12. Sir, this is an Emotional Crime Scene #2
“Looks like I win this round of hide and seek, kitten.” My body trembles at the sound of Ghost’s low tone growling in my ear.
“Don’t you think we are a bit old for these kinds of games?”
“You love it,” he says into my ear, making my skin feel hot and flustered.
I squirm in his hold, and he presses harder into me, pinning me between him and the edge of the sink. It’s hard to breathe and my heart hammers inside my chest, but heat races through me, leaving me caught between panic and wild arousal.
Desperation takes hold and my body moves according to my training as I force my elbow backwards, directly into his ribs.
A slight puff of air is forced from his lips, and I kick his shin with my heel, causing him to back off just enough for me to dip low and spin to the side.
My hip hits against the other counter as powerful hands grab my waist, this time slamming my back into the counter while Ghost’s large body presses into my front.
“It’s good to see kitty has some claws.”
He reaches and grabs my hair, pulling downward to force my gaze up at him.
The faint light allows a glimpse of the white skull painted on his mask, towering above me, but the rest of him bleeds into the darkness.
He grinds into me, and I can feel the hardening bulge between his legs, which only turns me on more.
He releases his hold on my hair, yet my neck remains craned as I stare into the black wells of his mask where his eyes should be.
I just need to see him.
“And what about this kitty?” Ghost grabs me by the hips and places me onto the top of the counter.
He takes a step forward, pushing my legs apart as he settles into the space between them.
A gloved hand moves from my hip, a single digit extended, to swipe over the crotch of my thin pants. “Did she get scratched last night?”
“I thought you would know.” I raise an eyebrow, whether he can see it or not. Deliberately poking at him fills me with a rush more potent than my kit or a bottle of vodka. “You said you’d watch. Why don’t you tell me? Did I masturbate last night or not?”
He chuckles, the sound is so low that if it weren’t for the silence of the abandoned house, I wouldn’t have heard it at all. “Cranky.” He uses the same finger that he just used between my thighs to boop me on the nose. “Clearly not.”
A huff of air pushes its way through my lips with force. “Actually, that’s just part of my personality. Something you haven’t bothered to learn over the past twenty years like you were supposed to.”
He bends down slowly, his masked face gradually getting closer to mine.
I keep my chin aimed defiantly high, my back and shoulders straight.
Despite my position, his hand comes up to gently, but firmly, grab hold of my chin.
He stops mere inches away. The dim lighting reflects off the painted strokes that make up the skull.
I can feel a hot puff of his breath forcing its way through his mask.
My eyes flutter shut for a moment as I breathe him in, the scent filling my body.
Another rush of warmth spreads through me, something entirely visceral.
Dammit. Keep it together, Kira. All he did was breathe. My traitorous nipples harden, pressing against my bra almost painfully.
“Did you want me to break into your house last night, kitten? You told me no, but that’s what you really wanted me to do. Isn’t it?” I can practically hear the smile in his tone. “Come into your house and take what’s mine .”
A shiver runs down my spine, but I hold my body still. Every breath I take is short, trying my best not to breathe him in anymore. I need to think straight. My eyes stare into the black where his eyes should be, directing my soul at him even if I couldn’t see his.
“I want to know who you are,” I say firmly.
“A name is a powerful thing, kitten.”
“Oh yeah? Then tell me about Calvin Ledger.”
If the name hit any sort of chord inside Ghost, he doesn’t give it away.
“I needed to get you alone for a little while. Somewhere, private.” The smile is back in his tone, as if he’s gloating.
“Did you do something to the DNA I sent to the lab?” I wasn’t exactly sure what I was accusing him of doing, but I knew well enough that Calvin’s report had led me here.
“Computers are quite easy to hack into.” This time, a small huff of laughter comes out. “Phones too.”
My gaze flicks toward the sink and the ring of light emanating from it. No wonder my messages were there one moment and gone the next.
“Give me my dick pic back,” I say with a scowl.
“That’s your reaction?” He laughs again. This time it comes across as real. His head moves away from mine, giving me enough space to take a full breath. “Fuck. You make it hard to be good.”
“It’s mine.” While I normally don’t enjoy getting a random picture of a cock sent to my phone, I could use it to find the location where the picture was taken. And hopefully, find out who he is from there.
