Chapter Thirteen
Conor and Pryce’s
Same Time
Saturday Morning
Nine Thirty A.M.
When the two of them got the assignment, Conor was more than happy to help his brother on this case. While he didn’t mind playing family babysitter, he still liked using his brain. Plus, he was worried about everyone who was psychic in his family.
And that wasn’t him.
Pryce had a gift, and a haunted camera that showed things that probably didn’t need to be seen, but for himself, he was about as psychic as a rock.
So, helping was a good thing.
When he got the emails with camera footage from Lucian’s, Ridge’s, and Julian’s home, they started going through them, matching faces in the crowd.
With Pryce by his side, they were giving faces names.
There was no one he’d rather work with than his wife. She made him smile.
“Hey, big guy, what are you thinking?” she asked. “You’re staring at me.”
He grinned bigger.
“I was thinking that I’m married to the most beautiful woman on the planet.”
She laughed.
“You want in my pants.”
Oh, hell, yes, he did, but that wasn’t how to get in them. Connor knew a better way.
“I do, but all I have to do is toss you over my shoulder and carry you to bed. You like a caveman.”
She kissed him.
Oh, she sure as hell did.
He could bet on that.
“I just think you’re pretty, and I love you,” he said. “Oh, and you’re smart. That’s all.”
She rested her head on his shoulder.
Well, she knew how he felt because she was married to the best man in the whole world.
“Same, my love.”
He kissed her on top of her head.
“What’s your mojo telling you?” he asked, pointing at the hours of camera footage. “You know. Your gift.”
She laughed.
“Conor, it doesn’t work like that. I have the gift of premonition, not magically picking a killer out on film.”
He laughed.
“Damn. I’m just saying, you tend to be pretty good at sniffing around when something is off.”
She was aware.
“Let’s just go through the footage.”
Then, she paused.
“Don’t die on me.”
Oh, well, that had his attention.
“What’s that mean? Do you think I’m going to die?” he asked, feeling a little panicky.
She stopped him.
“No, I was thinking about Wynter, and Ridge. He has to be so hurt and damaged. Don’t do me dirty like that by checking out on me.”
He got it now.
“I won’t, Baby. I’m not going anywhere.”
She was glad to hear that.
“Wait. What is that?”
He stopped the recording.
On it, there was a blur, like the footage had been damaged. When she hit the side of the laptop, he stared at her like she was crazy.
“That’s not going to make him come into focus, Pryce, Baby,” Connor offered.
She shrugged.
It always works for me,” she said, as her husband started the footage up again, and the man’s face came into focus. “See?”
He just laughed.
“I should know better,” he stated, focused on a guy that he’d never seen before around Salem, and they pretty much knew all the reporters, since his wife employed some of them.
“He’s not familiar,” Pryce admitted.
He was holding a notebook and at the gate with the other reporters outside of Ridge’s home after the cops got there, and had it not been for the blur, he never would have caught her attention.
“No clue.”
They made it bigger, and that’s when Pryce confirmed it.
“Yeah, I’ve never seen him before.”
This was only the second out of twenty reporters she’d said that about on all of the footage.
“We’ll save it and go back,” he said.
And he did just that.
Conor snipped it, put it in a document, and then started the recording back up again.
“Want to order lunch?” he asked. “So, we can feed the kids, and not have to stop working on this?”
She nodded.
“Sure,” she said, semi-distracted. “Get me my usual,” she added, thinking about the face they’d seen in the video.
Something was bothering her about it.
She just didn’t know what.
But she’d find out.
She’d bet her Pulitzer on it.
* * * L I T T L E M O O N * * *
Claire And Beck’s
Home
Just Waking Up
Because they’d had a rough night, they opted to sleep in. Their daughter was a sleeper, and it was a good thing, too.
They’d slept like the dead.
For the first time in their time together, Beckett came home from the office, showered, and then proceeded to touch EVERYTHING.
The mailbox.
The mail.
The milk carton.
A random bottle cap.
And nothing.
He wasn’t pulled into the static, and he wasn’t given horrible visions of shit that went down.
It was official.
His gift was most definitely gone.
In fact, he’d slept without his gloves on, and now, Claire could feel his chilly fingers on her thigh.
“I see you’re awake,” she stated.
He laughed.
“What gave it away? The no-leather barrier that’s missing?” he asked.
She laughed and rolled over to face her husband.
“Maybe.”
Beckett was watching her, and she was curious as to what he was thinking about. Then again, she was pretty sure she knew.
“You’re glad it’s gone, aren’t you?” she asked.
What gave it away?
The smile.
“Maybe,” he said.
