LifeoftheParty Read online

  This was Doug. Doug. Who else could make her feel this way? She slipped her hand to his lips, touching the tongue tasting her. It was hot and cool and persistent, and when he caught her finger and nipped it, sucking it into his mouth, that gesture seemed more intimate than if they were both naked, lying in each other’s arms. It was then he finally released her, and with her clit still throbbing, dripping with satiety, he slowly kissed his way up her fevered body to the curve of her jaw where just as suddenly he stopped. He pulled back slightly, staring at her.

  With her breasts still exposed, her skirt still pushed around her hips, his hands still holding her up, Gina was completely under his power and the idea terrified her. Terrified and thrilled her. And like he had so many times before, she wanted his massive cock pummeling her, fucking her senseless. But even more she wanted him inside her, all of him—mind, body, heart, and she wanted it with a hunger so overwhelming she couldn’t let it show on her face. Unlike the man who was staring at her, his expression marked by an intensity she hoped to God wasn’t contempt.

  Then all at once he kissed her, his hands ravaging her hair, combs dropping away to send it spilling about her shoulders, his mouth musky with her taste, his cock pulsing against her belly. She snaked her hand into his trousers, touching it. He jolted and just as quick as before, he whisked her around, a look of horror on his face.

  “I have to go,” he said.

  Gina grabbed his arm. “Doug! Don’t leave. We have to talk. Believe it or not, it’s life or death. You have to help me.”

  He took a step back. “Get someone else.”

  “There is no one else.”

  But she knew the fact there always had been someone else was why he was leaving now. “Doll, you haven’t changed a bit. Still in summation mode.” He bolted out the door.

  “Doug.” Gina stumbled, fumbling with her ruined clothes as she flew to the window. “Doug!” But he was already in his car, his arm flung across the seat as he fishtailed down the drive. She ran to the window opposite, seeing him whip out into the street, nearly colliding with an oncoming truck. Doug stomped the gas, tearing away.

  “Damn,” she muttered, falling back against Roark’s desk. What the hell would she do now?

  * * * * *

  Doug careened through traffic, barreling up the street to the River Line Light Rail’s parking lot, wedging the car into a slot near a clump of evergreens. He grabbed a towel out of his gym bag, yanking down his zipper a moment before his cock near exploded into his hand. With Gina’s taste on his lips, he emptied himself into terry.

  Holy fuck, how he still wanted her.

  He closed his eyes, replaying the last few minutes as he regained his breath. Two and a half years later she was still a goddess, a goddamned bitchy Venus, snaring him with one blink of those sherry-colored eyes. He ached for that gorgeous ass, those thighs like velvet, a pussy so deep he could sink every inch of himself. And those tits, heavy and overflowing in his hands…how he loved to bury himself against her. How he loved the curve of her neck, the silkiness of her chestnut hair, how she sighed when he kissed her.

  How he had loved her. And how she’d ripped his heart right out of him.

  He opened his eyes. To his right, a woman and her kid were getting out of their car. And staring dead at him.

  He closed his jacket over himself, grinning. She slammed the door and, grabbing the boy’s hand, scuttled away.

  Doug swiped, zipped, tossing the towel over the seat. He started the car and pulled out, heading toward Route 130 South and Camden.

  “Jesus Christ,” he said, his hand roaming for his flask.

  * * * * *

  FIFTH DISTRICT, CITY OF CAMDEN POLICE DEPARTMENT

  DETECTIVE UNIT

  1:29 P.M.

  “Welland!”

  He turned, scanning the length of the big room. Past the rows of desks, past the myriad detectives and their accompanying effluvia stood Captain Halchak, his arms crossed, a scowl on his face.

  “Yes sir?”

  “What are you doing here?”

  Doug closed a desk drawer with his knee. “Just picking up a few things. Seen Stewart, by the way?”

  “Stewart’s been reassigned for the duration.” The captain backed into his office. “Now get over here.”

  Doug dropped some cuffs in his pocket and, swiveling around the desk, went to him.

  “Did you see her?” Halchak asked without preamble.

