The Hangman (The Forgotten Files 3)

Carson smiled. “Footage was sent to me. Like manna from heaven. I couldn’t pass on it. Which one of you pulled it off my site?”

“Who sent it to you?” Novak asked.

“A fan. I received a CD in the mail. Old-school, but effective. And I can put it back up.”

“So you still have the CD?” Novak asked. “I’d like to see it.”

“Again, I need you to get a warrant.”

“I’ll get one,” Novak said.

“Until you do, you both need to leave. I have work to do.”

“I’m asking you to not upload the video again,” Novak said.

“Freedom of speech,” Carson said.

“When I came in here,” Julia said carefully, “it was strictly a fact-finding mission. But it’s growing more personal for you by the second. If I find out you’re hiding the identity of the killer, I’ll charge you as an accessory to murder.”

“Is that a threat?” Carson asked.

“Nope,” she said, smiling. “It’s a statement of fact.”

He folded his arms. “And you two can count on one thing.”

“What’s that?” Julia asked.

“He’s going to kill again.”

“Why do you say that?” Novak asked.

“One death of a woman nobody cared about falls out of the news quickly. Two deaths, a little harder to ignore, and three—well, that’s a pattern no one can overlook.”

Julia was quiet during the drive back to her place. Seeing Carson’s callous infatuation with death shouldn’t have troubled her so deeply, but it did. Lately she was all raw nerves. When Novak suggested he drive her home and she retrieve her car from the station in the morning, she’d agreed.

When Novak parked, she reached for the door handle. “Keep me updated.”

He turned toward her but made no move to stop her. “I’m an open book.”

A smile formed on her lips. “Written in what ancient language?”

White teeth flashed in the dark. “Pot calling the kettle black, Julia.”

“No arguments here. Maybe keeping our personal secrets is best.”

“Why do you say that?” His tone turned low, deep, serious.

“The truth has a way of spoiling things, so I tend to avoid it.”

“There’s no hope without truth. It’s ugly, but it’s better to know.”

She shook her head as she shifted her gaze to a point in the distance. A part of her wanted to talk to him. Confess her fears. Bare her scars. But that part was overruled by too many well-seasoned barriers. “Be careful what you ask for.”

This time he laid a hand on her shoulder. “What truth are you hiding, Julia?”

For a second, she was quiet as she absorbed the heat of his touch. Here, alone with him, she thought maybe she could be more herself. Not be so on guard. But as she lowered the veil, she caught herself. “Nothing too interesting.”

He was taking her in. “You’re interesting to me.”

She arched a brow. “That’s because you want to get laid again.”

He didn’t break contact. “Guilty as charged.”

She liked his touch. It was steady. Nonthreatening. Gentle. “If you promise not to talk about feelings, you can come up.”

He leaned forward and kissed her on the lips. When she leaned into the kiss, his hand went to her waist. “Let’s go upstairs.”

He’d made no promises about the long term. Neither had she. But that was good. Better that way. “Right.”

He shut off the ignition and followed her up the back staircase to her apartment. Desire tingled in her as she tossed her keys aside and turned to face him. He didn’t rush toward her, though she sensed a simmering heat that hinted at how much he wanted her.

She dropped her purse to the floor and shrugged off her jacket. “I’m not made of china, Novak.”

He closed the distance between them and cupped her face in his hands as he kissed her again. There was nothing angry or punishing about his touch. He wanted her to want this. She threaded her fingers through his hair and pressed her breasts to his chest.

“This is all I’ve been able to think about since the last time,” he said.

“One-track mind.”

He traced his hand along her neck, then outlined her collarbone. Each time he touched her, he was gentle, his desire securely in check. That restraint made her want him more.

She unknotted his tie, pulled it free of his collar, and tossed it on the floor. She unbuttoned his shirt, smiling when she saw the white undershirt. “My, my, Mr. Clean.”

He pulled his shirt and undershirt from his waistband but let her shrug the shirt from his shoulders. He traced a finger down her chest to the V of her sweater. He cupped her breast, and her mouth went dry.

“Where can I put my weapon?” Novak asked.

“No pun intended.” She nodded toward a dresser by the door. “I put mine in the top drawer.” She unclipped her weapon and opened the drawer.

