Beneath the Layers Read online

  And her closer?

  The words rattled him. He was supposed to be a professional. There was nothing professional in how he felt about her. She might be just the woman to rid him of his unrelenting want of Staff Sergeant Ellis, even if doing so was for the case. What-ifs rolled through his head. What if I pull her to my lap? What if I drag her back inside to the nearest restroom? What if I take her to my car and—

  “You’d make a great reporter.” Her light laugh punctuated the sentence.

  Kurt dipped his head to one side. “Why do you say that?”

  Midge averted her gaze, looking shy. More doubts about her resurfaced.

  “You’re very good at putting people at ease and getting them to talk with you. I’m not much of a talker. I prefer to keep to myself.”

  “And yet you’re with them.” He jerked his head toward the building.

  “They’re more a nuisance than friends. They came into my life one day and I haven’t figured out a graceful way to get rid of them, although I came pretty close to showing them the door tonight.” She shrugged one shoulder. “I let myself be talked into coming here and was hating every second…until I met you.”

  Midge turned his way, sliding her hand over his chest. His cock hardened and heartbeat accelerated.

  “I so want to kiss you,” she whispered, leaning in.

  Kurt slipped his hand around her waist and met her halfway. He dusted his lips across hers. The warmth of her breath against his mouth felt like a caress. She closed her eyes with her sharp intake of breath. He waited, not moving. Her small sigh sifted through him. They eased into the kiss. She tasted of warm wine and sweetness. His brain shut down with every curl of her tongue over his. His body demanded full contact. That small sound of pleasure deep in her throat didn’t help. He dragged her astride his lap, cupped her fine ass and pulled her close.

  “There are much more comfortable places to do this.” She cupped his face and rubbed her thumb through his fake beard. He prayed the sucker would stay in place.

  “I agree.”

  He kneaded her ass, torn between thrusting against her and pulling her off so they could leave. She tossed her head back on a gasp, exposing the long column of her neck. He traced his tongue from the well of her throat back to her lips. She turned her head, avoiding his kiss. “I need to let my companions know I’m leaving.”

  Midge kissed him again, slow and sweet, then pulled away and pressed her forehead against his. Belowdecks, his body throbbed in time with his racing pulse. Here was the come-on he’d expected. The woman was a skilled tease. None of his past liaisons had ever managed to pull this type of response from him. She had to be his target. He had her right where he wanted.

  Really? His conscience chortled.

  He concurred that she was the one in control, but what better way to get the goods on her? They’d share a bed, she’d make her standard blackmail move and they’d have her dead to rights. With the lights off, he could obscure his use of a condom. Though disposal would be tricky, he always carried a plastic bag with him.

  By the end of this night, he’d know her full name and address, something her victims claimed they didn’t know. The best description they could give was it was a house like all the rest around it and sparsely decorated inside. Sometimes she took them to a motel. A search of her purse should get him what he needed. She’d have to go to the bathroom at some point.

  Kurt slipped his hands from her panties and eased her back, tugging her skirt into place. “Why don’t you wait here? I’ll go inside and tell your pests that you’re leaving.” He brushed his hands down her thighs. “You shouldn’t have to go back into that mob. It’ll just take me a minute or two, okay?”

  Relief softened her face. “Thank you. The smoke was really getting to me. Don’t be too long. I’m starting to get cold without your hot body against mine.”

  She was killing him, because Kurt was fairly certain that if he didn’t get inside her soon, he’d die. He blamed it on his long dry period, blamed it on the elusive Michelle Ellis. He was primed and ready now, more invested in the sex than in catching his prey. Not good. He had to gain some perspective and objectivity here.

  “I can take care of that.”

  He pulled his key fob from his pocket and aimed it toward the white Camry belonging to NCIS—a match to his own. One press of the button flashed the lights and opened the door. Midge’s bright smile blessed him.

  “I’ll be right back.” He gave her a quick kiss and headed for the entrance while she walked to his car.

