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  Noah shrugged him off, wrenching himself out of the professor’s grasp. “I will end you,” he repeated.

  “Noah,” Worthington said. “Come on.”

  Noah stood there for another moment, then turned and headed for the door. As he went, he reached his arm out and angrily pushed a can of pencils off the detective’s desk.

  I hurried out after Noah and Worthington, even though apparently neither one of them even remembered I was there.

  Noah stormed ahead, back through the double doors before barreling through the lobby and back out onto the street.

  “What the fuck was that?” Worthington seethed once we were out of the police station.

  “That was a fucking ambush,” Noah said. He was putting his gloves back on. “I’m not talking to them again. They can go fuck themselves. They think I killed Dani DeClair? Yeah, well, prove it.”

  “No, I mean, what the fuck were you doing?” Worthington demanded. “They have you on tape threatening a police office. Do you know how that makes you look? Not to mention if there’s ever a grand jury hearing, they’ll – ”

  “I told you,” Noah said calmly, “I don’t give a fuck what they do. And if you can’t accept that, well, then, maybe I should find a lawyer who can.” He started walking toward the street, where he climbed into the backseat of his waiting limo.

  Besides the slight look of disapproval he’d given me when I asked Detective Rake for some coffee, he hadn’t acknowledged my presence at all.

  “Jesus,” Professor Worthington swore under his breath. He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. He lit one up and exhaled slowly. He glanced over at me, seemingly remembering for the first time that I was there.

  “You smoke?” he asked, holding out the pack and offering me one.

  I shook my head no.

  He took another long drag and I just stood there, not sure what I was supposed to say. This definitely wasn’t the way I imagined my first foray into the real world of law going – me having slept with a potential suspect, finding out that a couple of other women he’d slept with had ended up murdered.

  My phone started ringing, and I fumbled through my bag until I found it.

  It was a number I didn’t recognize.

  “Charlotte Holloway,” I said, deciding to try and sound professional in front of Professor Worthington.

  “Hi, Charlotte Holloway.” The voice was smooth as silk, and instantly recognizable. “This is Noah Cutler.”

  “Oh,” I said. “Hi, Noah.”

  Worthington looked up with interest.

  “I’d like to discuss what just happened in there,” he said. “Would you be available for a meeting?”

  “Where are you?”

  “Sitting in my limo. Watching you.”

  I bit my lip, considering.

  “You look cute when you bite your lip like that.”

  “Let me ask Professor Worthington,” I said. I covered the phone with my hand, why, I had no idea, since there was no reason to – Noah could hear everything anyway, and besides, he was watching us.

  “Noah wants to have a meeting,” I said.

  “Of course,” Worthington said. “When? Where?”

  “Just you,” Noah rasped into the phone.

  “What?”

  “Just. You. Not Worthington.”

  I paused, my heart hammering in my chest. “He, um… he wants it to be with just me.” My face burned, as I realized how that sounded. Noah was making it perfectly clear that he wanted time alone with me, doing everything but coming out and saying that it had to do with something of a personal nature. Why else would he want to have a meeting with a law student?

  “Go,” Professor Worthington said, seemingly unfazed. “Whatever he wants, go.”

  “When?” I asked into the phone.

  “Now.”

  “Where?”

  “Come to my limo, Charlotte.”

  The line went dead.

  “He wants me to go to his limo,” I said. “He wants to read over the notes I took.”

  Professor Worthington nodded. “Sure,” he said. “Do whatever he wants.” I wasn’t sure if it was my imagination, but I thought I heard an implication in his tone, like maybe he was telling me to do whatever it took, in whatever way.

  I nodded and slid my phone back into my bag.

  When I got to the limo, I opened the door and slid inside.

  Noah was sitting in the seat across from me.

  “Hello,” he said conversationally, as if he hadn’t just been ignoring me for the past hour.

  “Hi,” I said as I settled in. The limo started moving, and I frowned. “Where are we going?”