He laid his beside hers along with his badge, phone, and cuffs. She closed the drawer and locked it. Quickly he pulled her into his arms, and she stiffened. Not a flinch, but a tensing.

He kissed her, his hands on her hips. Again, she sensed he controlled his desire. She tugged off his undershirt, smiling as she thought that Mr. Clean had a hot body.

He grabbed her hand and led her toward her bedroom. “Not so fast this time.”

She followed, wanting to feel the desire and get lost in an orgasm. She was in a rush. He wasn’t. “I thought you liked it that way.”

“I like it this way, too.” In her room he kissed her before reaching for the hem of her sweater and pulling it over her head. Gently, he traced the edge of her bra and then unfastened the snap between her breasts. He slid off the bra and lightly kissed her breasts. She pulled in a breath as she reached for the buckle of his pants and undid it. The zipper slid down, and she pushed her hand into his pants and cupped his hard erection.

He groaned as he pulled her hand away. “Taking our time, remember?”

“We can do that later.”

He shook his head. “I want to enjoy you.” He unfastened her belt, and the buckle slipped free of its sheath. The sharp tip glinted. “Surprise, surprise.”

“Never a dull moment.”

He tossed the buckle aside and slid the denim down over her slender hips. She stepped out of the pants and pushed them aside. She stood naked before him, exposed, a state that did slightly unsettle her. The last few times it had been dark, hurried, and with enough desire to crowd out fear.

Now, he wanted to go slow? Fine. He’d suffer.

She wrapped her arms around him, savoring the way the hairs on his chest teased her nipples. She shoved off his pants and heard them fall to the floor. He stepped out of them as she pulled him toward the rumpled sheets of her bed. He sat, and she crouched in front of him and slowly ran her hand along the inside of his naked thighs. She tugged off one sock, then leaned forward and kissed the inside of his leg before kissing the tip of his erection. He sucked in a breath, burying his hands in her long hair and gripping it in a tight fist. She pulled back and removed the second sock.

“You said slow,” she said.

“Taking off socks will never be the same.”

She licked the inside of the other leg and ran her tongue hungrily along his erection. When he groaned, she did it again before she pushed him back on the bed, straddling him. She brushed against his erection but only enough to tease. They were going slow after all, as he wanted.

She licked his nipple and then kissed him on the lips, skimming her hand over his flat belly.

He placed his hands on her bare hips. “You’re going to make me regret slow.”

“Your choice, not mine.”

With a grumble, he rolled her on her back. “Next time, we will go slower. Right now, I can’t get enough of you.”

For an instant, she lost the sense of control and tensed. Cold fear threatened to extinguish the fire. He hesitated.

Strong fingers caressed her clitoris in small circles as he kissed her on the lips. Round and round he went, coaxing the sparks into a flame. She relaxed back into the pillows and groaned.

He nudged his knee between her legs. “Open for me.”

She didn’t hesitate and spread her legs. He pressed his erection just inside her. She was wet and tight, but having him close still tugged at bad memories. Closing her eyes, she ran her hands over his back, grabbing his buttocks and trying to hang on to her desire. Her throat tightened with tension as the beauty of this moment slipped away.

He thrust fully inside her now, kissing her on the lips. “Don’t go anywhere. Stay with me. Open your eyes.”

She gripped his shoulders and opened her eyes. She met his gaze, dark with longing but with no traces of anger.

“It’s you and me,” he said. “No past. Only right now.”

She nodded, hating the tears that welled in her eyes and spilled over the side of her cheeks.

“I can stop,” he whispered.

“No. Don’t.”

He moved inside of her and began to rub her center. Slowly, desire flashed and urgency returned. She tipped her hips toward him and ground into his palm as he slid in and out at a steady rhythm. Heat flared. Her body built toward the sweet release she realized she now needed from him. And then in a blink, an explosion washed over her, and she gripped his back. He shoved deeper into her, and they both came.

When he collapsed against her, his heart thumped quick and hard, matching her own beat for beat. Absently, she traced her hand over his back, now slick with sweat.

“Not bad, old soul.”

He grinned against the hollow of her neck. “Like to think I have moves.”

“You do.”