Mia dropped her belongings on the floor as soon as she walked into her apartment. The smoke from the woods tangled with the smell of the cop’s cologne and lingered in her hair. As much as she hated losing his scent, she had to wash off the smell of burning flesh.
Standing under the stream of water, she closed her eyes and rested her palms on the tile, the warm water beating on her face. Instantly, the cop appeared in her mind. She felt him as if he were in the shower with her, his hands on her skin, sliding over her breasts. Every inch of her ached with need.
Her eyes snapped open. What is happening to me? Normally, Mia didn’t have sexual urges. She might as well be a nun, having no interest or desire to be touched. Grabbing the knobs, she turned the temperature to cold and quickly finished washing, fighting the urge to pleasure herself.
Walking to her dresser, Mia pulled out her nightclothes. She preferred comfort over sexy any day of the week. Her white, cotton boy shorts and light-blue tank caressed her skin as she wiggled in bed, warm and cozy.
Imagining the cop in bed with her was easy since she couldn’t keep the images out of her mind. Her thoughts kept shifting back to the shower, thinking of how he’d feel wet and soapy against her skin. She needed a distraction that would drive him from her thoughts, so she picked up a book off the nightstand. After a few minutes of pure irritation, she tossed the book to the end of the bed.
“Fuck.” Everything reminded her of him.
Giving up, she pulled the covers over her head and within minutes, she fell asleep.
Before long, he was there in her dreams, dominating them, as if he had always been around. Different fantasies played out, yet they all ended with the same outcome—a powerful climax.
She slept fitfully, the dreams plaguing her throughout the night.
She leaned back, her body shimmering with the faint light from the moon as he whispered her name. She looked into his eyes, her climax building, but suddenly their deep brown beauty was gone. They quickly transformed into the cold, glowing eyes she had come to know too well. Four terrifying words came in a demonic whisper: “I’m coming for you.”
Startled, she shot straight up, scrubbed her eyes, and then grabbed the clock, focusing on the red digital numbers. She was shocked that she’d slept, even fitfully, for seven hours. Normally, she had to exhaust her mind to get a good night’s sleep. Taking a few deep breaths, she stood and headed to the kitchen.
She patted her rumbling stomach and tied her knee-length robe as she stared into the empty cabinets. They reminded her how lonely she was. Although, she did a good job of fooling herself into believing she wasn’t lonely. She had suppressed emotion for so long she had felt dead inside—until the cop. Now, she suddenly felt as if the world were moving. She knew it was silly—she’d only just met him.
She grabbed the Honey Nut Cheerios from the cabinet and had just turned to get the milk from the refrigerator when someone knocked on her door.
She jerked her head toward the sound. No one visited her. She glanced at the clock. Six-thirty p.m.
Her heart skipped a beat when she peered through the peephole.
It’s him! Here, at my apartment! Her mind raced. Her eyes darted frantically around the room.
Is it clean enough? Do I have anything weird laying out? Am I clean? She sniffed herself for confirmation.
He knocked again. “Mia, it’s Detective Barnett, from last night. Are you available?”
Was I available? If he only knew how available I was...
Tiny sparks of electricity danced inside her as she unlocked the door, a process in itself. Two deadbolts, a chain, and a regular thumb lock.
“Hi, umm... Detective Barnett, was it?” Her words stumbled out. Great time for my tongue to stop working. I sound like an idiot. She tried to focus.
“Yes, it is. Detective Cole Barnett.” His smile melted her heart.
“What are you doing here? I mean, how did you know where to find me?”
He grinned. “I’m a good detective, Mia.”
She opened the door and walked away so he could enter. She peeked at him over her shoulder as he stood in the entranceway, tracing the length of his body.
“Well, Detective, do you usually find what you’re looking for?” She’d never flirted before, nor had anyone flirted with her. She liked it! It made her insides glow.
His face abandoned all expression. “No, sometimes we search our entire existence for something, though we may never find it.” His voice held a sound of yearning, and Mia felt a sense of sorrow until the corners of his mouth pulled up into a smile.
She turned to face him, forcing her gaze to meet his dangerous, soul-melting eyes. “I hope you find what you’re looking for, Detective.”
“Oh, let’s just say I have renewed hope.”
Cole thought he’d imagined the pull her closeness had invoked within him last night, but that wasn’t the case. He felt the same reaction now, the same pull. He could feel her excitement when he was near, and as he stared into her stunning blue eyes, he felt the pull again. He couldn’t wait to get to her apartment, and now that he was there, he fought the urge to hold her and take her lips. No woman had ever done this to him before. I must have her. I have to taste her to be sure.
