Chapter Thirty #2
His soft chuckle irritated and amused at the same time.
He loved to torture her, to make her beg, to make her come like she never had before him.
His fingers dug into her hips as he lifted her to her knees and moved her legs apart.
“I can’t wait until next week when I can worship this sweet ass for an hour before I do this.
” He slammed into her, stealing the breath from her lungs and wrenching a sharp cry of pleasure from her lips.
“Shhh.”
“Don’t do that and then tell me I have to be quiet.”
His hand came down on her ass, drawing another moan from her.
Then he picked up the pace and reached around to caress her clit.
The combination had her on the verge of release within seconds.
Normally, when they had time to spare, he’d back off and make her wait, but tonight he didn’t make her wait, driving her to an explosive release that had her biting the pillow to keep from screaming.
“Yes,” he whispered. “Like that. Ah, God, Samantha…” He came as hard as she had, his fingers digging into her flesh as he heated her from the inside. “I can’t wait to have ten full days in bed with you.”
“Is that all we’re going to do?”
“That’s it. Every minute of every day for ten beautiful days.”
“I can’t think of anything I’d rather do.” She squeezed the hand he’d placed over her fast-beating heart.
“And that, my love, is why you’re the best wife I’ve ever had.”
Sam snorted with laughter. “I’m the only wife you’re ever going to have.”
“In that case, thank God I got it so very, very right the first time around.” He took a nibble of her shoulder and soothed the sting with his tongue. “Now get your lazy ass out of bed so we can have dinner with our son.”
Recharged and ready for battle, Sam arrived at her office at six thirty the next morning to go over the reports that had been filed in her absence. Technically, her suspension didn’t end until zero seven hundred, but no one was around to snag her on the technicality.
Before she dug into work, she took a moment to fire off an email to the president of the Fraternal Order of Police union about the bills her father had been hit with after his surgery.
He responded right away, pledging to look into what they could do to help, and Sam thanked him for his help.
She hoped they could do something to help with the bills.
With that taken care of, she focused on the autopsy report for Troy Hamilton, which confirmed the blow that had caved in his skull had ended his life.
Approximately twenty other hits had been redundant and were indicative of the murderer’s rage.
Fingerprints found on the golf club belonged to Hamilton as well as the man who often served as his caddy and Jacoby, who often played with Hamilton.
Avery had noted in the file that Jacoby’s prints on the club didn’t mean he was the murderer.
Records at their exclusive club put Jacoby on the golf course with Hamilton at least fifteen times in the last year alone.
He could’ve held the club for Hamilton while he tied his shoes, for example, Hill had written in the notes.
“Still in denial, are you, Avery?” she muttered.
“Not so much anymore,” Hill said from the doorway, startling her.
“Good morning to you, too.”
“Nice to see you back where you belong.”
“Nice to be here.”
“Hell of a scrum outside.”
Sam shrugged off the comment. “That’s what you get when the USA considers charges against the VP’s wife.”
“What’s up with that anyway?”
She told him about the grand jury decision and watched his eyes widen with realization of what the USA hoped to achieve.
Nodding, Avery said, “The grand jury gets him off the hook and he’s hoping they won’t indict.”
“Something like that. I wish he’d said I’m not going to file charges and that would be the end of it, but I realize he has to pacify Ramsey and everyone else around here who thinks I get special treatment.”
“It’s a wise move on his part.” He took a closer look at her, and Sam had to fight the urge to squirm.
“What?”
“You look better. You feel okay?”
“Still tired and a bit achy, but much better than I was.” Embarrassment heated her face. “Thanks again for the assist. You went way above and beyond.”
“It was no problem.”
Sam stood, eager to get away from him and his golden-eye gaze and the ever-present weird vibe he put out. “I need to update my murder board and get ready for the morning briefing.”
“I’ll give you a hand.”
“Great,” she said with far more enthusiasm than she felt. “What’s the word coming from the bureau?”
“Stunned disbelief. Troy is dead, Dustin is a suspect, Courtney is in custody. Everyone is trying to get their head around the fact that our revered director raised a kidnapped child as his own, and we’re holding our breath waiting for that to become public.
Do you know when that’s going to happen? ”
“I expect to see Detective Watson and Mr. and Mrs. Rollings sometime today when they arrive to see Taylor. We’ll work with Watson on a joint statement once we’ve had a chance to speak with Jacoby and Mrs. Hamilton.”
“He’s hired Tim Russo to represent him,” Avery said.
“I like that guy. I remember when he refused to represent Elle Jestings in the Vasquez case because she owed his firm fifty grand. She was so mad.” The memory made Sam smile months later. She loved when arrogant murdering assholes got their comeuppance.
“At least he’s a straight-shooter unlike our old friend Bill Springer.”
“That’s true.” The name “Springer” alone was enough to give Sam nightmares, so she shook off the reference and focused on the updates to the murder board Malone had kept in her absence.
He’d done a good job, but he was no Sam Holland.
She filled in the new information that’d come in overnight and tried to ignore Avery to the best of her ability.
“Lieutenant.”
Sam turned to face Detective Carlucci.
“Nice to have you back.”
“Nice to be back.”
“Gigi and I finished going through the phone records, and we found something interesting.” Dani laid some papers on the table and pointed to the highlighted outgoing call recorded on Jacoby’s personal cell phone on Sunday at 3:20 p.m. “That’s the landline number for Courtney Hamilton’s mother’s house. ”
“And the call came in roughly one hour before Troy Hamilton was murdered.” Sam’s body buzzed from the burst of adrenaline that came from pulling threads that led to connections.
“Excellent work.” She added the information to the murder board under the photo of Courtney Hamilton and drew a red line with an arrow on it to Jacoby.
Malone came into the room, looking sharp-eyed and well rested. “Courtney Hamilton’s attorney is here, and she’d like to talk.”
“Excellent,” Sam said. “I love to talk.”
Malone rolled his eyes. “Welcome back, Lieutenant. I’d say we missed you but you didn’t give us the chance to miss you.”
“Aww, Captain.” She dabbed at her eyes dramatically. “You’re so sweet.”
“Let’s get the AUSA here,” Malone said, “and then see what’s on her mind.”