  “Nowhere.” He moved over, sitting next to me, then put his hand on my leg. He edged the bottom of my skirt up until it was above my knee. “You have to stop wearing these tight little skirts,” he said. “The way your ass looks in them drives me crazy.”

  I looked at him and blinked. “You’re kidding me, right?”

  “No, I’m not kidding you, Charlotte. Your ass is sexy as hell.” He pulled me toward him, and his lips were on my neck, tracing a line down my collarbone. His hand slid up my skirt and cupped my ass. He squeezed. “Every part of you is gorgeous.” His hand moved up my side and squeezed my breast. “That asshole in there was staring at your tits. Outfits that show your body like this should only be for me.”

  “I’m wearing a skirt and a V-neck sweater,” I said, summoning my resolve and pushing him off me. “That’s hardly a sexy outfit. And you lost the right to tell me what to wear when you told me to get out of your apartment this morning.”

  “I told you I had a meeting.”

  “Yeah, but you were mean about it. And you barely even looked at me when we were in the police station.”

  He seemed annoyed by this. “I’m moody, Charlotte. That’s something you’re going to have to deal with. And when we’re in a professional situation, I can’t make it obvious that I was just fucking you an hour earlier.”

  “No, but you could at least say hello.”

  “Hello,” he breathed, moving back over to me. His breath tickled my ear, sending a wave of heat radiating between my legs. He reached down and pulled my sweater off in one smooth motion. “Jesus,” he said when he saw the pink-and-black lace push-up bra I was wearing underneath. He pulled the cups down and lowered his head to my nipples, sucking on them right there in the back of the limo.

  I tried to resist, but it was impossible. His mouth on me felt so good, so right. I couldn’t take it. I knew he was dangerous, but I didn’t care. The things he was doing to me were too hard to fight against, too overwhelming.

  He unzipped his pants and pulled his cock out. It was thick and perfect, rock hard and standing at attention. He grabbed my hand and put it on his dick, and I stroked it while he sucked my tits. Then his mouth was on mine, kissing me, his tongue exploring mine.

  After a moment, he grabbed me around the waist and pushed me down onto the floor of the limo, my knees brushing against the rough carpeted floor. He took my chin in his hand and tipped it up so I was looking at him, then rubbed the head of his cock over my lips.

  “Open your mouth,” he commanded.

  I did as I was told, and he slid the head of his cock past my lips.

  “Good girl,” he said as I started sucking. He put his hand on the back of my head, guiding me down as I blew him.

  I loved the way he felt in my mouth, and I slipped my hand around his shaft, stroking him as I sucked.

  “God, Charlotte,” he groaned. “Good girl. Suck it harder, baby.” The way he was talking was turning me on. I could feel my panties were already soaked. “Look at me,” he demanded, and I gazed up at him, our eyes locking on each other while I moved up and down on his cock.

  Finally, he pulled me back up onto the seat. “Get on your hands and knees,” he growled.

  I did as I was told, sticking my ass up in the air, not even caring that we were in the back of a limo
, that he was taking me right here.

  He ripped my panties off and tossed them onto the floor, then took his dick in his hand and rubbed it over my slit. “Jesus, Charlotte, that little pussy is just begging to be fucked.” And then he slid right inside of me.

  I cried out in pleasure, already ready to come from that first stroke. But he leaned his body over me and grabbed my hair, pulled my head back until his lips were against my ear. “Don’t come yet, baby,” he rasped. “Not until I say.”

  I whimpered, hoping he would pull back on the pressure, but he didn’t. He kept fucking me, faster and deeper, his balls hitting my ass.

  “I’m going to blow a nice big load in you, do you want that, baby?” he demanded.

  “Yes,” I groaned.

  “When you feel me shoot inside of you, I want you to come, do you understand me, Charlotte?”

  “Yes.” He hand was still on my hair, and he pulled back and slapped my ass nice and hard.

  I yelled out in pain and surprise, but my pussy got wetter.