“Are you coming in, or would you like to stay out in the hallway and talk?”
“I haven’t been invited in, yet.”
“Detective, won’t you please come in and interrogate me? I mean…” Redness tinged her cheeks, and she pulled her gaze away from his. He laughed deep and loud.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”
“Say that out loud? And yes, I would love to.” He stepped inside, pausing to survey the apartment. His eyes came to rest on the table in the kitchen. “I’ve interrupted your meal. Should I come back?”
“No, that’s okay. Besides, you look so excited that I invited you in, I wouldn’t have the heart to send you packing.” She put the milk on the table. “Would you like something?”
“Yes, I would. Could you please go put some clothes on?” He boldly looked her over.
Mia looked down at her loosened robe, giving him a peek at her panties and bare belly. She pulled it together with a panicked expression. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. I just don’t think I can get any work done if you’re dressed like that.”
“Excuse me.” She quickly walked over to the bathroom area.
“That’s a beautiful shade of red on your cheeks.” He watched her silhouette as she dropped her robe.
“Glad you like it,” she muttered, “It’s probably going to stay that way, especially since the only thing separating you from my naked body is a thin six-by-twelve wooden room divider.”
If she only knew he could hear her. Smell her. And there was that pull again. He felt connected, in tune with her. Cole didn’t have to turn around to know she was watching him as he stood by her bed. He felt her. He imagined laying her on the bed, gliding his fingers down her stomach, and sliding them into the panties she had innocently displayed for him. He spoke with his back to her. “Is this your mother in the picture?”
“Yes, it is.”
“You look like her.”
“Can I ask you to do something for me now?”
“What can I do for you, Mia?” He arched a brow.
“Move away from my bed, please.”
He slowly walked toward her. “Does that bother you—me being so close to your bed?” He inched closer to her.
“Just as much as my clothing bothered you, Detective.”
He could tell she was nervous, playing right back with him. Desire filled the air. Mia sucked in a breath, held it, and kept her eyes safely on his chest. He came to a stop inches from her, his shirt brushed hers as he stepped to the side and walked past.
The chair moaned as he slid it across the wood floor. She looked back at him.
“Breathe, Mia” He smiled when she complied. Taking a deep breath, she turned. Cole stood at the kitchen table, hands resting on top of the pulled out chair. “Come finish your meal, and I can talk to you over here. Is that okay?”
She nodded as her hand slid over the top of the chair, closing in on his. The air charged and electricity arched between them, snapping in the air.
“Ouch!”
Cole grabbed her hand, circling his thumb on top of her soft skin. Something inside of him shifted at the slightest amount of her pain; a protective feeling emerged. “Are you okay?” he asked, his tone laced with concern.
She pulled her hand from his, nodding as she sat. Cole watched her finger trace circles on the polished tabletop, mimicking the way he had stroked her hand.
“Is this what you usually eat for dinner?” He glanced down at his watch as he sat in the chair next to her.
“I eat whatever seems good to me. I’m bored with food lately. After you have the same thing over and over again, eating isn’t satisfying. You just do it because you need the nourishment.”
“I know exactly how you feel.” He grabbed a pad from his top pocket. “Do you mind if I ask you some questions?” He placed his pen on the table and waited for her response.
Mia’s cat jumped up to bat at the pen, then arched his back and hissed. Cole didn’t flinch, but eyed him curiously.
“I’m sorry. He usually doesn’t do that. Bela, get down!” She placed him on the floor as his fur stood at attention.
“He? Bela?”
“I named him after Bela Lugosi.” She bent down to scratch Bela between his ears. “Do you know who that is?”
“Yes.” He leaned back, sliding down in the chair. “Which of his characters do you like the most?”
Mia exhaled sharply. “Dracula of course. Isn’t that everyone’s?”
With an ironic smile, Cole picked up his pad and pen from the table, and chuckled.
“I’m sorry. Did I… miss something?”
His eyes darted back to hers. “No.” The radio on his belt emitted a tone. “Excuse me, Mia.” He stood to make his way to the living room and turned back for his pad and pen just as Mia was getting up. She jumped when his chest brushed against hers.
“I forgot to get my pad and pen.” He leaned over to collect them, the closeness of her body setting him on fire. And from the red color spreading over her skin, she was burning from it too. She quickly stepped back and tumbled over the chair. The bowl flew through the air behind her, landing in the sink with style. Mia’s landing however, was not so lucky.
