Page 31

Chapter

Ten

Eli couldn’t remember the last time he’d actually enjoyed snuggling with a woman after sex.

It wasn't like he’d kicked the women he’d been involved with straight out of bed once they’d both been satisfied, they’d spent the night, or he’d spent the night, some had liked to lie against him, others had rolled over to their side of the bed, but all of those times he’d never felt this connection.

He’d never felt the need to hold them close, keep them cuddled against his side even in sleep.

But with Florence, he felt like even if she was on the other side of the bed she was too far away.

Florence had set her alarm for six o’clock, which meant he had exactly nine minutes to wait until she woke up and he could make love to her again.

She’d wanted to wake at five to hit the gym before she started her day, and he’d been slack lately, skipping several workouts because he was spending all his free time with Florence.

But he’d talked her into staying in bed for another hour because he wanted to start his day exercising in a different manner.

Another glance at the clock on Florence’s nightstand said there was still another four minutes before the alarm would go off.

That was too long to wait.

Rolling Florence underneath him, Eli trailed a line of kisses down her neck. “You awake, princess?”

“Mmm,” Florence murmured as she stretched and blinked open sleepy eyes to smile up at him. “If you keep doing that then yes, I'm awake.” She arched her neck to give him better access.

“ If I keep this up? Princess, try and stop me. Touching you, kissing you, tasting you, I could make this my new full-time job.” If it were up to him, he’d be calling up the jewelers today to insist they have the ring ready and waiting for him to pick up this morning so he could propose to her tonight.

He wanted to make love to her every night, fall asleep with their limbs tangled together, and then start each new day with sex.

“How do you get me from asleep to turned on in mere seconds?” Florence asked as she moaned and shifted, lifting her hips as she felt his hard length pressed against her.

“Having you sleep naked is part of my master plan,” he teased as he probed her entrance. Last night they’d done it fast and hard, slow and sensual, and everything in between, right now he wanted to take his time, enjoy the moment.

Florence obviously had other plans.

She thrust her hips up, burying him deep inside her hot, wet center.

Just like that his control snapped. When he was inside her bringing her pleasure was all he could think about. It wasn't even about his own release, he just wanted to see the look on her face as she toppled over the edge into a world filled with nothing but ecstasy.

Capturing her nipple in his mouth, he tongued it and was rewarded with a moan falling from her lips that made him grow harder if that were possible. Her fingers curled into his hair as he feasted on her, savoring every moan, every sigh, every wiggle as her body urged him on.

His release was building, but he held it back, determined that he wouldn’t come until she did.

Scraping his teeth lightly across her nipple, he sent her tipping over the edge. She clamped around him as her orgasm spiraled through him, setting off his own orgasm.

It plowed into him with the force of a freight train, going on and on until he thought it was going to last forever.

By the time it finally faded, his arms shook as he kept his elbows locked so he wouldn’t crush Florence.

“Don’t,” she said, reaching up to curl her arms around his neck, pulling him down so his body covered hers.

“I'm too heavy, princess, I’ll hurt you.”

“You won't,” she contradicted, holding him tighter so he couldn’t lever himself back up. “I like feeling your body on top of mine, makes me feel safe.”

Tilting his face sideways he pressed a kiss to her temple. “You are safe with me, princess.”

“I know.” She gave a contented sigh as she snuggled closer.

He liked this.

Just lying in bed, holding Florence in his arms.

This was perfect.

Everything with her was perfect.

He’d give her a few more days, a week or two maybe, to get used to the idea that they were together and he wasn't going to let her down, and then he was proposing.

It didn't matter to him if they’d known each other a day, a week, a month, or a year, he was falling in love with her, and he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her, so he saw no reason to delay.

The connection between them was strong, it wasn't going anywhere, he couldn’t imagine anything coming between them.

Was he expecting a perfect life without arguments and disagreements?

No.

Eli was too realistic to think that. But he’d watched his parents model how to have a successful marriage, how to deal with problems as soon as they arose so that nothing was left to fester, and that’s what he wanted with Florence.