  Doug closed the door but didn’t sit. “Yeah. This morning.”

  “And?”

  He cleared his throat. Just the thought of her shot an ache to his groin. “We didn’t really have time to talk.”

  The captain’s brow rose. “But you’ll be getting together with her again,” Halchak said, not as question.

  “She wants to.”

  “You have to. Seems she really is in some deep shit.” He sat back. “I take it you’ve heard of Jack Falco.”

  “The congressman? The one they call ‘the ladies’ choice’? Yeah, a big player. I think I’ve even voted for him once or twice.”

  Halchak snorted. “So you do take your head out of your ass sometimes.”

  “Every now and then,” Doug said, dropping to a chair. “You know, after I’m done beating off to the porn sites.”

  Another snort. “Anyway, he’s primed to toss his hat in the ring for governor next run.”

  “Yeah? So what’s this got to do with Gina?”

  Halchak raised a brow. “I guess you really didn’t have time to talk. She’s his chief of staff.”

  Now it was Doug’s turn at surprise. “Last I heard she was working for the DNC, you know, the Democratic party, down in Washington.”

  “You need to update your surveillance, bucko, she left them for K Street.” Halchak checked his screen again. “Says here that’s where she hooked up with Falco, lobbying for the DNA Identification Clearance Act, the bill he co-sponsored.”

  Doug’s fists tightened. So that’s where she’d been, trailing after that show pony? He wanted to break the fucker’s neck. He shifted in the chair. “Again, what’s it got to do with Gina?”

  “Falco, as you might know, has been trying for years to get DNA identification out there as normal procedure in capital cases. But it hasn’t made some people too happy. I’m sure you’ve heard of prisoners locked up for years, getting their DNA analyzed, and it proves them innocent. Well, Gina Bardone has defended about a dozen or so of these cases, and every one of them got sprung.”

  “Why am I not surprised,” Doug mumbled.

  “What?”

  “Nothing.”

  Halchak eyed him but continued. “Anyway, that’s what brought her and Falco together, more or less. And that’s what also made Gina more visible. And more of a target.”

  Doug leaned forward in his chair. “What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying someone wants to kill her.”

  His breath caught. It was still there. He wanted to choke the life out of anyone even threatening a hair on her head. His hands gripped the armrests. “You better explain yourself, Captain.”

  Halchak eyed him coolly. It was clear he’d been tested by far worse. “So far all it’s been is emails. But there’s a big rally coming up this Sunday where Falco’s officially announcing he’s running for governor, and they figured this is where whoever’s threatening her will make their move. Because of his impending announcement, the state police will give him protection if he wants it, especially because of this rally. So he’s got a plain-clothes out with him for all public appearances.”

  “Wait a minute.” The image of Gina with his pistol took on new meaning. “You mean that bastard gets protection but he’ll just let her hang?”

  “He’s not letting her hang. Since Camden, and Riverboro where the rally’s going to be, fall into Falco’s congressional district, he can get her local protection. She got to pick and she picked you.” Halchak’s phone rang. “Now every second you wait you leave her exposed. I suggest
you get to it.” He turned to the ringing phone. Doug stood up, summarily dismissed.

  He left the captain’s office in a daze. She picked you. It made a good story. He could almost believe it. Yet no matter how much he still hurt, the thought of anyone out to harm Gina nearly sent him into a blind rage. He had no choice. He had to go to her. And once he did, if this afternoon was any indicator, he knew there was no way he could keep himself from her.

  Doug snaked through the rows of desks in the detective unit, passing his own and Stewart’s, both vacant for the foreseeable future, and took the elevator to the basement. He walked the long hallway to the last door at the end. Forensics, it said, Lateesha Ibayah, MD, DO.

  She was a strikingly lovely woman with deep-green eyes and a luscious full mouth, and Doug always wondered why she chose to keep herself hidden in the basement laboratory of a police station, dealing with bodies and blood smears. She was at her computer, working on one report or another, the light from her desk lamp illuminating her coffee-colored skin, the lab coat draped over her chair allowing him to appreciate the generous curves of her rigorously toned body. When she saw him approach, she looked up and winked, Doug smiling with long-overcome regret, remembering a time when he was just a bit in love with her.