He laughed heartily. “Mia, did I do something to make you afraid of me?” Cole knelt in front of her, gently cradling her neck and back as he slowly lifted her into a sitting position.
Mia scrunched her face and rubbed her head where it had connected with the floor. “I’m not afraid of you—it’s your touch. I don’t like to be touched.”
“Isn’t that a shame.” He smiled and stood. “Are you okay? Does it hurt?”
“I’m okay. The pain went away the moment you placed your hand on me.” Her brow creased.
“Ah, see, touching isn’t so bad.” He held out his hand to her. “I got a call. I have to attend to an incident at the beach. We’ll try this again, tomorrow.” When she slid her fingers across his palm, an electric current radiated from their connection, slithering through his limbs in a constant hum. He pulled hard, and she landed against his chest. A strand of blonde hair fell to rest against her crimson-colored cheekbone. The urge to kiss her overwhelmed him. As if it had a mind of its own, his hand glided to the small of her back.
Her gaze fixed on his. Again, her body bowed toward him. “Thank you, Detective. I’m looking forward to seeing you tomorrow.” Her tone was trance-like.
Her closeness was killing him, and his feelings caused him to break the rules. Like right now—touching a victim of a crime while on duty. He should pull away, but all he could think about was bringing her closer. She smelled so damn good. No perfume, just her scent, and a faint aroma of fruit from her hair. He could eat her alive, right here, right now. He reached his hand up to sweep the stray hair from her face and tuck it behind her ear, but quickly snatched it back. This wasn’t like him. He took a step back. “And I look forward to seeing you, Mia. Off duty.”
Cole’s sexy smile was full of anticipation.
***
Oh, yeehaw! Her insides screamed as she closed the door behind him. Lost in thought as the scent of Cole lingered in the room, the phone went unnoticed until the answering machine picked up and pulled her out of her daze. She snatched the phone from its cradle.
“Hey, Cyn. How’s my BFF?” She jumped on the couch and tucked the phone under her chin.
“Hey, Mia. It’s time for girl’s night out. You in?”
“Yeah, I’d love to come. Tell me when and where.”
Girl’s night out was something they tried to do at least once a month. Cynthia spent most of her time with her boyfriend, Kevin. Mia was envious. She desperately wanted to feel a deep connection with someone—someone who could reach out and embrace her soul. Sadly, she felt she was holding out for something that didn’t exist for someone like her. They’d have to embrace her weirdness, too, and that would never happen.
“Let’s meet at the usual place, usual time.”
“Sounds good to me. Oh, and I have to tell you about the guy I met. I know you’re busy, so call me back later and we can catch up.”
Mia ended the call, twirling the phone in her lap by its antenna, wishing she could go back to bed. Bela jumped up and purred loudly, lulling her into a catnap with him.
As her eyes jumped into a REM state, the sound of drums began to beat…
She floated along and stared at the moon, passing the same tree she’d passed a million times before. A baby began to cry. She pushed further along, until at last a new sound arose.
Deep, rhythmic chanting filled the air.
She jumped, startled awake as the last beat of the drums slammed down with a force that echoed in her mind. Mia headed straight for the shower. Her shift started at ten, and now she was running late. Trying to shake the dream from her mind, she rubbed her fingers over the tile.
She loved the bathroom. The walk-in shower had Southwestern style bricks on the outside and a neutral sand colored tile on the inside. The large, multi-head spout made her feel as if she was bathing in the rain, just like the ones seen on “Most Luxurious Spas” on the HGTV channel. It’s what had sold her on the apartment.
Patting her hair dry, she froze as she stared at the discarded pants she’d worn last night. She forgot to tell Cole about Art’s pack of Reds.
Fear tugged at her, afraid of what she would see when she touched the pack again. She tried hard to block everything except the note. Breathing deeply, she reached down and quickly withdrew the pack. The smell of tobacco rose to her sensitive nose as she pulled the note from inside. Unrolling it slowly, the letters revealed themselves like movie credits. “Three girls.”
What the hell is that supposed to mean? Now she felt bad for blocking the images. She thought the note would hold more information. She didn’t expect it to say, “Hey, the guy in the red shirt killed me, and here’s his name and address.” But come on… three girls?
She stuffed the note back inside, pulled on a pair of jeans and a tank, and then shoved the pack of Reds into her pocket.
She couldn’t wait to share the note with Cole.