I’LL BE WATCHING YOU Read online

  ‘There’s the door, babe’ – he nodded in that direction – ‘leave now or you’re not going anywhere for a while.’

  ‘This is my office. If anyone is leaving, you are.’ She felt a certain amount of satisfaction for standing her ground. She had called his bluff.

  ‘Last chance,’ he said.

  Ella didn’t budge.

  He turned around and headed for the door. She breathed deeply, sighing with relief. And yet at the same time a wave of inexplicable disappointment washed over her. You idiot, she chided herself. Count yourself lucky that he backed down, otherwise you would have done something you would regret for the rest of your life.

  Ella’s relief and her disappointment were short-lived. A distinct click alerted her that Reed had locked the door. All her senses came to full alert. Reversing his stance, he faced her. She knew there would be no reprieve. She had to accept the truth. Reed hadn’t been bluffing.

  ‘There’s one thing I want to know, Miss Ella. Have you ever been fucked?’

  Ella gasped.

  ‘And I don’t mean made love to by one of your suitable beaus. I mean screwed by a man who wants you so bad it’s eating him up inside.’

  ‘You have no right to talk to me this way. No right to think that I’d have sex with you.’ As she shook her head in denial, she held up her hands in a defensive measure, as if to ward him off.

  He took one slow, deliberate step after another, drawing ever closer, his gaze riveted to hers. ‘Give me the right. You know you want to. You want it as bad as I do.’

  ‘You’re wrong.’ Panic spread through her like an insidious disease, destroying her resistence.

  Why aren’t you screaming? Why aren’t you running from him? There’s still time.

  He reached out to cradle her face with his hands. She sucked in a deep, startled breath. His touch was strong yet gentle. A shiver of fear and longing shimmied along her nerves. His lips settled over hers: warm and moist, demanding but not brutal. Female reacted to male – woman to man, recognizing her mate. Ella kissed him back with the same desperate need, and that response ignited an uncontrollable blaze within him. Keening softly, she leaned into him, her breasts pressing gently against his hard chest. He eased his hands from her cheeks, across her ears, to spear his fingers into her hair and grasp her head. He deepened the kiss, his tongue delving into her mouth and dueling with hers. She braced her open palms over his chest to balance her unsteady body. And because she needed to touch him. The kiss went on and on until they were both breathless. When he broke the bond, Ella felt momentarily bereft, as is she’d lost a part of herself. But within seconds, his lips found new territory. He nibbled at the side of her neck, then mouthed her ear.

  As she licked her swollen lips, her hands moved of their own accord to tug at his short-sleeved chambray shirt. One by one, she undid the buttons midway and slid her hands inside to caress his bare chest. Her fingertips encountered swirling brown hair that spread over defined muscles, circled tiny male nipples and descended in a thin triangle. Oh, how she loved the feel of him.

  The moment he touched her, she unraveled, whimpering with longing. He unzipped the back of her sedate navy blue summer dress and dragged it to her waist, all the while his hands smoothing their way down her back. With his arms circling her and his lips pressing into the hollow of her throat, she explored his body. After tugging his shirt free of his jeans, she finished unbuttoning it and spread it apart to give her complete access to his upper torso.

  Reed unhooked the back closure of her bra and eased it off her shoulders, inch by inch, slowly revealing her breasts. When he lifted the weight of each mound and flicked his thumbs across her nipples, Ella closed her eyes and allowed the painful pleasure to radiate through her body. He tormented each pebble-hard point, flicking, pinching, rubbing, until Ella was panting. Then he lowered his head and took one nipple into his mouth while his fingers continued their assault on the other. When she thought she couldn’t bear another moment of such exquisite torture, Reed lifted his head and looked into her eyes. They exchanged a heated glare as their labored breaths created the only sound in the room.

  Desire so intense that it was a palpable thing sucked them into the hot, dark depths, down into the irrational, primeval abyss of mating. All other considerations ceased to exist. Only one thing mattered, and that singular need outweighed all others. In that endless moment when they looked at each other, they both knew. Both understood.