  At the door, he showed his hand stamp to the bouncer, who acknowledged him with a nod. Kurt couldn’t risk finding Midge’s companions. They might decide she was better off with them and get her to stay. He waited in the men’s room until enough time had passed to make it plausible that he had searched the club for them. Then he walked to his car, shaking his head as he formed an apology for her.

  Midge kept her gaze forward as he slipped behind the wheel. Her body language didn’t bode well for him. Her arms were crossed and her posture stiff. He never should have left her alone. It was a rookie move that had given her too much time to think. Kurt thrust his key into the ignition.

  “I couldn’t find them anywhere. I think they may have left. Let’s get you home.”

  Midge tightened her arms when he started the engine. “I can call a cab. You’ve been drinking.”

  “I only had one glass of wine. I’m good.”

  “I don’t want to put you out.”

  She was taking giant steps away from him. It was another new move. None of her victims had indicated she’d changed her mind once she’d targeted them. That seemed to be clear evidence he’d been made. Kurt had to find a way to salvage things and get them back on track.

  “It really isn’t any trouble,” he assured her. “I don’t mind. If you want to make sure I’m not a serial killer, you can go ask Dougie the bouncer over there. He knows who I am and will vouch for me.”

  He was taking a huge risk. The chances of Dougie recognizing him in disguise were zero. Kurt was counting on Midge not doing what he’d suggested and that the offer alone would ease her concerns. Then he took another chance.

  “It’s just a ride home and me walking you to your door like any gentleman should do. It doesn’t have to be anything more than that. You’re the boss. You’re in control.”

  When she didn’t respond, he pulled out his burner phone. “Or I can call you a cab.”

  She stared at the device he offered. After a few breath-holding seconds, she smiled at him. “You really are a gentleman. It’s been so long that I’d forgotten what one looked like. How did I get so lucky to have met you?”

  Luck had nothing to do with it, sweetheart.

  He shrugged and put the phone away. “Funny. I’ve been thinking the same thing. We good?”

  “More than good.” The tension in her rigid posture faded. “My place isn’t far, about two miles away. It’s easy to find.”

  Kurt wondered if it was a ruse. Her victims indicated a drive of at least fifteen minutes. If she were suspicious of him, she could direct him to any house where she could allow him to see her to the door, then take off once he left.

  On foot? In killer heels? Barefoot?

  He tossed the notion aside and followed her directions. Within minutes they were in front of a two-story structure that stood out among the single-storied houses around it.

  “It’s an awfully big house for one person,” he said.

  “It’s two houses. I live in the left one. We share the garage between them,” she replied.

  No cars in the driveway probably meant all the vehicles were in there. The idea of running her plates was off the table. He pulled to a stop at the curb and cut the engine.

  “I’ll get your door,” he said, opening his own.

  “Not necessary.”

  She was out before Kurt could stop her. He hurried to her side before she started for the door.

  “You’re not making
it easy for me to put my gentleman moves on you.”

  She pressed her palm to his chest. “There are moves then there’s overkill. I’m not a fairy princess who needs sit in place to have her carriage door opened.”

  He slipped his hands around her waist. “Ah, so you’re a warrior queen. I’ve met a few of those.” And loved them all.

  Midge’s gaze dropped to his throat. “Maybe I was back in the day, but not now.”

  The sadness in her voice tweaked his heart. Curiosity begged him to ask what she meant. Duty required him to keep his mouth shut.

  “It’s getting cold. Let’s get you inside”—he tucked her against him—“because I am walking you to the door.”

  After that, it was all up to her. Kurt couldn’t press to enter the house, couldn’t entreat her into sex, couldn’t do anything that made it appear as though he’d tried to entrap her, despite the fact he wanted to do all of those things.

  She cuddled close and somewhat led the way. He committed her address to memory. The house numbers were clearly visible. No other details leaped out at him.

