A Sexy Time Of It

A moment later, Max shook his head. “Julian Rhoades doesn’t look anything like these men.”

9

“HERE THEY COME NOW.” Rubbing his hands together, Linc gestured Neely over to the window and together they watched the small parade as the armchair detectives marched down the steps of Mabel Parish’s brownstone. It was located across the street on the farthest corner of the block, more than a dozen houses away from Neely’s.“How sweet of them to come so soon,” she said. Linc had called them only a matter of minutes earlier.

“How much are you going to tell them about Max?”

“As little as possible.”

Linc chuckled. “Good luck with that. If they get a whiff of something out of the ordinary about him, they’ll badger you until they find out the truth.”

He was right, she thought. These were, after all, the armchair detectives. Mabel led the way—or at least she was trying to. Each time Sam got even an inch ahead of her, she double-stepped to regain the lead. They were so competitive. The Queen of Hearts meets the Alpha Male. But Neely figured they were a bit sweet on each other, too stubborn to admit it, and that that was what caused the friction between them.

Neely looked back at Max. He was scowling now. For the last ten minutes, he and Deirdre had been sitting on the steps of the brownstone across the street, totally focused on what she figured was a handheld computer. She’d tried to break in on his thoughts, but he was blocking her. Except for that one second when his eyes had met hers. She’d known what he was thinking about then. Having mental sex with her. And she would have been more than willing.

She couldn’t stop wanting the man. And she couldn’t seem to get enough of him. Right now, she wished more than anything that they were in her bedroom, naked and alone together. It was at that moment that his eyes suddenly shifted and locked onto hers. A second later their minds were joined.

In that instant, she wasn’t in the front room of Bookends anymore. She was in her bedroom, and Max had her pressed against the door. His mouth was on hers, demanding and hungry. Even as her mind spun in a series of frantic cartwheels, her clothes vanished and so did his. Then his hand was between her legs, separating her fold, probing.

Now.

Soon.

He took his mouth on a fast desperate journey from her throat, to her breasts, past her waist and lower. Then using both hands, he spread her thighs and began to feast at her very center. With arrows of pleasure arcing through her, she threaded her fingers in his hair and, using the door for support, she angled her hips to give him greater access. His tongue pierced her.

God, he wanted her. As he sampled the hot, exotic flavors of her core, need spiked through him in jagged lightning flashes. He would never get enough of her, always crave her. Even now, when he could have anything he wanted, he had to have more. Rising, he grabbed her hips, lifted her so that he could plunge into her.

Swallowing her cry with his mouth, he drove into her again. Pleasure only fueled his needs as she matched him thrust for greedy thrust.

For this time, what they were sharing was all that mattered. When he felt her shatter, he poured himself into her.

Neely?

The sound came from far away, but the concern in the tone had the grayness of her vision clearing. She found that her eyes were locked with Max’s. He was sitting next to Deirdre on the steps across the street, and she was still standing in Bookends looking out the window.

You okay?

Never better. What just happened?

His lips curved. I was missing you.

Sam chose that moment to beat Mabel up the steps and through the front door of Bookends.

“Neely.”

Neely turned and her stomach sank when she saw that he was in cop mode.

“I’d like a word with you in private.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Neely saw that Mabel and Sally were double-teaming Linc, backing him into one of the leather couches. What the heck?

Sam urged her through the French doors that led to the kitchen. Shutting the doors behind him, he gestured her into one of the kitchen chairs. He remained standing, making her feel as if she were in an interrogation room.

“Now,” he said, “who is that man across the street?”

“Max Gale.” Max, she thought silently, you’d better get over here.

“What do you know about this Max Gale?”

It’s none of your business was what she wanted to say, but Sam was not going to be put off that easily. Beneath his smile, was a tough-as-nails cop.

“And before you start making things up, here’s what I know already,” Sam said. “I saw him hanging around the stoop across the street last night. I also saw him come out of your store this morning with that woman.”

