My Killer Vacation — Chapter 12

CHAPTER 12

Myles

knew Taylor had something up her sleeve.I Not in my wildest imagination did I think it was this.

Across the street from the Sweet Nothings—the most discreet sex toy shop I’ve ever seen in my life—I sit on my bike in the shadows, watching as she casually strolls past the entrance, waiting until she’s alone on the sidewalk, passersby having ducked into the tavern next door. Then she backs up one step at a time, throwing herself into the shop in a blur.

Just like that, she’s in a sex toy boutique.You’ve got to

be joking.

Am I pissed? Hell yeah, I’m pissed.

The fact that she would put herself at risk by coming out at night without me means my skin is roughly the temperature of the sun. At least she brought Jude with her.

Initially, that gave mesome form of relief. But after they

parked in the municipal parking lot, they parted ways on the other side of the road. Jude vanished into the tavern and I can see through the window that some fella has already bought him a drink. He’s distracted. Who is with Taylor now?No one, that’s who. And far stranger things have happened than a woman being assaulted or abducted

in public. Goddammit.

I get off my bike and start to pace.

It takes me about fifteen seconds to admit that Taylor’s recklessness is only partially to blame for my fevered skin.

My sweaty palms and jumpiness.

She wants—needs—an orgasm so bad, she’s risking her

neck for it.

And I’m to blame.

That isn’t arrogance talking, although, sue me if it is.

I’ve brought her to the brink of climaxing twice without delivering. Thanks to a rogue buoy. Thanks to Jude getting stung by a jellyfish. Sure. But that doesn’t make the facts sit any better. Not at all. She’s horny, I’m the cause, and she’s about to get the relief she needs from somewhere else.

That’s not just a bitter pill to swallow, the damn thing is

stuck in my throat.

Yeah.

Yeah, I don’t think I’m capable of letting this happen. I’m just not. I’m sure this makes me an intrusive bastard, but I can’t fucking stand the idea of her sailing over the edge with some piece of silicone when I’m the one who drove her there. Created the need in the first place. Until now, I was using the fact that we haven’t had sex to console myself, as

agonizing as it has been to maintain that boundary—one that I’ve almost crossed twice now. As long as we don’t have sex, I’m focused. As long as I’m not sleeping with her, I can maintain my professionalism and objectivity. Right?

Yeah.

Only…Taylor’s pleasure coming from anywhere but me makes me want to kick a hole through the plate glass window advertising lingerie, massagers and aromatherapy in gold script. What is she picking out in there? Will I be able to stand by while she drives home with her purchase

and uses it to get herself off?

Nope.

No way in hell.

“Son of a bitch,” I mutter, preparing to stride across the side street.

Before I get the chance, she exits the shop, a small purple bag clutched to her chest. Instinct has me scanning the immediate area for any kind of threat. By the time I’m done, she’s already walking at a fast clip toward the lot where she parked. Alone. At night. In a strange town.

Holding a bag from a sex toy shop. What the hell is in that bag?

Telling myself it’s none of my business doesn’t help.

Nothing short of giving her the orgasm myself is going to help—that’s the truth. And with that very ill-advised, very tempting thought circling my mind, I follow her into the parking lot. Just to make sure she’s safe. That’s what I tell myself. I’m just going to make sure she gets to the car without incident, but when she turns around and spots me, eyes widening, quickly attempting to hide the bag behind

her back, this dangerous combination of affection and lust propels me forward, closer, closer until we’re toe to toe.

Until her back is pressed up against the side of the car.

“Hey Taylor,” I say, planting my hands on the roof of her car.

“H-hey.” Oh Jesus, she’s so excited about whatever she just bought, her pupils are the size of hockey pucks. “What

are you…are y-you following me?”

“I’m protecting you.”

“Oh, right.” She wets her lips and my blood rushes south, stiffening my dick right up. “H-how long would you say you’ve been protecting me? Ten minutes? Two?”

“Long enough to know it’s not sunscreen in that bag.”

“Maybe it’s tampons,” she says quickly. “Very private.

For my eyes only.”

“I’m not falling for that.”

“You’re not?”

“No.”

“Oh.” She is still trying to keep the bag stuffed behind her back. “Well, I was just going to leave this in the car and go get Jude. I don’t want to walk into the bar with… whatever it is.”

