Ghost Moon

Page 18

As if he had been waiting all of his life.
He didn’t know how many minutes went by; time was meaningless. He didn’t know where they were anymore, nor did he care. He moved and moved, and felt as if he moved deeper into her with each touch, and it seemed that his heart and limbs would explode in a savage burst of fire that would consume the world. He refused these feelings in his mind, refused in his soul to let go, until he felt the eruption in the softness of her body, the sweet feminine cry in his ear…and then climax wracked through him with a vengeance.
Ripples, afterquakes, seemed to rip through them both as they lay panting, no words coming to their mouths, and still, he knew, if he tried to speak, he would be too breathless to do so. He didn’t want to speak, to think of time gone by, of the distance that lay between their real worlds. It was best just to take these moments, the darkness and shadows around them, and pretend that the feeling could last forever.
In time, she stirred. “Liam, I didn’t mean…”
“That was pretty good if you didn’t mean it,” he teased.
She laughed, lying against him, her fingers then playing down his chest. “I didn’t mean that…that I expected anything from you, you know.”
“Oh?” he said, heart thundering.
She laughed. “I didn’t mean it that way! I meant…things like that are so easy to say. I’ve always cared about you, and I think we would have, and…”
“I think so, too. And it was really a long, long time for all that tension to build up!” he told her.
She was so relaxed. It was homecoming as it should have been.
Homecoming to him.
No sadness, no fear.
Just the easy laughter and honesty that been theirs once when they’d been so young.
“Liam—”
He pressed his fingers against her lips. “Let’s take tonight, hmm?” he queried softly. Tenderly now, and with time and care, he pressed his lips to her forehead, to her throat and to her lips. “It was a lot of tension, you know. Tons of tension, and…”
She didn’t seem to mind. She was slow and lazy then, just as he pressed his point in an achingly slow and thorough manner. She did the same. He explored the length of her body, luxuriating in the perfection of each limb, the incredible sleekness of her skin, the wonder of her breasts, belly, calves, thighs and everything in between. And she in turn teased with an erotic touch that was equally slow and taunting, with whispered words against his flesh, until neither could bear it any longer and they became entangled in one another’s arms again, her legs locked around him, his heart thundering to a roar and his breath as frantic as a man deprived…for years.
He never stirred from the bed. He wasn’t about to suggest that he go home.
She never seemed to think about him leaving, either.
The moon was full out; it was what they called the wee small hours of the morning.
And still, of course, it was Key West. Some places were just closing. There were still those stumbling around on Duval Street. Workers—servers, managers, musicians—many cold sober, would be annoyed at those who drank themselves silly and had to be carried home by others.
Soon the sun would begin to rise.
In another hour or so, the early crew would be out. There wasn’t much of it. The docks would get busy quickly for the morning fishing charters, dive boats, snorkel boats and sightseeing trips. Restaurant personnel who worked breakfast venues would be struggling up, and the earliest coffee places would start to prepare for the day. Those on the night shift at the desks, bell men, bouncers, security workers and others would be bored, idling away their time in this strange in-between hour that came to Key West.
Time meant nothing to him, and everything. He embraced the darkness.
And yet, he enjoyed functioning, totally hidden within himself, in all the brilliance that the sun could possibly bring.
He stood for a moment, simply enjoying the time of the day. Enjoying where he stood, the sight, the memory, the scent.
He looked over at the house. His enjoyment faded, and he felt bitterness well inside him.
So now that prying bastard, Liam Beckett, was staying there, with her, in her room, sleeping with her.
It didn’t matter. He was protected, and they were all blind, and it was euphoria to watch them all, having no idea of all that went on that they didn’t see.
It was no matter, truly. The house was still his, and he needed Kelsey Donovan. There was no way that Beckett could be there all the time. Beckett was a cop. He had to go to work. He had to do things.
He smiled. He liked being in the house, and he would be in the house again. And it would be amusing because Beckett would be sleeping with her, and he’d changed the locks, and he was so self-confident, and he would never know.
Maybe something could happen to the cop.
He calmed himself. He inhaled.
And he inhaled the scent of death.
Ah, yes, different, but the expression was still there…. Of course, they were idiots. He’d thought they would have found the last victim by now.
He was too good at what he did.
It was more time to enjoy the expression on his victim’s face, more time to savor the kill….