  Although the air conditioning in Ella’s office was quite adequate, she suddenly felt hot, as if the Southern summertime heat had invaded her body. She had never felt this way, had never known such powerful sexual hunger. Had never needed a man the way she needed Reed. And he felt the same urgency, the same raging ache, riding him hard. She could see it in his eyes.

  When he cupped her buttocks and pulled her up against him, she made no protest. Indeed, she went willingly. With their gazes still connected, he inched his hand down, down, down until he could insert his hand under her dress. She clung to his shoulders, her lips becoming acquainted with his throat, his chest, his nipples. His big hands worked their way up her thighs to her hips where he encountered her silk panties.

  He slid a couple of fingers beneath the leg band of her panties, running the edge of his calloused fingertips over the curly hair flattened by her underwear. She shuddered against him. He groaned as if in pain, but Ella instinctively recognized the mating call for what it was. Hurriedly he removed his fingers, then swept one arm under her hips and lifted her off her feet.

  Reed tossed her onto the leather sofa. She lay there gazing up at him. While he unbuckled his belt and unzipped his jeans, he watched her, seemingly unable to take his eyes off her. Then, without a word exchanged – no request for permission or whispers of affection – he reached under her dress and dragged her panties over her hips, down her legs and off.

  All Ella could think at that very moment was how glad she was that in the hottest part of summer, she never wore pantyhose or stockings. Crazy, idiotic thought. And quite wanton. Heaven help her, she was wanton. A real hussy.

  When Reed came down over her, bracing one hand on the back of the sofa and the other on the edge of the cushion just below her shoulder, he inspected his handiwork. She knew from the feel of them that her lips were red and swollen. And glancing down at her breasts, she saw her tight, distended nipples, bright pink from his suckling.

  He shoved the skirt of her dress up above her hips, preparing her, then pulled his jeans and briefs down. She held her breath, shocked and yet aroused by his actions. He was big and hard and powerfully male. He was going to take her, ram himself inside her and …

  Never had she wanted anything more. Positioning himself over her, his penis brushed across her mound. She shivered. The tip of his strong erection found the opening of her body. He inserted himself only a couple of inches. She lifted her hips, seeking more.

  ‘I’ve got to fuck you, babe. I’ve got to have you now.’ He thrust his hands under her hips and lifted her up, impaling her, imbedding himself as deeply into her as possible.

  She cried out. The feel of him inside her, filling her, expanding her sheath to its limits, produced a nearly orgasmic response. ‘Reed …’

  ‘I know, babe. I know.’ He began moving, slowly at first, setting the pace, breaking her in gently, allowing her body to adjust to his size.

  His lips and hands were everywhere. Caressing, encouraging, arousing. She was lost in a whirlwind of carnal pleasure, a new and glorious experience for her. She was no simpering virgin, but God help her if Reed didn’t make her feel as if she’d never been with another man.

  They went at each other like animals, wild with a bestial craving that only complete, unbridled sexual satisfaction could appease. She writhed beneath him, giving herself over completely to the carnal act. Gentleness and tenderness gave way completely to savagery. Lust controlled their every action. And with each thrust – each hard, fast lunge into her body – Reed brought her cl
oser and closer to fulfillment. Flooding with steamy moisture, she swelled tighter and tighter, her internal movements milking his stiff penis.

  Her climax was inevitable. She could feel the oncoming tide of release, and the overwhelming sensation frightened her. It had never been like this – an unbearable pleasure, an intensity that shook her to the very core of her being.

  ‘No, babe. Don’t be afraid,’ he murmured, as if he’d read her thoughts. ‘Come for me, Ella. Just for me.’

  Swept away completely. Shattered into a million fragments of pleasure. Her orgasm went on and on, affecting her entire mind and body, leaving no part of her untouched by the magnitude of their lovemaking.

  Reed hammered into her, hard and fast. While the aftershocks of her release radiated through her, he came inside her. His ejaculation powerful, he groaned as his body jerked convulsively. As satiation claimed them, Reed kissed her and whispered her name. She reciprocated, loving the aftermath of affection that he displayed. But within minutes, reality set in, making her painfully aware of where she was and what she’d just done.

