like he was holding himself back as he slid both hands up my right calf. His hands moved over the top of my thigh where the stocking stopped and the skin began. His cool fingertips tickled the soft skin hidden there. He ran his fingers along the edge of the stocking until he came to the garter. He unhooked the clasp and rolled each stocking slowly down my leg, making sure that his fingertips caressed the smooth flesh beneath the sheer fabric of my stocking.
I held my breath, filling my lungs with a burning need of anticipation. I moaned a soft protest in the back of my throat when he stopped touching me.
Patrick unstrapped the garter holding my stakes. He inspected it briefly, turning it over in his long elegant fingers with a curious grin before placing it with care on the nightstand beside my bed. He left my weapons within clear and easy reach.
Gooseflesh raced across the surface of my skin while I burned from the inside out. He found the zipper for my skirt along my hip and slowly drew it down in a slow agonizing zzzzzzzz. My womanhood tightened with each release of the zipper’s teeth.
Z ... Z ... Z ... Z ... Z.
My insides clenched, and my breath caught in my throat when the zipper reached its end. He pulled my skirt down over my backside and off my body, revealing the black lace Brazilian-cut panties I wore.
I inched upward, allowing him to slide the chiffon of my top through his fingers, then examine the material before eyeing me closely. I raised my arms willingly.
Patrick pulled my top up and over my head, grazing my arms with the same light caress of his cool fingers as he went. I dropped back on the bed in nothing but a black bra, black silk camisole, black panties, and garter belt.
I should have protested. I should have been fighting for my life, but the pounding of my heart and the sound of my pulse in my ears bade me wait patiently for his lead.
He leaned over, hovering just inches above me. His eyes bore into mine. I swore he could see inside of me. His lips were so close to mine I could almost feel them against my own, taste the salt of his kiss. All I had to do to close the distance, lift my head an inch off the pillow. I took my bottom lip between my teeth to keep from pressing my mouth against his.
I wanted to say something, anything, but the words stuck in my throat. He clasped my jaw in his hand and pulled away from me. There was a tiny smile of satisfaction on his face and a delighted glint in his eyes as he looked down at me.
“You, my dear,” he said, his voice just a bit shaky as he spoke. “You are more dangerous than I thought.”
I opened my eyes with a start. My heart raced and my legs were like jelly. I glanced at the clock.
5:27 a.m.
I still had two and a half hours before I had to meet Jade and Officer Hamlin. I flung the covers back and staggered to the bathroom. A cold shower. A cold shower would do me a world of good. “You’re in trouble, Dahlia Sabin,” I said to myself as I stepped into the stream of freezing cold water. “Real trouble.”
Chapter 7
God Damn, I was tired. Four hours of good sleep just wasn’t enough to face the cops first thing in the morning. Jade was way too chipper for 8:00 a.m., and the place was too noisy. The precinct was filled with people talking and laughing, while printers beeped and the phones rang constantly in a loud wail. The noise bounced off the walls and back again, bouncing around the room with the sense of organized chaos.
Officer Hamlin met us at the elevators, then escorted us through the maze of desks to a conference room at the end of the hall. One wall of the conference room was all glass, looking out over the sea of desks and people moving frantically from one point to the next.
Jade and I sat at one end of the long table. The uncomfortable steel chairs complete with army vinyl green cushions originally upholstered in the 1970’s that now had nonexistent padding. The cold metal beneath the cushion chilled my ass through
I held my breath, filling my lungs with a burning need of anticipation. I moaned a soft protest in the back of my throat when he stopped touching me.
Patrick unstrapped the garter holding my stakes. He inspected it briefly, turning it over in his long elegant fingers with a curious grin before placing it with care on the nightstand beside my bed. He left my weapons within clear and easy reach.
Gooseflesh raced across the surface of my skin while I burned from the inside out. He found the zipper for my skirt along my hip and slowly drew it down in a slow agonizing zzzzzzzz. My womanhood tightened with each release of the zipper’s teeth.
Z ... Z ... Z ... Z ... Z.
My insides clenched, and my breath caught in my throat when the zipper reached its end. He pulled my skirt down over my backside and off my body, revealing the black lace Brazilian-cut panties I wore.
I inched upward, allowing him to slide the chiffon of my top through his fingers, then examine the material before eyeing me closely. I raised my arms willingly.
Patrick pulled my top up and over my head, grazing my arms with the same light caress of his cool fingers as he went. I dropped back on the bed in nothing but a black bra, black silk camisole, black panties, and garter belt.
I should have protested. I should have been fighting for my life, but the pounding of my heart and the sound of my pulse in my ears bade me wait patiently for his lead.
He leaned over, hovering just inches above me. His eyes bore into mine. I swore he could see inside of me. His lips were so close to mine I could almost feel them against my own, taste the salt of his kiss. All I had to do to close the distance, lift my head an inch off the pillow. I took my bottom lip between my teeth to keep from pressing my mouth against his.
I wanted to say something, anything, but the words stuck in my throat. He clasped my jaw in his hand and pulled away from me. There was a tiny smile of satisfaction on his face and a delighted glint in his eyes as he looked down at me.
“You, my dear,” he said, his voice just a bit shaky as he spoke. “You are more dangerous than I thought.”
I opened my eyes with a start. My heart raced and my legs were like jelly. I glanced at the clock.
5:27 a.m.
I still had two and a half hours before I had to meet Jade and Officer Hamlin. I flung the covers back and staggered to the bathroom. A cold shower. A cold shower would do me a world of good. “You’re in trouble, Dahlia Sabin,” I said to myself as I stepped into the stream of freezing cold water. “Real trouble.”
Chapter 7
God Damn, I was tired. Four hours of good sleep just wasn’t enough to face the cops first thing in the morning. Jade was way too chipper for 8:00 a.m., and the place was too noisy. The precinct was filled with people talking and laughing, while printers beeped and the phones rang constantly in a loud wail. The noise bounced off the walls and back again, bouncing around the room with the sense of organized chaos.
Officer Hamlin met us at the elevators, then escorted us through the maze of desks to a conference room at the end of the hall. One wall of the conference room was all glass, looking out over the sea of desks and people moving frantically from one point to the next.
Jade and I sat at one end of the long table. The uncomfortable steel chairs complete with army vinyl green cushions originally upholstered in the 1970’s that now had nonexistent padding. The cold metal beneath the cushion chilled my ass through
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