More time to relish the scent of death that was like a teasing whisper on the air, mingling with the salt sea breeze. There and not there…
He inhaled deeply, and looked toward the house.
He would have his time with Kelsey Donovan.
6
“Kelsey, what do you want us doing about the packing crates and boxes?” Katie asked. “Some of them have been opened, but there’s packing stuff all over the place.”
“You should go through them all carefully,” Liam warned, making a face as he noted a pile of strawlike packing material sitting on top of a box. “Cutter might have had tiny things packed in with big things.”
“That’s true,” Kelsey said. She looked across the room at Liam. The Merlin house was alive as it hadn’t been in years. The cleaning party had arrived, and they were a dedicated crew. Heads had been dusted on the wall, floors had been swept and swabbed, carpets had been vacuumed and surfaces cleaned, shined, scrubbed and polished.
“Maybe we could just organize them all better,” she said, not sure what to do herself. She hadn’t had a chance yet to go through Cutter’s office and his desk, something that had been first on her agenda. But she’d felt obliged to join in with the cleaning crew. Katie was a whirlwind, while David and Sean followed her directives for moving heavy furniture. Ted and Jaden had taken it on themselves to work with the more delicate collectibles and art pieces in the house, dusting gently. Jonas and Clarinda had appointed themselves cleaners of the floors, and Liam had worked with Vanessa and Kelsey, trying to manage the organizational part of the work.
All of them were aware that Kelsey and Liam were acting like a couple, but no one said anything about it. They just all smiled to each other.
“How about if we move them all upstairs to the guest room?” Katie suggested. “There’s nothing up there but a bed and a dresser, and we can stack them around the walls. They’ll be out of the way, and then I can go through them one by one.”
Sean groaned softly and then laughed. “Up the stairs.”
“Oh!” Katie said. “That’s a bad idea.”
“No,” Liam told her firmly. “It’s a fine idea. Everyone will be very careful on the stairway. And it’s perfect. Most of them have a number or some kind of title on them. We can leave the identification sticking out, and you’ll know what’s in everything.”
“Yeah. I’ll dust up the packing down here,” David teased.
“Wait—the broom is in my hands at the moment, and I’ll be keeping it!” Vanessa said.
“I will follow around behind you to make sure nothing is dropped,” Jaden said.
“Works for me!” Ted told her.
“You’ll head right on over there and pick up those boxes, sir!” Jaden told him.
“Which box?” Ted asked Liam with a sigh.
“Let’s get started with the boxes and crates here, closest to the stairs. Then we can move on to the office,” Liam said.
He and Ted picked up one of the large boxes, Sean and David went for the next and Jonas determined he could take one of the smaller ones on his own. Kelsey stood by the stairway, her heart in her throat for several minutes, until she felt Katie’s arm around her shoulder. “They’re going to be very careful, Kelsey. It’s fine. Let’s put some of the snacks out—we can all run down to the beach for a few minutes to cool off and dust off and do some munching before firing up the barbecue. Come on.”
Kelsey nodded and turned away. They were all young, strong, and in good health. They could handle the boxes. And, once the boxes were organized, the task of going through them would not seem so daunting.
In the kitchen, she scrubbed her hands for the umpteenth time that day and delved into the refrigerator for dips and chips, cheese cubes, veggies and the other appetizers she had purchased. Katie started carrying things out the back door, setting up on the long picnic tables she had found in the family-room closet. By the time the boxes were moved and the last of the packing swept up, the backyard was set up. Kelsey was about to walk into the house when David and Katie came running out, screaming something about the last one in being a truly rotten and tough old conch.
They’d all worn bathing suits beneath the jeans, shorts and T-shirts they’d donned for cleaning, so clothing went flying as they raced for the water.
The beach itself wasn’t more than fifty feet, but there was a good sand bottom for a stretch, before the entangling mangroves and foliage began to take hold to the west, and the little peninsula curved back toward the mainland on the east. There was plenty of room for a group of ten to run in, splash, swim and torment one another.
“Am I dust-free yet?” Jaden asked, rising in four feet of water.
They all laughed. She still had a splash of black on her nose. “Grease!” Ted announced, walking over to rub his thumb over the top of her nose. “I got it, I got it, I got it—nope, nope, it’s on your cheek now!”