  “Who lives in the other unit?” he asked.

  “My busybody landlady. The woman knows no boundaries,” she replied. “I’d leave, but I really love the place.”

  He heard the jingle of keys as they reached the front stoop.

  “Have you tried setting some boundaries?”

  “I…” Midge paused, key poised to unlock the door. “Not yet.”

  Warmth curled around them when she pushed open the door. She stepped over the threshold then turned his way.

  “Would you like to come in?”

  “I would very much like that.”

  So it was her place. What did that mean? Wrong woman or new moves? Kurt wasn’t sure what to do. He’d never been this conflicted before. Night-lights here and there gave Kurt enough illumination to do a visual sweep of the place. There was nothing sparse about it.

  Bookshelves lined the room, packed neatly with books of various ages, mostly old. There was the overstuffed leather couch with a coffee table facing a flat-screen television on an entertainment console. Two armchairs with end tables pointed toward the fireplace but could be easily turned toward the couch. A multi-colored Oriental rug was in front of the fireplace. There was no computer or laptop that he could see, but there was a tablet and an e-book reader on the coffee table among some magazines.

  The walls had two pictures, one a numbered Picasso serigraph at the foot of the staircase above a polished oak sideboard, and the other, a still-life depicting a wooden bowl filled with water-beaded lemons above the fireplace.

  “Nice place.” Expensive things.

  “Thanks. I buy secondhand and restore. I find it challenging and calming.”

  All right, so not expensive. A pair of golden eyes staring from one of the chairs jolted him. “Is that the infamous Hades?”

  Midge laughed lightly. “It is. I’d caution you about making friends. He’s persnickety.”

  More doubts. She wasn’t fitting the profile, or rather, she fit the profile sometimes but not others. The cat was one more example of how she might not be his target. Pets and kids were always a good way to break the ice, though. Did he want to break the ice? If she wasn’t the woman he was looking for, he needed to leave.

  “I’ve never been able to resist cats and dogs.” He walked toward the cat.

  She snorted. “Don’t come crying to me if you draw back a bloody stump.”

  “Heaven forbid.”

  Hades sat up at Kurt’s slow approach. The cat’s tail was flicking and Kurt got the feeling he was being sized up for the kill. No growl or purr greeted him, just those unblinking eyes.

  “Hey, buddy. You are a handsome guy. With that glossy black fur, you’ve got great camouflage to stalk the night, panther-like.”

  Hades stood, stretched his back and kneaded his paws into the cushion. Kurt avoided eye contact and offered his hand, knuckles first, as he sat on the arm of the chair. Hades took a tentative sniff, then head-butted him with a purr. Kurt rubbed his cheeks and continued his scan of the place. All was neat and orderly. A landline phone was on one end table. The message light was flashing like crazy.

  Hades meowed and rolled to his back. Smiling, Kurt rubbed his ears, earning a rumbling purr. He turned his attention away from the cat and back to her. She stood beside her long couch, watching him through wide eyes.

  She was a looker. His body fully appreciated that. If she was the perp, he had to keep emotional distance, no matter how great the sex might be. If she wasn’t… Fuck. If she wasn’t, Kurt would want more. He’d want to know her, be with her. How could he do that when he sat there in disguise? Would he have a shot at her without it? Come clean now? And what if she is this blackmailer?

  Leave.

  That seemed his best option. If only he could make himself get up and go. Screw Ellis. If she doesn’t want me, I don’t want her. But he did. He wanted her more than he could bear, despite her rejection. Right now, contemplating a relationship with Midge, if she wasn’t the suspect, felt like cheating on his nonexistent girlfriend.

  “Looks like you have a lot of messages.” He jerked his chin toward the answering machine.

  Midge shrugged. “They can wait.”

  “Not even curious?”

  “Not really. Anyone important to me has my cell phone number.”

  “Would it be ballsy of me to ask for that number?”

  “Why?” Suspicion laced her tone.