  She leaned back in her chair. “Well, well, look who it is. Hey, party boy.”

  Doug sank his hands into his pockets. How could he ask her this? He could hardly think it, let alone say it, but he knew he had to. And somehow he knew she’d understand. “Listen, Doc, I need a favor.”

  “As if I’m not busy enough.” Then she laughed, shaking her head. “Oh all right, where’s the body?”

  “No body. This time it’s personal.” He shrugged, unaccustomedly abashed. “Look, I don’t know how to put this, but I haven’t been, well… Okay, let me just say my choice of female company lately hasn’t been—”

  “The kind you’d bring home to Mama? Hmm. I see perfectly, Dougie. And let me guess.” She stuck a slender finger to her chin. “There’s this girl you just met, and you’d like to—”

  “In ways even you can’t even imagine.” He pressed his knuckles to her desk. “So, can you give me some tests on the QT?”

  “Oh Dougie,” she said, sliding up her sleeves as she rose from the desk, “I’ll even do it myself.” She crossed to a cabinet, pulling out blood collection tubes, needles and a rubber tourniquet. “Have a seat, Lieutenant. When I’m done with you, there won’t be a fluid of yours unexamined or a disease left to rule out.” As she jabbed the needle in, he winced. “Oh yeah, I’m going to enjoy the hell out of this.”

  * * * * *

  HOLLY HOUSE INN—RIVERBORO

  THURSDAY 31 OCTOBER

  6:18 A.M.

  Gina stumbled toward the door, wrapping her robe around her. Logic assured her if the killers were coming they’d hardly knock. Still, she had mace in her pocket and a steak knife in her hand she’d grabbed from the tiny kitchen.

  “Who is it?” she asked, her heart pounding.

  “It’s me,” Doug answered. “Open up.”

  Relief washed over her, but so did hesitancy. Obviously, he still wanted her, but could he possibly still care? The very thought of it left her breathless. And perplexed about what to do next. She laid her cheek against the door, her hand on the knob. “So you don’t hate me after all?”

  She heard him sigh heavily. “Just open up.”

  Chapter Three

  HOLLY HOUSE INN—RIVERBORO

  THURSDAY 31 OCTOBER

  6:22 A.M.

  When Gina opened the door, her heart leapt as it always did when she saw him. But Doug wasn’t looking at her. He was looking at the knife in her hand. He grabbed her wrist.

  “If I were coming for you, doll,” he said, the blade dangling between them, “do you really think this would stop me?”

  He was inches from her, her robe half-opened, exposing the marks of the day before. So this is the way he’s playing it, she thought. She dropped the knife, glaring at him. “Are you coming for me, Doug?”

  The hand at her wrist tightened. He pulled her to him, his body taut with tension. “What do you want from me?”

  Gina wrenched herself loose, clasping the front of her robe. “I thought I wanted your help. Now I’m not so sure.”

  His gaze, deep blue in the thin light, wavered. “Yeah you are or you wouldn’t have opened the door. So start talking, doll. I’m all ears.”

  She always marveled how he could shift from hot to cold with such breathtaking efficiency, but this time it only irritated her. “Why sure. The hell with preliminaries. Let’s get right down to cases.”

  His mouth crooked. “You thinking maybe we should we go to Serious Joe first? I could buy you a latte, maybe some scones? We could reminisce over old times.”

  Gina laughed harshly. “Maybe we should. Then maybe after you could get on with your life.”

  Doug’s face went scarlet, his lips stretching into a thin, tremulous line, and for a scant second Gina thought he would hit her. “Oh come on, sweetheart, you could do a hell of a lot better than that.”

  Didn’t she know it. Because hadn’t she been angsting over this moment for days? Weeks? Maybe even for the last two years? Ever since that night in his hospital room. How it nearly killed both of them when she walked out the door. But thinking of that wouldn’t help her now.