  “Come for me, Charlotte,” he commanded. “Come on my dick, baby.” I did as I was told, a second later feeling the first shot of his seed filling up my pussy. He kept pistoning in and out, in and out, until I’d gotten every last drop of his come.

  He slid out of my slowly and collapsed onto the seat across from me.

  I sat up and pulled my skirt down, then searched the limo floor for my panties.

  Noah buttoned his pants and looked at me through hooded eyes. “You really shouldn’t be wearing such revealing outfits, Charlotte,” he admonished. “You’ll get all kinds of attention that might lead to bad things.”

  “I’ll take my chances,” I said. I was still out of breath, still exhilarated by the fact that he’d called me into his limo and fucked me. It meant he still wanted me, and even though it was wrong, I liked it.

  Noah reached over and pushed a button on the console in the arm rest next to him.

  “Yes?” the voice came.

  “We’ll be taking my guest home now,” he said. “Do you remember her address from this morning, Jared?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Thank you.”

  He clicked off and I stared at him, aghast. “We’ll be taking my guest home now?” I repeated incredulously.

  “Oh, I’m sorry.” He was pulling a bottle of water from a cooler that was attached to the side of the door. “Did you have somewhere else you were planning to go?”

  “No, I just…” I trailed off, looking out the window so he wouldn’t see the hurt in my eyes. I enjoyed having sex with him. I did. It was amazing and wonderful and physically the greatest pleasure I’d ever felt. But to be just called into his limo like this and then brought home?

  I blinked back a few tears and took a deep breath. You’re being a baby, I told myself. He’s a beautiful, rich man who could have any woman he wanted. You saw that girl in the picture. She could have been – probably was – a model. Noah hadn’t made any promises to me, he hadn’t told me he wanted to be with me in any way other than a sexual one.

  It was my decision to get down on my knees and suck his dick like some kind of unpaid prostitute. So if I should be upset with anyone, I should be upset with myself.

  I blinked a few more times until my eyes were clear. And then I realized we were in my neighborhood. This whole time I’d thought we’d been driving around aimlessly, that Noah had told his driver to waste time. But instead, we’d been heading toward my neighborhood, like Noah had always known he was going to be sending me home.

  I was mad now.

  And not just at myself.

  “Would you like some water, Charlotte?” Noah asked me.

  “No.”

  We were getting closer to my apartment, and I couldn’t wait to get out of there. I couldn’t wait to leave him in his stupid limo with his stupid driver and his stupid everything. I never wanted to see him again in my life. I was already opening the door as the limo slowed to a crawl.

  I stepped out onto the sidewalk and rushed toward my building.

  I heard Noah call my name, but I ignored him.

  I fumbled with the key to my front door, cursing the fact that I lived in a three-story walk up and not one of those fancy apartment buildings that came with a doorman. Flouncing off to my doorman would have been much more dramatic.

  “Charlotte,” Noah said, suddenly by my side. “Charlotte, what’s wrong?”

  “Are you kidding me?” I asked. “You’re seriously asking me that? You’ve fucked me three times now, and each time, you pretty much just leave. No ‘I’ll call you later’, no ‘talk to you soon, Charlotte’ or ‘I had a nice time, Charlotte.’ Just nothing.”

  “I asked you to have breakfast with me this morning.”

  “Right before you kicked me out of your apartment!”

  He looked shocked. “I’m sorry,” he said. “That’s just how these things go for me.”

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  “It means that it is what it is.”

  “Yeah, well, I don’t have to do whatever this is anymore.” I pushed open the door to my building and stepped inside, but he followed me into the lobby.

  He grabbed my shoulders and pushed me up against the wall. “Do you know how hard it is for me to keep my hands off of you?”

  “I’m not your toy,” I said. “You can’t just have me whenever you want. I’m a person, Noah.”

  “I know that,” he said, his dark eyes fiery with passion. “You think I don’t know that?”

  “Then why aren’t you acting like it?” I didn’t care if I was breaking every rule in the girl code book, the one where you weren’t supposed to ask a man where your relationship stood. Especially one you’d just met. But I wasn’t going to let Noah just use me like that. Even if the sex was incredible.