Plus, yeah…
“Still feeling like you have an itch that needs scratching?” He releases his hold on my chin, and I move it around to break the stiff feeling. “Do you need a name to scream, kitten?”
“I already have a name for you. It’s Ghost. Since that’s what you act like.”
“Maybe I should change yours to princess. You keep acting like you expect to get your way.”
A strange stabbing sensation fills me at the sound of the word princess. I don’t like that moniker coming from his lips.
“How about I do one better than returning the photo? I’ll let you see the real thing, kitten. All you have to do is beg.”
“How about you give me your name, or I leave?”
“What makes you think that’s up to you?” His tone is low again, back to a near growl as he leans toward me.
I straighten my back, closing the remaining distance between us. My lips brush against his mask. “Because you can’t afford to make me hate you anymore than I already do.”
Ghost reacts to the verbal slap. His entire body tenses when his muscles bunch. It only lasts for a moment before he builds back his confidence. He moves back, but his hands slam onto the counter, caging me between them.
“You’re right. Where were my manners, princess?” His tone is sharp and for the first time, a flicker of fear washes through me. There’s an edge of anger emanating from him. “How about I scratch your itch, then shove my cock down your throat? Ghost works just fine, kitten.”
I’m at war with myself. Fear. Arousal. Mental whiplash. And a deep primal urge screaming inside me to have him fuck me senseless. That part doesn’t even care if he kills me after, or that it was plausible.
Fucked-up mentality from a life being mateless.
I decide on the only self-respectful move I have: fight to get free from his hold. It’s barely a struggle. He quickly grabs me by the waist even as I punch him in the shoulder. It hurts me more than it hurt him, but it doesn’t stop me from continuing to swing at him.
My body feels like fire, burning me from the inside out as I think of every time I wanted to cuss out my soulmate for leaving me to a life like this.
Punch . Every message that I had sent. Punch .
The ones he ignored. Punch. Punch . I’ve practically used my skin as a diary since I started in the police force in my early twenties.
When I had finally accepted the fact that I was going to be alone for the rest of my life.
My life hadn’t mattered because I didn’t have him. Punch .
With all the strength I can muster, I punch him one last time.
“I know you need it to hurt.”
“What?” I gasp, my chest heaving while my body sags into him.
“I know why you like to play these little games with me, kitten. You need it.” His tone is firm but void of the menacing quality that made me feel afraid. “The way your heart beats faster.”
A moment of silence stretches between us, and the pounding of my heart is the only sound I can hear. Ghost releases my hips and a moment later I feel his hands teasingly skim above my arms, working up my body.
“The hairs on your arms are standing. Just waiting for lightning to strike,” he whispers, ghosting his hands over my shoulders in a way that feels far more like torture than the rough touches we shared earlier. “Here I am, princess. The storm.”
I feel rather than see him deftly reach up and push the bottom of his mask up before crashing his lips against mine and unleashing the raging torrent he promised.
Desperately I gasp, feeling like I have been reborn when my soulmate’s tongue slips between my parted lips to spell out every rough, dirty, and wicked thing he plans to do to me.
Our tongues battle and dance. Playing a new game of dominance, I bite his bottom lip to establish my ranking early on.
The move turns Ghost feral; he grabs my chin to forcefully kiss me.
His lips move with expertise, leading the dance and ending it at his own timing.
He turns my head toward the pale moonlit window while his lips trail across my jaw.
I feel a sharp pinch as he bites down on my earlobe, then warm wet as he sucks it between his lips and gives an enticing pull before letting it slip free.
“I’m going to need a safe word from you, kitten. You’ve already told me you say no when you really mean yes.” I feel the heat of his breath on my neck, and it makes me shiver.
“Alfredo,” I whisper, though my voice is tight caught in his grip.
“Alfredo,” he repeats, and I force a slight nod.
I strain my eyes to the side to get a better glimpse of him.
“Do you want to watch Kira?”
I force another nod, and he releases me. I turn to face him, my eyes squinting in the dim light, desperate to see every inch of his face not masked. Pale skin on a sculpted jawline houses a set of smirking lips that smile in a secret knowing.