchen table. He was reading Silas Marner.

“I just made a pot,” he said.

She set her weapon on the counter, removed a bone china cup from the cabinet, and filled it with coffee. “You will never get back to sleep if you drink coffee this early.”

“I never would have gotten back to sleep either way.” He closed his book. “I don’t sleep much. Haven’t since Nate was born.”

She wrapped her fingers around the cup, savoring the warmth. “I love to sleep. But I can’t remember the last time I slept late.”

Zoe sat across from him, sipped her coffee, and crossed her legs, knowing the folds of the robe would slip away.

He dropped his gaze to her leg and smoothed his hand over her thigh and then over the knee that still bore the scar of her surgery. He traced his finger over the light-pink semicircle. “Does it ever bother you?” he asked.

“Not really. Distance running is a thing of the past, and I can predict rainy days before they happen. I’ve gotten used to the minor aches and pains.”

He nodded toward the stack of photos she had pulled off the walls barely two days ago. “I’m assuming he was your husband.”

“Jeff. He was one hell of a cop. And an all-around good guy. He was healthy as a horse and had finished a marathon three days before he died. They tell me he was at the courthouse to get a search warrant when the first headache brought him to his knees. We’d just spoken, and he had said he was on the way to our favorite restaurant.” She set her cup down with deliberate care. “I’d been waiting at the restaurant for thirty minutes when his captain called me.”

“I’m sorry.” He kept his hand on her knee.

She pushed away the images of that restaurant and the days and years that followed. “Life isn’t always a party. I’m guessing you’re not a single parent by choice.”

“Divorce. It was better for everyone, but I know it hurt Nate.”

“How old was he when you and your wife divorced?”

“Five. Motherhood and being a cop’s wife were too much for her.”

“The principal at the school mentioned that she died.”

“Long after the divorce. I was sorry for Nate,” he said. “Despite it all, she was his mother.”