On Fire

Page 2

She stumbled to a halt. “Are you kidding?”
He scowled for a variety of reasons, one of which was that her arm had slipped free of his grasp when she’d stopped abruptly. “Why would I?”
“Is he a recent parolee?”
“Escapee,” he corrected. “Seventeen years ago. He torched a bathroom in the courthouse during an appellate hearing and escaped in the ensuing clusterfuck. Haven’t seen hide nor hair of him since. But the supervisory deputy marshal in the Seattle office helped to apprehend Merkerson the first time, and she recognized the pattern.”
Darcy’s frown cleared. “Merkerson. That’s it! I’ve been trying to place the MO. He was way before my time, but we studied him briefly in school. What the hell has he been up to all these years? How has he stayed under the radar?”
“He might have been incarcerated under a false name or out of the country. Or he might have trained a junior asshat to follow in his nutjob footsteps. It doesn’t matter. We’re going to nail the bastard.” Grabbing her elbow again, Jared urged her toward the fire station.
“The hell it doesn’t matter. In just three weeks, he’s torn this town apart.”
He heard the fury underlying her words and made note of it. Personal involvement clouded judgment. One of the many reasons why spending time with her was a really bad idea. He was already feeling the effects. While his brain was working the case, his body was straining toward hers, wired and revved and hot to screw her raw.
They were about to cross the street to the fire station when he urged her into a corner diner instead.
“I missed lunch,” he explained, hoping low blood sugar, not his hormones, was responsible for handicapping his common sense. He could fix the former.
“I just ate. But I’ll grab a shake.”
Another mark in her favor, he thought. A woman who might not be counting every damn calorie she put in her mouth.
He nearly groaned as visions of other things she could do with her mouth swept through his testosterone-muddled mind. If he’d needed any proof that he was working too hard and not playing enough, he had it now. He should take the blond deputy up on her offer and ease himself down a notch.
Reaching the counter, Jared grabbed a menu from beside the register and ran a quick glance over the limited offerings. It was a burger-and-fries joint, with a couple salads thrown in for the calorie-conscious.
A waitress in a ’50s uniform with “Ginny” embroidered over her heart approached with her notepad and a smile. “Hey, Darcy. You brought the Fed with you. Bet Miller’s in a snit. I know how he gets when outsiders come in.”
“How do you know everything?” Darcy looked genuinely impressed. “I just found out that the Marshals Service was here not more than five minutes ago.”
Ginny shrugged. “Prime location for news. Welcome to Lion’s Bay, Marshal.”
“Deputy,” he corrected, his attention returning to the menu. “Thanks.”
“How are you doing?” Darcy asked Ginny with the easy familiarity of old friends.
“Better. Just had a new security system installed this morning. It’s supposed to sense heat and alert the alarm company. And I had our existing fire alarms rechecked a couple days ago to make sure everything is working properly.” Ginny jerked a thumb over her shoulder at the bulky-looking chef visible through the kitchen pass-through. “Tim joked about retiring on the insurance if the place burned. He slept on the couch last night for that one.”
“Oh, hell. Ginny, I’m sorry. I—”
Jared stepped into the conversation before she could say anything further. “Proactive, thoughtful steps, Ginny. Good job. If your burgers are half as good as your planning, I’ll order a double.”
Ginny grinned at the praise. “Big strapping man like you, absolutely.”
“Suggestions?”
“Depends. Hot or sweet?”
“Both. I’m starved.”
“One chipotle bacon BBQ double-cheeseburger and fries coming up. Everything on it?”
“Yeah. And two of whatever kind of shake Inspector Michaels wants. All to go.”
Jared paid the bill, waving off the five-spot Darcy pulled out of her pocket.
Closing the register, Ginny stepped away to make the shakes, leaving Darcy standing there with a grim expression. He gestured her over to a red vinyl booth by the window.
“So,” he began when she sat. “How often has Lion’s Bay had cause for the Feds to come in?”
One of her brows arched and she sized him up. The caveman in him beat his chest at the challenge. Damn it, he hadn’t been this interested in a woman in a long, long time.
It was a good thing she had some fire to her. When he got her beneath him, he wasn’t going to be gentle…
Fuck that. What the hell was he thinking? He was not going there.
“Just once,” she answered.
“When?”
“Three years ago.”
“Why?”
She hesitated just a second, but he caught it. “A local woman was murdered.”
“What made that interesting?”
