Ruthless Creatures (Queens & Monsters, #1)(49)

In reality, it’s the opposite.

Knowing I have just as much power over him in bed as he has over me makes me so excited, it only takes a few more jerks of my hips against his for me to go right over the edge with him.

I surge up against him, convulsing.

He drops his head to my breasts and pulls hard on a nipple with his hot mouth.

I feel him throbbing inside me, throbbing and pulsing as I clench around him. I scream out his name.

It goes on and on until we both collapse back against the mattress, panting.

When both of our bodies have stopped trembling and we’ve finally caught our breath, Kage slides out of me, rolls us to our sides, tucks me against him so he’s spooning me, and sighs a deep, satisfied sigh into my hair.

In a husky voice warmed by wonder, he says, “That filthy mouth.”

“Did you like it?”

“I’ve never come so hard in my life.”

My ego squeals in delight, but I try to play it cool, shrugging. “I learned from the best.”

His chuckle shakes us both. He presses a tender kiss to the nape of my neck. “You’ll be the death of me, beautiful girl.”

I smile. “Let’s hope not.”

That’s the last thing I remember before I drop into a sleep so deep, it’s practically a coma.

When I wake up in the morning, I’m alone.

Kage is gone.

And the cops are pounding on my front door.





19





Nat





When I open the door, I find two people standing on my front step. One of them is an older man in a police uniform. He’s paunchy and has one of those red noses that hints at years of heavy drinking. I don’t recognize him.

The other person is an attractive Black woman in her late forties wearing business casual dress: tan slacks and a navy jacket with a white button-up shirt beneath. She wears no makeup or jewelry, not even earrings. Her fingernails are unpolished. Her hair is pulled back in a simple bun. Despite her lack of ornamentation, she gives off an air of effortless glamour.

I recognize her well.

Her name’s Brown. Detective Doretta Brown, to be precise.

The woman who led the investigation into David’s disappearance and never let me forget for a second that she wasn’t ruling anyone out as a suspect.

Including me.

“Detective Brown. It’s been a while. Do you have news about David?”

Her eyes narrow slightly as she examines my face.

I bet she can smell the fear on me. The woman’s intelligence is frightening.

“We’re not here about that, Ms. Peterson.”

“No?”

She waits for me to say more, but my tongue is pinched firmly between my teeth. Kage’s warning about talking to the police is too fresh for me to start blabbering.

When I don’t break under her laser beam stare, she adds, “We’re here about the shooting at La Cantina last night.”

I don’t make a peep. I do, however, notice that there’s more than one law enforcement car parked at the curb out on the street.

Chris leans against his sheriff’s cruiser with his arms folded over his chest, staring hard at me over the tops of his mirrored sunglasses.

Shit.

Realizing that Detective Brown and I could stand there in silence forever, the paunchy officer makes a friendly suggestion. “Why don’t we go inside and talk?”

“No.”

He looks surprised by the forcefulness of my answer. Detective Brown, however, doesn’t.

“Is there something you’d like to tell us, Ms. Peterson?”

I bet those sharp ears of hers can hear the faint screams of my bowels, but I manage to keep a straight face when I answer. “Is there something you’d like to tell me?”

She shares a knowing glance with her colleague. He crosses his arms over his barrel chest and gives me a new look. One that says he didn’t take me seriously before, but he does now.

Obviously, Detective Brown has been telling him stories.

In her book, I might look innocent, but I’m not.

I wonder if she thinks I chopped David into tiny pieces and fed him into a wood chipper.

She says, “There was a shooting last night at La Cantina. Four people were killed.”

Pause. A daring stare. I say nothing. She continues.

“What can you tell us about it?”

“Am I under arrest?”

She seems taken aback by that, but quickly recovers her composure. “No.”

“Then perhaps you could direct your attention to the open investigation of my missing fiancé, and come back when you have something.”

I start to shut the door, but the other officer says, “We know you were at the restaurant last night.”

I stop, draw a steadying breath, and look at him. “I’m sorry, we haven’t been introduced. What’s your name?”

He unfolds his arms and casually rests a hand on the butt of the firearm strapped to the utility belt at his waist. I get the impression it’s a ploy to intimidate me. Instead, it royally pisses me off.

There’s nothing more I hate than a bully.

He points to the badge on his chest. “O’Donnell.”

Keeping my tone pleasant, I say, “Officer O’Donnell, take your colleague and get off my porch. Unless you have new information about the disappearance of my fiancé, I have nothing to say to either one of you.”