“Oh yeah, just like that. I’ll teach you not to be bad.” He groaned. “Oh God, I’ll teach you to be the best.”
Her eyes burned with her tears. Her nose clogged. She couldn’t breathe. The size of him in her mouth would surely kill her, suffocate her. Please stop, please stop, please—
He growled, cursed, finished with a harsh yowl that reverberated down to her toes, and left her bones hollow.
“Oh baby, that was the best. Wasn’t that the best?” His voice was low, lazy, satisfied. He chuckled. “Did you come?”
She swiped at her eyes, sniffed. “Did you want me to?”
“I bet you’re the wettest you’ve ever been.”
“I’m the wettest I’ve ever been,” she murmured because he told her to. She didn’t know how to stop him telling her what to do. She’d never known.
“Touch yourself.”
“Okay.”
“Feel your wet cunt, you stupid bitch.”
She choked off a cry, clamped her legs shut against him, and sniffed so that she could breathe. “I am. I swear I am.”
“Afraid I’m going to punish you again?”
She pulled the covers over her head as if that would make his voice go away. “Yes,” came her strangled whisper.
“Are you going to dream of me, tonight?”
“I always dream about you.” He was her worst nightmare.
“Then say good night, my love.”
“Good night.”
“Sweet dreams.” He paused. “Max.”
Jesus Christ.
He knew who she was.
*
Max scrambled from the bed and dug in her purse where she’d dumped it on the chair. Dammit, dammit, she’d left Witt’s cell phone in the car.
She couldn’t call on her own phone. McKaverty and Schulz might still be recording. She grabbed her pants from the floor, tugged them on, slammed into her shoes, then ran down the steps to her front door. She hadn’t remembered picking them up, but her car keys were in her hand. She fumbled with the door handle, finally managing to yank it open.
In the glovebox, she found her savior.
She called Witt’s house. She almost cried when she heard his voice on the message. Damn. He wasn’t home. Then she remembered he’d said he leave his cell phone on, his other one, since he’d given her his extra. She hit the speed-dial with a shaking finger.
“Long here.”
“Where are you?”
He didn’t ask who it was. “Knee deep in shit and garbage. Wanna join me?”
He was being literal, she was sure. He was probably on a big case. Hadn’t there been mention on the news of digging in some dump for the body of a missing woman? He’d presumably been there all day, too, since he hadn’t called. She pulled herself together, breathed in through her nose and exhaled through her mouth, then asked politely, “You okay, Witt?”
“You coming to my place to spend what’s left of the night?”
“No.”
“Then I’m not okay.”
The sound of his voice soothed her fractured nerves, her panic receded, and the idea of crawling into bed next to him, falling asleep in his arms, was the most important thing in the world. “Don’t be kidding around. It’s late. I have to tell you something.”
His sigh was audible over the crackle of the cell phone and the background noise of voices, shouts, and the grinding of machinery. “Kinda figured it wasn’t a social call. God forbid you should call ‘cause you wanna hear my voice.”
That was exactly why she’d called, but she wouldn’t tell him that. “You’re whining. It doesn’t become you.”
“Busted.” Then he went on before she could add anything. “Suppose you wanted to tell me that guy called. Achilles.”
He was reading her mind again. “How’d you know?”
“Let’s see,” he paused. “It’s after two in the morning. You spent two hours on the phone talking sex.” He sucked in a breath. “Christ. Maybe you’re calling ‘cause you’re horny and you want me to talk you through it.”
She wanted to cry. She wanted him to hold her. She wanted to stop being so afraid. “Will you quit? This is important.”
He huffed over the connection. “Achilles is the logical conclusion, Max.”
“You have to call your cop friends and make sure they traced it.”
Another long suffering sigh. “They’re taking care of it. They don’t need me to remind them.”
“But—”
“Go to sleep, Max. I’ll call you tomorrow and let you know if they found him.”
“Witt. There’s something else.”
She could almost hear him rolling his eyes. “What?”
“He called me Max.”
“Jesus H. Christ.”
That’s what she’d said. “I think he probably knew that first night.”
“I’m sending a patrol car by. Keep your doors locked.”
“I’m not scared.” She punched the lock on her car door and wondered how the hell she was going to get back inside her apartment safely.