I bring our mouths closer and her breathing accelerates.

“What is it?”

“None of your business, Myles.”

My lips brush sideways across hers, making her eyelids droop. “Your unsatisfied pussy is my business and we both know it, Taylor. We’ve been edging each other for days.”

She shudders. “Can you please stop talking to me like that?”

“Why? You like it too much?”

“Yes,” she whispers.

“Give me the bag.”

“What are you going to do with it?”

“It depends what’s inside.”

“Just some lavender oil.”

“And?”

She squeezes her eyes shut. “Something called a G-spot Thumper.”

“Really.” I drop my right hand and I bring it up between her thighs, gripping her pussy tight beneath her skirt.

Yeah. No fucking way something called a G-spot Thumper is taking the honor of making her come away from me.

“What about your clit?”

“It does that, too,” she whispers in a rush, her free hand curling in the front of my T-shirt. “There’s a nubby thing.”

“Good. Give me the bag, sweetheart.”

She wedges it in between us, eyes unfocused.

After one more slow rub of her flesh through her dampening panties, I take the bag. Toss the tiny bottle of oil onto the roof of the car. “We won’t need that.”

“But—”

I rip the vibrator package open with my teeth.

“Oh boy. Look at you. Um…” A dizzy headshake. “The salesgirl said it might be partially charged, but she wasn’t sure…” I press the button and it fires to life. “Oh,” she rasps, mesmerized by the vibrating purple toy. “There it goes.”

I work her skirt up to her waist, leaving it loosely bunched there. God almighty, those thighs. That ripe-

looking mound in between them.Mine. For right now. “I shouldn’t be doing this, Taylor.”

“I know,” she says breathlessly. “I’m distracting you from the investigation.”

“An investigation that you’re a part of, whether we like it

or not.”

“Uh-huh.”

Stop talking. Now. You say too much to this woman. “But that way you kiss me? Like you’re curious and overwhelmed at the same time? The perfect rhythm of your hips when you rubbed on my cock this morning, begging to get banged. And Christ, the way you sucked me off…” I spit on the vibrator and shove it into her sunshine yellow underwear, grinding the vibration right where she needs it, listening to her stuttered moan, memorizing the shock of pleasure that transforms her expression. “I already know you’d be the best fuck I’d ever had by a million miles and that’s making it very hard to stay out of these panties,

Taylor, you understand me?”

“Yes yes yes.”

“I’m going to handle this mean little throb, because it’s all for me, isn’t it?” She nods unevenly, and gratification like I’ve never known spreads inside me like spilled paint on a canvas. Responsibility, possessiveness. Shit I never expected to feel in my lifetime. “We’re going to take care of this ache and get back to work, you hear me?”

“Loud and clear,” she says in a rush.

“You tell me when you’re ready to have it inside of you.”

“Now. I’m…I’m…”

I drag a finger through her slit, coming out of it soaked.

“A wet little thing. Aren’t you?”

She’s already starting to shake. Jesus. Jesus, she’s trembling. Lips parted. Eyes glassy, thighs restless, back arched. It’s taking every iota of willpower not to give her this cock up against the side of the car, but there is an unseen collar around my neck, put there in the name of self-preservation. If I have sex with this woman, if I indulge us without rules or boundaries, there will be no turning back. Somehow I know that with total certainty. I won’t be able to stay away when this is all over. Hell, I can barely keep away now. And if something happened to her…if I got distracted and missed something like last time… I kiss her, hard, refusing to think about it. Kiss her so long and with so much hunger that we’re both sucking in oxygen by the time we come up for air.

“Myles,” she whimpers against my mouth—and I know exactly what she’s asking for. So I look her in the eye and pump the curved, spit-slicked end of the vibrator into her pussy, slowly, slowly, until my knuckles meet her damp lips and she’s sobbing. “Please, please,” she chants. “Please.”

Goddamn. It’s happening again. Just like in that cave, just like in that bedroom before the buoy crashed in, I’m losing myself. I’m sinking into her so completely, nothing else matters. There’s no parking lot, no street, no crime to solve. If that isn’t a warning signal, I don’t know what is, but I can’t keep my mouth from raking over her soft one, capturing her whimpers and twining our tongues together in a way that says,yeah, that’s right, I’ll fuck you so nasty, you’ll never be the same. Can’t stop myself from pressing

that vibrating nub to her clit and loving the way she jerks between me and the car, her thighs hot and restless around my hand.