“I wish we didn't have to get up and get ready for work,” Florence said.

“Me too. Want to play hooky?”

“I wish I could, but Jake and I have to interview Michael Stypes today, get the paperwork on the case wrapped up to send to the DA.”

“I know the guy is a serial killer, but still I can't help but be grateful to him. If he hadn't tried to run you over then we would never have met.” It felt wrong to be grateful to a killer, but how could he not be thankful that Florence had been brought into his life? He’d needed her, and she’d needed him, and fate had thrown them together at the perfect time.

“Can't argue with that. I'm still glad he’s off the streets though, because men like Michael, they never stop killing.”

He didn't have to be a cop to know that.

And knowing that filled him with a cold dread.

Florence had survived a serial killer when she was eight years old, but it didn't look like the man had been able to let her go.

The Coffin Killer had been stalking her for nearly two decades now, it seemed unlikely that he would ever leave her alone. “Did Jake make any progress in finding the man who attacked you?”

“I don’t think so, but we were distracted with the Dumpster Killer. CSU didn't find anything here, he probably wore gloves, he’s been active for decades, he knows what he’s doing, he won't have left any forensics behind.”

“Why aren’t you more worried about this?” He lifted up so he could see her properly.

“I'm a cop, I can take care of myself, and he’s never made physical contact like that before. I think he only came by because he wanted to help, make sure we got the Dumpster Killer off the streets, I guess he didn't like the man trying to kill me.”

“Are you making excuses for him?”

“What?” Florence’s eyes grew wide and disbelieving.

“No, of course not. That man tried to kill me, he sexually assaulted me, I'm his only living victim, you don’t think I feel guilty that I survived and all those other girls didn't? I’ve been looking for him ever since I became a cop, I'd give anything to be the one to snap cuffs on him and read him his rights. If you don’t get that, then maybe you should leave.” She tried to shove him off her, but he sat up and drew her into his lap.

“You're right, I'm sorry. Of course I don’t really think you're making excuses for him. It just terrifies me that there is a smart killer out there who is fixated on you.” He’d already lost most of his family, there was no way he was losing Florence too.

Her face softened, and she reached out to cup his cheek in her hand. “Okay, I guess I can understand that, it freaks my brother out too. I'm careful, and if he comes after me again he won't be getting away. You don’t have to worry about me.”

“Too late, princess. When you care about someone you worry about them, so I'm going to worry about you. Always.” Turning his face to the side, he touched his lips to the inside of her wrist, making her shiver.

“I guess that’s kind of sweet.”

“That’s me,” he grinned, argument averted, he was going to have to get a handle on the fact that Florence had a dangerous job. “If I make us French toast for breakfast, we’ll have time to take a shower together before we have to leave for work.”

“Shower first, breakfast can wait.” Florence slid off his lap and grabbed his hand, leading him into the bathroom.

Watching her perky little behind and her long toned legs, he could go with that plan.

8:12 A.M.

“I might have something.”

Florence glanced over at her partner. “Something on which case?”

“Yours.”

“Mine? You mean the break-in?” She was ready to put that behind her. She didn't think that the Coffin Killer was a threat to her, and if he was stalking her, then maybe she could get him off the streets.

Nineteen years.

For nineteen long years she had wanted that man off the streets.

Even as an eight-year-old child, she had wanted to do whatever she could to put him behind bars, but what she could do had been limited.

She’d known that the man who had tried to kill her was her mother’s boyfriend, although she’d seen him only a handful of times, but neither she nor her mother had been able to tell the cops anything that had helped them find the guy.

Over time, she’d had to get used to the idea that he would never be caught.

That the little girls who had lost their lives would never get justice.

Florence had always felt worse for those girls than she had for herself.

She’d gotten off lightly, she had lived, they hadn't. That was what she had told herself when she couldn’t fall asleep for fear of nightmares, that was what she had told herself when she was terrified to be alone but had no one there to comfort and reassure her.

That was what she had told herself every day for almost two years before she’d finally felt like her life was returning to normal.