  Wriggling beneath him to dislodge him, she shoved against his chest at the same time. ‘Please, let me get up.’

  He gazed down at her for a long moment, then lifted himself off her. Once his feet hit the floor, he pulled up his briefs and jeans and closed the zipper. His shirt hung open loosely at either side of his big body. He held out his hand, offering her assistance. Reluctantly, she accepted his hand. He pulled her to her feet. When her bare breasts made contact with his chest, she gasped.

  She looked at him pleadingly. This shouldn’t have happened. It was wrong. They had made a huge mistake. It must never happen again. All these thoughts and more came to mind, but she didn’t say a word. She knew she should feel shame and remorse, yet she didn’t. How could she regret something so incredibly wonderful, the most fabulous sexual experience of her life?

  She’d just had sex with an ex-convict, her father’s sworn enemy. A man as dangerous as any of the criminals who came through her courtroom.

  Reed released her, but for just a second neither of them moved, letting the remnants of desire caress them. He stepped away first. Ella dragged the undone bodice of her dress up just enough to cover her breasts.

  ‘I’d better go,’ Reed said.

  She nodded.

  ‘Ella …’

  ‘Please, just go.’

  ‘Yeah, sure.’

  He turned around, crossed the room and unlocked the door. Glancing over his shoulder, he said, ‘See you around.’

  He opened the door, went out into the hall and closed the door quickly behind him. Thank God Kelly was still at lunch. Ella sucked in a deep breath and released it slowly. What the hell had just happened?

  The moment the telephone rang, reality hit her over the head like a sledgehammer. She scurried across the room, locked the door and dashed back to answer the phone.

  ‘Judge Porter.’ How was it possible that her voice sounded so calm when inside she was a mass of quivering jelly?

  ‘Ella, how are you?’ Cybil Carlisle asked. ‘I’m sorry I was still sleeping when you left this morning.’

  ‘I’m all right.’ A definite lie. After what had happened with Reed Conway, Ella doubted that she would ever be all right again.

  ‘I suppose Webb and Carolyn are coming straight home.’

  ‘Yes, I’m afraid so. I tried to persuade Daddy not to cut short their vacation, but he insisted.’

  ‘I’m glad Webb’s coming back to look after you. I worry about you, you know.’

  ‘I’m fine,’ Ella said. ‘I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself.’

  Yeah, sure you can. You can take care of yourself, all right. You just had unprotected sex with Reed Conway on the sofa in your office. Good heavens, girl, you don’t have the sense the good Lord gave a billy goat!

  ‘I couldn’t bear it if anything bad ever happened to you,’ Cybil said, her voice catching with emotion. ‘I love you, darling girl.’

  ‘I love you, too.’

  Ella hung up the phone, then searched for her bra. The soft, silky material lay draped over the wastebasket, where apparently it had landed when Reed tossed it aside. She put on the bra, thrust her arms through the armholes of her dress, then reached around to pull up the zipper. She found her discarded panties between the sofa back and the seat cushion.

  The moment she walked into the bathroom, she stopped dead still as she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror over the sink. Merciful heavens! Anyone seeing her right now would know, without a doubt, that she’d just been fucked. And fucked real good.

  She had to clean up, brush her hair, reapply some makeup, and try to get that satisfied look off her face before she went into her courtroom. It wouldn’t do for anyone to suspect that Her Honor, Judge Eleanor Porter, had spent her lunch hour getting laid.

  18

  Cybil Carlisle raced her T-bird at breakneck speed down the old country road. Her shorts were stained with Briley Joe Conway’s semen and her breasts ached from his rough handling. She’d met him at the river cottage co-owned by her and her sister. This was the first time she had risked inviting her current lover to the family’s weekend getaway, because five people possessed keys and used the place at various times and for various reasons. She’d often wondered if Webb ever used the place for his trysts these days, but she doubted it. After all, a US senator had to be discreet about his affairs.

