This time I moaned, increasing the pressure from my fingers as I imagined everything he said in vivid detail. "I want to feel your tongue deeper."
"You will, sweetheart. You'll feel everything deeper," he said. "The pressure builds in you as I rub and suck and lick. But I stop just before you come, starting again slowly, going faster and faster until you come on my tongue."
With his words I climaxed. My first orgasm with a client. He could hear me coming over the phone, and I knew he was close. "Slam your cock into me now! Feel how tight and wet I am for you, just for you, Ash. Pound me hard and deep and fast until you explode inside of me, our eyes locked on each other, bodies pressed together, my nails digging into your ass and back."
"Yes, Cat. God, yes!"
"As pleasure rips through your body, there's nothing else. Just this. Just us. Let yourself get lost in this moment with me, where only pleasure can live. Give yourself to me, Ash."
And he came, and I cried, wishing he was coming with Catelyn and not Cat.
After our call, I vowed to tell him the truth. Because I realized Catelyn wanted her chance with Ash. After all, he'd held back this time. He hadn't killed the guy.
I imagined what I would say to him to make things right with us when Bridgette crashed open my door, tears streaming down her bruised face. "Oh my God, Catelyn. Oh my God."
I rushed over and hugged her. "What's wrong? Are you okay?"
She shook her head. "He's dead."
I pulled back. "Who?"
"Bradley. He died from complications in the hospital. Ash killed him."
Chapter Twenty Two
Unusual Suspects
WE LAY ON Bridgette's bed staring up at the ceiling and listening to the silence for over an hour before I finally found the courage to ask the question I feared most. "How do you feel? About Ash killing Bradley?"
She didn't turn to face me, but I watched her profile as she answered, her blond hair spread out behind her like Sleeping Beauty. "I'm glad he died. He deserved it for what he did and almost did to me."
"Buddhists believe in multiple lives," I said. "That we reincarnate and all our baggage and shit from our past life follows us into our new one. If they're right, he'll just come back less enlightened than ever and even more of an asshole."
She turned to face me, her blue eyes glossy from unshed tears. "I grew up Christian, and while we may not be devout, I still believe in Hell. That's where he is now."
Bridgette and I didn't talk religion often. I had none to speak of, growing up in so many different foster homes. As an adult I'd studied many spiritual practices and found them all lacking in some way, so I meditated and believed in 'something' but couldn't articulate what that 'something' was. I knew Bridgette had been baptized and believed in the God and Jesus of Christianity, though she didn't practice any more than I did. Still, if there were past lives, which from my studies seemed inevitable, then killing someone just created a new cycle of pain for everyone. Would Bradley's death bring Bridgette more peace or less? I hoped for more. Because she was my friend.
And because I wanted the person who had killed my parents to die, karma be damned.
I tapped my fingers on my pillow. "Can I ask you something?"
She nodded, her head resting on her hand.
"You know I got that call from my parents' killer. He was the reason we found you. He said he gave the rape drugs to Bradley. Do you think they were working together?"
"I think Bradley was too dumb to help get away with murder. But then again, I think all criminals are kind of dumb. A smart person knows they'll get caught."
"Maybe criminals are just confident." I rolled on my back. "They weren't partners. The Midnight Murderer tipped me off about Bradley, so he knew Bradley would get caught. He wouldn't have told him anything important." Which made feel better about Bradley's death and the answers I'd thought he held.
Bridgette finished my thoughts. "So he pretended to be a dealer and sold Bradley the drugs, knowing what he would do."
"He knows me," I continued. "He knows you. He knew Bradley."
"Better than I knew Bradley."
"He's someone close to us."
Bridgette shrugged. "Or stalking you."
"Or both."
She gasped. "Who keeps bumping into you again and again?" She clapped her hands. "Ash."
"No. He wouldn't… "
"…kill anyone?"
"He wouldn't hurt me." But then I remembered how Ash hurt Bradley, and I shivered.
"No, you're right. He's not the type. He's not calculating enough. He's a more raw anger, caveman, do anything to protect his woman kind of guy."
I sighed in relief. "Right. So who is?"
She stood and walked to her rosewood dresser, pulling out a sheet of paper from the drawer. "This is a list of everyone at the party, and everyone who worked at the party. I figured we could go through it and see if anyone made sense."
I sat up. "Where'd you get that?"
She shrugged and smiled an impish grin. "I copied it before my parents gave it to the cops."