Double Cross - James Patterson [60]
Bree stretched across me, then reached and opened the nightstand drawer. What was in there?
She took out the last thing I was expecting to see: two lengths of rope.
Hmmm, interesting development. My heart was starting to race.
“Is that for you or me?” I asked.
“Let’s say it’s for both of us.”
I trusted Bree, right? No doubts, no suspicions? Well, maybe a couple of questions right then. In a few moves, she looped my left hand firmly but not uncomfortably to the bed. Then she kissed me. A reassuring kiss on the mouth, followed by a second, harder one. Did I really know Bree?
“Is it getting hot in here or is it just me?” I asked.
“I hope it’s getting hot,” Bree said.
She tied my right hand to the bed next. Bree did know her knots.
“This why you became a cop?” I asked. “You a control freak, Detective Stone?”
“Could be, Dr. Cross. We’ll soon find out, won’t we? You’re looking very yummy, there.”
“Your turn,” I said. “Clothes off.”
She flirted with her big hazel eyes, and I must say, I was definitely starting to enjoy this—whatever it was. “Say please.”
“Please. But can we hurry this up a little?”
“So, you are in a hurry?”
“Little bit now.”
“Little bit, huh? I don’t know if little is the operative word around here right now.”
Bree’s blouse went first—slowly—then her jeans, leaving a soft blue lace bra filled to the brim, and matching blue panties I hadn’t seen before. Fit right in with the eye-friendly decor of the suite.
I tried to reach out for Bree, but the ropes held me back.
“Come here, Bree. Kiss me,” I said. “Please kiss me. Just a kiss.”
“Just a kiss, huh? I’m supposed to believe that one?”
She did finally kiss me—but not until she’d taken her sweet time tasting me all over. I twisted and twined my legs with hers. That was about all I could do. I was getting a little crazy to move around but not totally minding that I couldn’t. And I was definitely hot for Detective Bree Stone, beginning to get in a big hurry too.
“My, my, my,” she said, and smiled. “This is working out even better than I thought it would. We should come here more often.”
“I agree. How about every night?”
Finally she lay down on top of me. Bree’s lips were an inch from mine; her breasts were warm on my chest; her eyes were beautiful to stare at this close.
“You want me to undo these nasty ropes now?” she asked.
I nodded, breathing hard. “Yes.”
“Yes, what?” Her nails softly raked down my chest, then my legs, then between my legs. I shuddered at the touch, couldn’t help myself if I wanted to.
“Yes, please! Is this about being in control?” I asked again.
“No, Dr. Cross. It’s about trust. Do you trust me?”
“Should I?”
“Don’t answer a question with a question.”
“Yeah, I do. I trust you. Is that a wise thing to do?”
“Very wise. It’s the only way we can be together.”
I laughed. “Well, I want us to be together. Right now, actually.”
“You do, do you?”
“I see you’re into torture.”
“Uh-huh.”
Then Bree finally reached across my body, and with two quick pulls of the rope, she freed my hands. I would have been impressed by her expertise with knots, but my mind was on other things at that moment. I rolled Bree over and kissed her, and then I was inside her. Deep, very deep. “Slow,” she whispered. “Make this last.” It occurred to me only later that that was exactly what Bree had been going for all along. Make this last.
Talk about a win-win situation. Talk about a night off from all the craziness.
Maybe we were even ready for whatever might come next. And maybe we weren’t even close. But right now, none of that mattered.
“Room has wireless high-speed access. All the amenities you could hope for. Should we check in on the world?” Bree asked after our first time.
“We definitely . . . shouldn’t . . . check in on anything.”
Chapter 78
EARLY THE FOLLOWING MORNING, the great Kyle Craig entered through the gates of the University of Chicago. He was dressed as he thought a college professor might reasonably outfit himself for class these days: khaki trousers and sneakers, a blue denim work shirt, a gray knit vest, a knit tie.