  She met his gaze. “Look, outside of the obvious, I know you don’t give a damn about me, but I had this crazy idea I could still trust you no matter what’s happened between us. Because underneath I always figured you for a good cop who still gave a damn about finding the bad guys. But I guess I was wrong.”

  When his eyes narrowed Gina knew he was weighing the pros and cons, assessing whether she was worth the risk. After a few moments he slid his hands into his pockets. “Then go ahead. Start from the top. I’m listening.”

  She relaxed, if only marginally. Because for the next few minutes she fully intended to believe she was only the congressional aide and Doug was nothing more than a local cop. And if she played it straight, if she hit all the right notes, she might believe it long enough to walk out of the room unscathed. Then she looked at him.

  Who was she kidding.

  “Excuse me a minute,” she said, escaping to the bedroom.

  Gina closed the door and threw off her robe and nightgown. Half-naked was no way to play it with Doug. Yet as she slid on underwear, jeans and a sweater, she knew she could be encased in concrete and if Doug wanted at her, he’d find a way to get in. In fact, it was exactly what she was counting on. She shivered, feeling his heat from the other room. She ran to scrub her teeth and face and drag a brush through her hair, catching herself in the bathroom mirror. Her sweater just covered his marks at the swell of her breasts, her hair the one he’d left on her neck. She closed her eyes, her heart rate kicking up at the thought of him. Can’t do that now, she told herself. I have to keep a clear head, if only for Jack’s sake. She dug into her purse, pulling out a wad of papers and, grabbing her BlackBerry, returned to the living room.

  He stood at the mantel of the little fireplace, scrolling through his phone. Good God, Gina thought, he was so big. Maybe not inordinately, six foot two or three perhaps. But next to her, who just came to his shoulders in bare feet, his heady mix of height and musculature, his voice a growl of raw, roughened silk, recalling the timbre of it in her ear and how it made her pulse race, and now with him so… She shivered again. Jesus, he could crush her with one hand. He looked over, shooting her a quick up-and-down.

  “So you work for Jack Falco,” he said impassively.

  Inwardly, she sighed. She knew him well enough to know the fact of it chafed at him, but she was also aware he’d hardly own up to it. “Yes. I met him in D.C. when I was lobbying for his bill.”

  “The DNA Identification Clearance Act.”

  That surprised her. “You know it?” she asked, sliding to the sofa.

  “Halchak told me.”

  “Ah.” S
he watched him cross to the chair and sit down. So it was a good move approaching his captain first. At this stage he’d certainly want confirmation on anything she’d tell him. “I’d been heading the prison reform group Stop the Loop.”

  “The anti-recidivism project.”

  “Yes.” Again, she was surprised. But how silly. There was a huge federal prison in Camden. “I guess I must have impressed him, because when the bill passed he asked me to come work for him.”

  “As his chief of staff.”

  He had done his homework. “Quite a coup, because he was planning on running for governor. Part of my agreement was if he won, he’d carry the position into his administration.” She reached for a piece of paper in her lap. “Then last summer, some sicko sent him this.”

  Doug took the paper, a reprint of an email from yourbigfan201.There’s still a Death Penalty in NJ for SOME people.

  He looked up. “What’s the trace?”

  “An internet cafe in Philadelphia from a Yahoo! account.”

  “Were there more?”

  “No, so we pretty much ignored it. He’d gotten the random crazy stuff before. But when I began getting some press as his chief, they started coming to me.” She reached for another slip. “There was this one.” DNA = do not arrest. “Again from the same Yahoo! account, from a guest computer at a conference center in Cherry Hill.” She dropped some more to the sofa space between them, grateful for the few feet of demilitarized zone. As Doug shuffled through them, she added, “They’re all the same, all referring to the Clearance Act, all sent to the Congressional District office’s email from public, untraceable computers.”

  Doug picked up the last one. Liberty for NONE and Justice for ALL. He tossed it back to the sofa. “Well, it’s obvious enough. Someone was pissed because the Act helped someone get sprung. You had to expect it.” He sat back in the chair, splaying his legs slightly.