  “Maybe I’d like to take you out to dinner. I don’t want to be swallowed up in the mass of messages.”

  She studied him for too long before she pulled her phone from her purse. “Give me yours first.”

  Midge flipped it open. It was yet another discrepancy in her methodology. His target had a state-of-the-art smartphone, not a flip phone. Who has a flip phone in this day and age? He rattled off the number to his burner phone, not his real number. She punched it in with record speed then tossed the phone back into her purse.

  He watched her studying him. 'Sizing him up’ was a better term. Kurt could see the wheels turning in her head. It worried him. This whole night had him second-guessing himself. Right now, he didn’t know what to do. The awkward silence was killing him.

  “Not decorating for Christmas?” he asked.

  “I’m saving that for the weekend. I would have started today, but I was overtaken by events.”

  “The undynamic duo?”

  She snickered. “They wouldn’t take no, and I didn’t feel like arguing the point.”

  It hadn’t been the first time she’d said something similar. Leave now. Fuck. Give me some sign of what to do.

  “I’m giving you points for the clever superhero reference.” Midge kicked her heels off. Their thunk on the wooden floor pulled Kurt to his feet. Hades hopped down beside him.

  “What was so special about today?” He walked toward her, Hades by his side.

  “Today is my birthday.”

  Her slow steady pace as she started toward him mirrored a feline stalking prey. His cock rose up to meet her.

  “Happy birthday.” Kurt hoped he managed to sound cool and collected, because he was anything but.

  “It will be in a few seconds.” In front of him now, she slid her hands up his chest and around his neck. “I’m making you my birthday present.”

  She covered his lips in a tongue-tangling kiss that shut his brain down and set his cock on high alert for action. This was how she lured men in, though her victims had indicated she’d enticed them until they made the first move. It didn’t matter. He’d have her and her schemes dead to rights now. She couldn’t accuse him of being the aggressor. She was clearly in charge and, God help him, all he could think about, dream about, pretend about…was a buttoned-up court reporter who wouldn’t give him the time of day.

  Oh, damn, this man can kiss.

  Midge went melty in some parts, hard and wet in others. She wanted to climb Orin’s body until sh
e could wrap her legs around his waist and rub against that delicious hard-on.

  She hadn’t needed to have her glasses on to see—to feel —Orin’s interaction with Hades. In the two years since she’d adopted him from that godawful shelter, Hades had never taken to anyone at first sight. Ninety-nine percent of people got a hiss and growl from him or the rare claws-out swat. But Orin had known how to approach him, and Hades clearly loved every second, evidenced by his deep purrs and the need to rub all over Orin. Midge understood that feeling all too well. In that moment, he’d won her body and maybe a little of her heart.

  She craved him against hers, to be pressed so tight atoms couldn’t get between them, to fall into his embrace and drown in his kisses, to fuck him right here and right now. Midge could have blamed it on the wine or her too-long abstinence, and maybe she would in the morning, but all she wanted was him. Hunger, need and an attraction she couldn’t deny drove her to make the first move, something she hadn’t done in years. It felt liberating to have her old self resurface.

  Too many times tonight she’d heard herself thinking or saying how she didn’t like conflict. She was sick of hearing the words roll through her head or come from her lips. Enough was enough. She’d let that awful incident years ago define who she was now. She’d stopped living and hidden away, afraid of… Of what? She’d done nothing wrong. God, how she wanted her old self back for good—starting now. She prayed the wig stayed put.

  Guilt seeped in past her horniness. Orin had talked about them going out to dinner. Was it a come-on or the real deal? Wasn’t having sex with him now under false pretenses? It wasn’t her he’d be fucking. It was a fake—

  Oh God, yes.

  He’d curled his hand around her breast. One squeeze had sent her libido into overdrive. She broke the kiss and arched her neck. Orin dragged his lips down her exposed throat.

  “Please, tell me you have condoms,” she said in a rush a breath.