And we’re in this other place right now, this place with no pretenses, so I open my mouth and everything I’ve been keeping trapped in my head comes pouring out.

“You’re so beautiful, sweetheart.” Keeping her clit stimulated, I work the thick curve in and out of her wet entrance. Nice and slow and deep, deep, deep, pressing when I can’t go any further. Grinding. Listening to her gasp and beg for more. “Your eyes. Your smile. Yeah, you’ve got me dying over those, then you throw in that ass.God. I’d kill to hit this from the back. Hell if you don’t move in a way that says you’re ripe and tight where it counts.”

“Oh my God, stop. Stop. No, don’t stop. Don’t stop.” Her mouth is on mine, hungry, tongue kinky, hand gripping my shoulders as if she’d like to climb me and never come down. Not sure I would let her, either. “Pretend,” she cries into our next kiss. “Pretend it’s you.”

Just when I think she’s done blowing my mind.

Later, later maybe I’ll stare into space and marvel over this second grade teacher asking me to play-fuck her with a vibrator, but right now? Ah Jesus, all I can do is comply. I position the toy in front of my bulging zipper, flatten her upper half against the car and I fuck her with the vibrating silicone. As if it’s attached to me. I’m painfully aware that it’s not, but her enjoyment eclipses my agony. Her ass is squeaking ever-so-slightly up and down the car door, my hips thrusting between her semi-spread legs, vibrator sinking in and out, and she’s biting on that bottom lip, tits

puffing up and down, because here it comes, any second now she’s going to get swallowed by an orgasm and I get to watch. Me. I have that privilege.

“Every time you use this thing, remember that my cock is bigger,” I growl against her ear. “And I’m somewhere out there, thinking of you while I stroke it.”

God help me. I’m not even inside of her, but I swear I feel her clench on the heels of those words. Her fingertips tear at the front of my shirt and she pants, whines my name, rolls her hips and works out the orgasm, her pleasure slipping down the vibrator and pooling in my palm. Coating my fingers. She rides the thrusting silicone, her thighs pulsing around my working hand, her tits swelling in the neckline of her dress and I just marvel. I damn well marvel.

“Masterpiece,” I rasp, kissing her, muffling her cries.

“You little fucking masterpiece.”

“Too much!” she screams into my mouth after a few more seconds and I carefully tug the smooth curve from inside of her, slamming it down on the roof of the car and kissing her like my life depends on it, fingers tunneling into her hair. My cock is swollen and pounding in my jeans.

She’s wet. She’s kissing me back, still horny. I could have her right here, right now. Next time she comes, I’d feel that cinch of her pussy around me and it would be heaven. I can finally get rid of this pain in my balls that I haven’t been able to bring myself to handle alone because everything

inside has her fucking name on it—

There is a loud slam behind me.

My life flashes in front of my eyes.

Mentally, I bolt out of the fog and assess the threat, gun pulled from the small of my back. Weapon pointed at the ground, I back Taylor between me and the car, looking for the source of the noise. And I realize with a sweep of relief that it’s the door of the tavern. A group of rowdy young people are stumbling out of the bar, knocking the door into the side of the building in their exuberance. My adrenaline takes a nosedive and I’m suddenly covered in cold sweat.

She’s saying something to me, but I can’t hear her over the ringing in my ears. Anything could have happened while I was kissing her with my back turned.Anything. Am I out of my mind to put her at risk like that? I’m not fit to be a detective. I’m not cut out for this. If I manage to solve this case and leave without anyone getting hurt, it’ll be a miracle.

“Get in the car,” I say to her, my voice like gravel. “Call your brother and tell him you’re waiting. Both of you need

to get home.”

“Myles—”

“Please, Taylor. Just do it.”

She looks like she wants to argue, but climbs into the driver’s side, instead. Makes the call to Jude. A minute later, her brother comes out of the bar humming and I stride past him without saying a word, even when he calls my name.

I need to get my head back on straight. Now.

She’s been satisfied. No more slip-ups now.

Not even when the slip-up tastes like redemption.