Her lips pursed and her eyes took on a hardness that startled him.
“Don’t glare at me, Darcy. It’s a valid question. The Feds have bigger fish to fry than a small-town murder. What caught their interest about this one?”
She exhaled in a rush. “The MO was a match to a serial killer they were looking for.”
From the moment Darcy had spotted Jared Cameron in the police station, she’d known he was going to tear through her orderly life like a whirlwind.
His looks had knocked her back first. It had taken everything she had to keep her mouth from falling open when he’d walked up to her epitomizing the description of tall, dark, and dangerous. Then, he’d swept her right out the door, his touch sending tingles racing up her arm and through her body. Now she was sitting across from him, faced head-on with how seriously freakin’ delicious he was. Her mother would call him a “cool drink of water,” but Darcy wouldn’t. Every time their eyes met, her mouth went dry. Despite his purely professional discourse, the way he looked at her with those electric blue eyes was with raw animal hunger.
And damned if she didn’t want him right back. It was a primal response she couldn’t suppress. Socially, he was gruff and abrupt, so she was inclined to imagine him screwing her senseless without talking. Sweaty, grasping, grinding fucking. That’s what he radiated with his agitated energy and fierce gaze, and she was sold. It had taken his force-of-nature energy to make her realize she’d been dead for a while. A no-holds-barred one-night stand was just what she needed to knock the dust off.
“Which serial killer?” he asked in that clipped rough voice that brought to mind golden whisky in a crystal tumbler. He brushed back a lock of inky black hair with a careless hand, and she couldn’t help but notice the veins coursing along his powerful forearms and biceps. He was perfectly built to her tastes—lean, ripped, and not the slightest bit bulky.
“Some guy from the Midwest who carved Mayan symbols in his victims’ torsos.”
“The Prophet.” Jared leaned back in the booth, the casual pose doing little to soften him. “Counting down to doomsday. Sick fuck.”
Her brows rose. “Is that your professional opinion?”
“In my professional opinion, he was a whack job. And so is this guy torching your town.”
She almost smiled. Jared Cameron was a blunt object, no doubt about it, but it made her feel better knowing he was here. She couldn’t fathom anyone getting anything over on him.
“Listen.” His fingertips drummed on the table. “You can’t carry around guilt and blame for these fires.”
“I’m not.”
“Bullshit. The waitress tells you she’s taking steps to protect her property and you start apologizing like it’s your fault.”
Darcy’s hackles rose. “This is a small town, Deputy. People around here aren’t exactly rolling in the dough. She spent—”
“The name’s Jared. Use it.”
“You’re just full of charm, aren’t you?”
“You don’t want charm, and we’re talking shop.”
“How the hell would you know what I want?”
“Because I want the same thing.” He leaned forward and lowered his voice, his blue eyes burning like flame. “I want it so badly my dick’s been half hard since the moment I saw you.”
Arousal swept through her like a sudden fever, flushing her skin. No man had ever talked to her so crudely, so there’d never been a chance for her to learn it turned her on. Now she knew, and she couldn’t help but wonder if he’d be vocal in bed. Just thinking about him growling raunchy and obscene statements while screwing her made her ache with desire. She struggled not to squirm, but she couldn’t resist goading him for more. “And what is it we both want, Deputy?”
He didn’t move a muscle for a moment. Then his lips curled on one side in a wickedly carnal smile. His eyes glittered with fierce, hard lust. “You want a sheet-clawing, back-arching, mind-blowing fuck, and I want to pound my cock into you until I’ve come my last drop.”
Darcy sagged into the seat back, her hand lifting to her throat. “Whew.”
Her pussy throbbed greedily, the tender folds slickening with her growing hunger. She’d known the man less than twenty minutes, but she was suddenly quite committed to knowing him even better. Well, his body, at least…“You’re on. My workday ends at six.”
The deputy’s nostrils flared. Anticipation sharpened the blades of his cheekbones and made the precisely drawn lines of his beautiful mouth harsh. She could say, in all honesty, that he was the most gorgeous man she’d ever seen.
“I’m gonna regret this,” he muttered, scowling at her.
Oddly, his reluctance about wanting her only spurred her desire to have him. It betrayed how intense his attraction to her was, so much so that he couldn’t fight it even though he wanted to. And she responded as any red-blooded woman would to the ferocious sexual need of a deliciously handsome, potently masculine creature: she provoked him.