She clasped her hands in front of her. “Are you spying on me, Sam?”

“We all take turns watching over you. Mabel says it’s what your grandmother would have wanted. She and Sally are a little freaked by Jack the Second. That’s one of the reasons we decided to research the Ripper murders. The other reason is because you fit the profile of the women he’s killed so far. You’re young, single and you lead a quiet, sheltered life.”

She lifted her chin. “A lot of women fit that profile.” And how dull we are, she thought.

“Each one of Jack the Second’s victims has invited him into their home. The last I saw of this Max Gale person last night, he was up by the park. Now he’s back this morning, exiting from your store. We don’t get many strangers on this street. So who is he?”

Neely considered her options, wishing that she and Linc had had some time to get their story straight before they’d been isolated. Since she was a crappy liar, she decided to stick as close to the truth as possible. “He’s investigating the Ripper murders.”

“He’s some kind of private eye?”

“Yes.” That wasn’t too much of a lie.

“You checked his ID?”

“Absolutely.”

“How did he get into your shop this morning?”

She felt her temper flare and that fueled her ability to say,

“He knocked on the back door, told me what he was doing, and after I checked his ID, I let him in.”

“You let a perfect stranger into your house?”

“I lectured her about that,” Max said easily as he strolled into the kitchen. “I’m Max Gale.”

“Sam Thornway.”

For three full beats, Neely watched the two men assess each other. The testosterone level in the room was almost palpable. Then Max turned to Neely. “Sam has some questions he wants to ask me, and I think your friend Linc could use some help in the front room.”

Knowing this was her cue to leave, Neely rose and left the room. But when she entered the bookstore, Linc didn’t seem to need any help at all. He was seated on one of the leather sofas with Mabel and Sally across from him. They were all sipping espressos. At the quick, questioning look she sent him, he beamed a smile at her and waved a hand. “I told them everything.”

“Everything?” To her horror the word came out on a squeak.

“All about your talent for psychic time travel,” Linc added.

“Not to worry.” Mabel rose and took both of her hands.

“When I left last night, I already suspected that you’d discovered your ability.”

Neely was surprised to see the sheen of tears in the older woman’s eyes.

“Your grandmother told me all about her travels. Oh, the places she went.”

“So she traveled, too? All she told me was that she had vivid dreams the same as me. She always called it the bookworm gene.”

Mabel guided Neely to the sofa and nudged her down. When Linc put a cup of espresso in her hands, she took a healthy sip.

“I told her she should tell you, but she always worried so about you,” Mabel said. “From the time you were little, you talked about your belief that you were born with a purpose—a mission. She believed that once you discovered you weren’t dreaming, you’d figure you were meant to do something with your gift. You’d try to find some kind of mission in the past.”

“And that would be a problem because…?” Neely asked.

“Because there’s always danger involved.”

“After she lost your father and mother in the plane crash, Cornelia was terribly afraid she’d lose you, as well,” Sally added.

Neely shifted her gaze to Sally. “You knew about this, too? Does Sam know?”

Sally nodded. “Cornelia confided in both of us shortly before she died. That’s when she made all of us promise that we’d watch you and do an intervention if and when you discovered and decided to use your psychic ability.”

“An intervention?” Neely felt the same flash of anger she’d experienced in the kitchen with Sam. She was surrounded by a group of well-meaning people who were all focused on protecting her. Three of them were looking at her right now. The other two were in the kitchen talking about her. How many protectors did one person need?

“You’re angry.” Sally fluttered her hands. “I’m saying it badly. It’s just that…” She trailed off and sent Mabel a beseeching look.

“Your grandmother was thinking of what was best for you,” Mabel said.

“Did she know how we got this ability?” Neely asked.

“She believed it’s genetic and that it skips every other generation. Several genetic traits follow the same pattern—color blindness, for example.” Pausing, Mabel dug a large padded envelope out of her leather satchel. “She left this for you in case you discovered your ability and decided to use it.”