  “Because I can’t, Charlotte, okay? I can’t.”

  “That’s bullshit.” I started to push past him, but he reached out and put his arms on either side of me, pinning me in.

  “You have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said. “Do you have any idea what it would be like to be with me? To really be with me?”

  “I’m not talking about being with you,” I said. “I hardly even know you! I’m talking about just being nice to me. You know, polite. Keeping up with social norms?”

  He shook his head. “There is no middle ground with you, Charlotte. If I let my guard down, if I even – ” He dropped his hands, walked over to the other side of the lobby, put his hands on the wall and leaned over and stared at the ground.

  “What?” I asked. “If you even what?”

  “You don’t understand my demons, Charlotte,” he said, his voice soft. “You don’t understand the kinds of things I require from the women I’m with.”

  He turned and looked at me then, all traces of bravado gone. An electricity thrummed between us, and I had the feeling that even this tiny admission, this tiny bit of nothing, was hard for him.

  I reached out and put my hand on his arm, but he pulled away.

  “What kind of things?” I asked gently.

  He ran a finger down my cheek. “Things a woman like you would never understand.”

  “Try me.”

  His eyes searched mine, and I had a feeling I was standing at the precipice of something dangerous, like staring into an abyss at the moment right before you’re about to fall. I wanted him to pull me in, to pull me under, to take me wherever it was he was going.

  “Please, Noah,” I pressed. “I want to understand.”

  His face darkened, and a second later, all traces of vulnerability were gone. He straightened up. “I wish you could, Charlotte,” he said. “But I couldn’t ask you to do that.”

  “You’re not asking me,” I said. I put my hand back on his arm, and this time, he didn’t pull away. “I want to.”

  We stood there for a moment, neither of us saying anything, the silence stretching for what seemed like forever. And then his c
ockiness came back, that disarming grin of his returning to his face.

  “Very well, Charlotte,” he said. “I will take you out tonight and show you what I mean. Jared will pick you up at 8:30.” His eyes slid up my body. “Wear the sexiest thing you own.”

  I’d done what I was told. I was ready by eight, dressed in the sexiest thing I owned. Well, the sexiest thing my roommate, Julia, owned. She’d let me borrow a little black dress that was too big for her. Which meant it was a little too small for me.

  It plunged down in the front, showing off my ample cleavage, and hugged my hips before ending right above the knee. I’d blown my hair out into big waves, then slipped into high-heeled stilettos. Bangle bracelets adorned my wrist, and dangly silver earrings clinked as I walked.

  Noah sent me a text at 8:15.

  Are you ready?

  Ready.

  Willing?

  Willing.

  Show me what you’re wearing.

  I snapped a selfie and sent it to him, and the reply was immediate.

  I can’t wait to get you out of that dress.

  I paced around my apartment until my phone finally rang at 8:30.

  It was Jared.

  “Hello, Miss,” he said, which felt weirdly formal, since he knew such intimate details of my life. “Are you ready for your evening?”

  “I am, Jared, thanks,” I said. “I’ll be right out.”

  I went to grab my purse before realizing that wherever Noah was taking me, there was no way I could bring my huge messenger bag. I needed something sleek and tiny.

  I rummaged around in my closet before coming up with a tiny black Coach wristlet. I started switching over the essentials – lipstick, keys, ID, cash…. All the small stuff was in the bottom of my messenger bag, so I had to pull everything out to get to it, including the file folder I’d been given on Noah’s case, the one I’d been avoiding looking at.

  It dropped to the floor as I went to grab my credit card out of my wallet, the documents spilling out onto the carpet.

  I reached down to pick them up.

  And then I froze.

  It was a picture of Dani DeClair, another one from her autopsy. The top was labeled “DeClair, Dani.” Only this one was a split frame, with a picture from another woman’s autopsy on the other side of the page. “Hogan, Nora” it was labeled. Noah’s ex-fiancé.