6. Jasper
SIX
JASPER
Where the fuck is Lyssa?
I check my phone for the fourth time in as many minutes, my thumb hovering over the screen as if the messages might magically rearrange themselves. Nothing. What the hell is going on here?
Didn't we agree to meet back here after grabbing a few hours of sleep?
A knot of irritation coils tighter in my gut. "Jones." The young agent looks up from his laptop with surprise. "Have you seen Agent Lyssa?"
"No, Sir. Not since late last night."
Of course not. I rake a hand through my damp hair, possibilities racing through my mind. Fuck, did she oversleep or... no... dammit. She wouldn't be out hunting this psychopath alone, would she? I already know the answer before the question even dares to leave my mouth.
Who the fuck am I kidding, of course she would.
Scarlett Lyssa has never met a rule she wouldn't bend if she thought the reward justified the risk.
It's both a frustrating and fascinating quality of hers.
If she's found a lead, she won't wait for backup.
She'll chase it alone because bringing in Ashmaker herself would guarantee headlines, commendations, and a direct line to the director's office.
The stubborn, ambitious menace won't be reined in.
Yet, somehow... that only seems to make her more infuriating, and also more impossible to ignore.
An image arrives uninvited into my mind of Scarlett standing in my office.
Defiant. Always full of her own superiority.
Those sharp mocha eyes dare me to challenge her, while she wears a fitted black suit, that’s tailored to perfection around her sensational curves, and those sexy as fuck shoes on her dainty feet.
Her long, dark hair is loose instead of pinned back, a rare sight, and just itching for my fingers to tangle within its depths.
I imagine crowding into her space just enough to steal the smugness from her cold, stern expression.
Testing how long she'd keep glaring before her breathing betrays her.
She'd never submit, she'd fight. Hell, she'd probably throw the first punch, and I'd enjoy every second of it.
Maybe if I were really lucky, she'd even scratch and bite like a feral animal.
God, how I would love to feel her sharp teeth and claws dig into my flesh.
Would she break the skin and savor my blood?
Would she moan if she got a taste of me?
In my mind's eye, I wrap my hand tightly around her neck, causing her breath to stutter, and her eyes to widen dramatically with shock, before forcing her body to bend over my desk.
My rough grip holds her in place, while my other hand pulls up her pencil skirt above her hips and rips her panties from her body.
I force her legs apart with mine, spreading her open to my eager view.
My large hand comes down hard on her pale flesh as I spank the shit out of her.
The delicate flesh instantaneously turns crimson and warms to my touch.
I shift back slightly to admire my handiwork, but know it's not nearly enough.
Her harsh panting, squeals of pain, and moans bursting with arousal, fill my ears as I squeeze one delicious globe and then the other, now using my grip on her neck to prevent her from being able to move an inch off the table.
"That's it, baby, submit to me, and I'll make you feel so fucking good.
" I lean over her back, allowing her to feel my long, hard cock press into her flesh, as I lick the side of her face before biting down on her cheek.
I allow my nose to slide across her skin, inhaling deeply of her scent, sage, lemon, with an undertone of white musk.
Fuck, I could eat her right up. "You're going to take all of me in this pretty, pink cunt.
I'm going to fill you to the brim, and if you're a good girl, I might even let you cum, Scarlett, but only if you please me. "
I loosen the button of my pants and yank down my zipper, freeing my weeping cock.
The engorged maroon tip presses against her warm flesh, and we both release a groan.
I force myself between her asscheeks, allowing my cock's length to move up and down, coating her in my precum.
She tries her best to buck me off of her, but I press my much larger body down on hers, flattening her on the surface of the table.
"Will you scream for me, hmmm, Scarlett?
Maybe you'll beg me to ride you like my own prized horse, little vixen. "
I press the tip of my cock against her ring of muscle, and she instantly stills below me. I slightly release the tightness on her neck and allow her to siphon air into her lungs. "Nooooo..." she cries, but pushes her backside into my body so my cock begins to breach her tight hole. Fuck, yes.
"Have you ever had your ass fucked, Scarlett, or is my cock about to be the first?
" I lean forward and press my lips against her jaw, rubbing my facial hair against her fair skin.
"Tell me truthfully, little vixen, am I about to go where no man has gone before, or are you secretly a little whore that loves to have all her holes filled? "
"Fuck... you..." she grunts, ever the willful little bitch, and it rips a chuckle from my lips.
"Oh, baby, I plan to. In fact, I plan to fuck your cunt so hard you'll be feeling me for days, and if you're not careful, I'll make sure I fuck that snarky mouth too.
" I shift my hips, dragging my cock from her tight hole and nudging against her swollen clit.
Once, twice, and on the third pass, I slam into her pussy, forcing her to take me to the hilt, as I grind my pelvis against her ass.
"Sooo... fucking... tight," I grit between my clenched teeth, giving her a moment to adjust to my long, thick length, before I pull back to the tip and slam inside her again and again.
Her sweet wetness coats my length from root to tip, and the corner of my lip pulls up with amusement at the knowledge that she wants this as much as I do.
The sounds of our skin slapping against each other are loud and obscene, and compete with Scarlett's desperate gasps.
The table begins to shift and screech against the linoleum flooring in time with my strokes.
"That's it, baby, you're taking me so well. My perfect slut."
Her pussy contracts and tightens around me, making my eyes roll to the back of my head as her body begins to push against me, urging me to fuck her faster and harder.
"Good girl, taking everything I have to give you.
I'm going to fill you to the brim with my cum, and you're going to thank me on your knees while cleaning my cock, Scarlett. "
A door slamming yanks me from my naughty thoughts, and I'm dragged back into the here and now, as I glance around the rapidly filling office in a moment of confusion.
"Fuck," I swallow my groan and discreetly adjust my hard, aching cock.
Equal parts frustration and fascination roll through me at the interruption.
Jesus Christ, what the fuck is the matter with me?
I clench my jaw hard enough to make it ache.
This woman is becoming a goddamn occupational hazard.
I need to get some semblance of control, or I'll end up risking my career over her, and that would be ludicrous.
No pussy is worth that, not even Scarlett's.
My phone vibrates against my palm before I can dwell on the dangerous direction of my thoughts, and breaks me out of my obsession with all things involving Scarlett's pretty pussy. The screen flashes: Dr. Stephens.
"Garnier," I growl into the phone, and the gravel in my voice surprises even me. I'm half annoyed that reality has had the audacity and impertinence to interrupt my daydreams, and relieved because I know they will lead to nothing except blue balls and fury.
"I think I've found something." The excitement in Stephens' tone slices cleanly through the fog in my head, and dispels all stray thoughts of fucking Scarlett Lyssa. "You need to come down to the morgue."
My pulse steadies as my fingers tighten around the phone, almost to the point of crushing it. "Is it Ashmaker?"
There's a brief pause where all I can hear is Stephens' heavy breaths. "I think you should see this for yourself."
I don't wait for another word, ending the call and already moving towards the doorway without a backward glance.
Whatever Stephens has found is important enough to pull him away from his usual detached professionalism.
That alone sets every instinct on edge, and sends a bolt of excitement racing through me.
As I shove my phone into my pocket, one thought refuses to loosen its grip.
If Scarlett really did run off chasing this killer alone... Then, for the first time since this investigation began, I'm not worried she'll miss the arrest. I'm worried Ashmaker has already found her.
Fuck. Where are you, Scarlett?