  Lifting the bottle of vodka to her lips, she took a large gulp and coughed as the liquor set her insides on fire. Keeping one hand on the wheel, she stuck the bottle between her thighs, nestling it against her crotch. She preferred having a man between her legs, but the effects of an orgasm faded quicker than the buzz she got from drinking.

  With the hot summer wind whipping her short hair about her face, she laughed, the sound lost in the breeze. She continued laughing – at herself, at Briley Joe, at Jeff Henry, at Webb and Carolyn. And at Junior Blalock, the sorry son of a bitch. If anyone had ever deserved to die, he had. If he had lived, he would have destroyed several lives, including her own. The man had known too many secrets, had threatened too many people.

  Images of that black-haired devil flashed through her mind. He’d been handsome in a lean, mean sort of way. She’d been attracted to him the minute she met him. There had been something about him that had reminded her of Webb. The same coal-black hair and striking good looks. The same cocky, insolent manner. The same self-assurance with women. But where Webb possessed a conscience and a heart, Junior had been sadly lacking in both.

  She recalled the times she and Junior had set the sheets afire. She’d been damned and determined to hurt and humiliate Jeff Henry. If he couldn’t love her then, by God, she had wanted him to hate her. She’d desperately needed him to feel something, even if it was loathing.

  But Junior had threatened to make their affair public. Jeff Henry knowing about the affair was one thing, but the whole town knowing about it would have been different. Jeff Henry’s humiliation would have been public, and he’d have had no choice but to divorce her. She’d warned Junior that if he dared breathe a word about their sordid affair, she’d kill him.

  She’d gone to him that night and found him lying in a heap, bloody and bruised after Reed’s beating. An unopened pocket knife on the ground beside his body had glistened in the moonlight. The temptation to pick up the knife and use it had been overwhelming.

  Cybil sighed deeply and shoved her foot down on the accelerator, speeding the T-bird to ninety. She jerked the bottle from between her legs and lifted it to her lips. Just as her sister Carolyn intended to spend her entire life as Mrs Webb Porter, Cybil meant to live out her days as Mrs Jefferson Henry Carlisle … no matter what.

  Jeff Henry strolled through the park. His walking cane was simply for show, as was his white Panama suit. But the Cuban cigar in his mouth was for pleasure, one of the many he could well afford. Being the descendant of one of the town’s founding families, he had a
reputation to uphold. As a gentleman. As a pillar of society. As an eccentric. He knew his reputation. Some envied him; some pitied him. Some believed him to be a relic of a bygone era. But everyone knew him and had a begrudging respect for his money and social standing, if not for him personally.

  Despite his unhappiness at being married to a drunken whore, he rather enjoyed his life. Although the woman he truly loved could never be his, he could see her, be with her and lavish attention on her. And he could fulfill his duties as godfather to Carolyn’s only child. Never once did he look at Ella without thinking that, if circumstances had been different, she might be his daughter and not Webb’s.

  Other than losing Carolyn, his biggest regret was that he and Cybil hadn’t had children together. Of course, if his wife had gotten pregnant, God only knew who the father would have been – someone like Briley Joe Conway or Junior Blalock. What would it have been like, being stuck with the offspring of that black-hearted bastard? Junior hadn’t been merely scum of the earth; he’d been evil. Any man capable of raping a child didn’t deserve to live.

  A lot of people had hated Junior and had been glad to see him dead. Jeff Henry knew at least a half dozen people who’d had a motive – and the opportunity – to slit the drunken bum’s throat as he lay there semi-conscious on the ground. Jeff Henry could see him lying there where Reed had left him after beating the hell out of him. Reed’s pocket knife, which had apparently fallen from his pocket during the fight, lay on the ground, shiny and tempting, there in the moonlight.

  Killing Junior had been a good deed, not only for Junior’s family, but for the Carlisles and the Porters. Hell, the killer had done the whole goddamn town a favor.

  While Webb Porter watched from the doorway, Viola lifted Carolyn out of her wheelchair and placed her in the bed. What would she do without Viola? No one cared for her as much as Viola did, except perhaps Jeff Henry. And if her old beau really knew the person she had become, he might not remain so infatuated with her. But there was no reason for her sister’s husband to ever know the truth.