Claire touched his cheek, and he leaned in for a kiss. Their lips met, and there was a tangle of tongues.
It was damn nice too.
When the kiss was finally broken, he spoke, sharing what else he was thinking.
“I am only sad because I was the only psychic on the team that could do what I did. I know that’s going to make it more difficult if Julian and Tori need something ‘found out’, but honestly, Claire, I hated it.”
She was well aware.
Unfortunately for Beckett, as time went by, he was more sensitive to his gift, and it was getting more difficult to pull him out of it.
That scared them both.
“It’ll be okay.”
He went there, despite Julian already telling him his job was safe, it was difficult not to keep feeling the emotions.
“I hope I don’t get fired.”
She reassured him.
“Julian doesn’t fire family, and he certainly doesn’t fire people who lose their gift at no fault of their own. We’ll just have to be regular PIs. He told you that already. You can believe him.”
He laughed.
“I kinda like that idea. I like being able to play sports with my kids, and play with Autumn without being pulled under.”
She knew it was a burden to him.
“I’m glad you’re free of it.”
He grinned.
“It makes me want to celebrate.”
Well, sign her up.
There was no way Claire was saying no to that. If her husband wanted to celebrate, well, then, celebrate they would.
“Come to momma,” she said, wiggling her finger in invitation.
Beckett grinned, and he moved closer to his wife. As he did, she pulled off her nightgown and tossed it out of their bed.
Oh, well, he liked where this was going.
As he reached for her, there was that horrible fear, at first, that he’d touch something and it would pull him down into the static.
Only, as he touched her and their bed, nothing happened. There was no freefall into the chaos or pain associated with the linen covering their mattress.
Hot.
Damn.
He was freaking free.
Diving in, he found her mouth and drove the heat up in the room with just that kiss.
He plumbed.
Plundered.
And took.
With a moan, she had him focused on taking her deeper into the pleasure.
For both of them.
There was no fear and no worries holding him back, and instead, his hands could go anywhere he wanted, enjoying the moment.
“Yes, Beck. Yes,” she whispered into the kiss.
As he enjoyed the moment, Beckett went lower. At her breasts, he tormented, teased, and drove her wild.
Oh, he loved his life.
Now, more than ever.
As he had fun, playing on her sexy playground, Claire moaned and bowed under the masterful touch of his hands and mouth. They had her hips locked to his body, as his mouth enjoyed the job at hand.
“God!” she gasped.
Oh, and Beckett wanted more.
Their daughter would be up soon, and Beckett wanted to make sure he had a good morning with his beautiful wife.
It was going to be a fast ride into the pleasure.
Trust and believe.
As he slid lower, Claire opened for him, wanting her man’s hands all over every inch of her. While he’d always been able to touch her, their bedding or their blankets could send him into the static.
That he was safe…
She was enjoying this.
The whole time, he was kissing a trail down her torso until he could swirl his tongue around her belly button. The way she shook sent chills down his body, too.
When she whimpered his name, he reveled in the fun that was about to be had.
Beckett loved a morning romp, and he especially loved it with his wife.
As his hands went to her breasts to tease and torment, Beckett used his thumbs to torment and tease her nipples to peaks. He played, tugged, and tormented her not only for her pleasure, but for his too.
Sue him.
He was feeling greedy that morning. It was like he woke up yesterday, one man, and now, he was a whole new one.
A free one.
If the universe loved him, he’d never be burdened with that gift again.
“Beck!” she hissed, her body wracked with pleasure. “Please!”
His name on her lips did everything it always did. It made Beckett want her more.
There was no him without her.
That was the bottom line.
Slowly, he inched his way down her body, enjoying the taste and touch of wife.
As she writhed against him, Beckett couldn’t get enough of Claire, and he knew that would always be the case. They were a match made in Heaven, and he was so glad to be on this journey with her.
Ridge losing Wynter made him want to wax poetic about his own love.
How could it not?
“I love you, Claire. Forever. I promise that I always will,” he vowed.
Her heart skipped in her chest at his words.
He sounded so light, happy, and in a good place now that he was free from his psychic burden.
She loved that for him.
“And I’ll love you for just as long,” she vowed. “I promise, Beck. I swear to the moon and back.”
That made him want to smile.
Man.
He was damn lucky.
This could have ended badly, and he knew it.
As he went lower, Claire opened for him, and he spread her legs wider with his shoulders, so that he could get comfy.
Someone was about to have some fun.
Wicked.
Fun.
Between her legs, all he wanted was to hear his wife shout his name as he made her cum. The race was on, and he was going against the clock, and Autumn being awake.