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“Relax, baby.” He removed his shirt and leaned over her body. “Let a real man show you how it’s done.”

She thought of Isaac and tried to push him away. Feeling restraint slipping through her fingers, she became suspended between knowing and doing. He stroked her face with the back of his hand and lowered his body over hers.

“I know you want me. You need me and I need you, so don’t play hard to get. It’s no longer becoming. We were meant to be together.”

He grasped her ankles and gently pulled her legs apart, settled over her and held

her body in place with his weight. With his mouth close to her ear, he whispered erotic demands.

“Lift the restraints and let me in, baby. There’s a lot of temptation in this city, but you body is the hottest thing I’ve seen. Let me remove your pajamas—and all doubt that we belong together.”

Without wanting to, she complied.

His teeth seized her nipples with just enough pressure to send shivers down her body. She twisted beneath him, pushing her breasts into his face. Liquid heat unfurled between her legs. His face was still buried in her chest, his lips on her nipples, drawing them, alternately, into his mouth. Even in the face of panic, her body churned with desire. The exquisite torment had kindled a fire. Her juices overflowed.

His mouth left her breast. “The best is yet to come.”

She froze in place, knowing he would turn her hunger into hurt. His tongue was a hot, moist flame licking away her resolve. More aroused than frightened, she watched his face disappear between her legs and felt his tongue burrowing into her tunnel. Fire exploded through her body so hotly, she felt that she would burst into flame. Grabbing his head, she held it in place and arched her hips, expanding her opening and taking him deeper inside.

The rhythm became intense. Tension built. Her hands left his head to massage the

ache in her breasts. Seeing this, he raised his body and plowed his tongue up the flat surface of her stomach. His hands replaced hers. He kneaded her breasts and then sucked her sensitive nipples while grinding his body against hers. A wave of white heat took her to the edge of ecstasy. Just as she was about to explode, he sat up and left her hanging.

“It’s showtime, baby, so let’s have the truth. Did your big stud football hero make you feel this good? Am I doing it for you? Do you want more?”

She screamed and grabbed wildly for his body, pulling him down to her. “Yes!

Yes!”

“Then come on down here and show me.”

Her breath broke. A scream left her lips. The rod he aimed at her mouth was at least two feet long, glistening and iron hard. It moved closer, parted her lips and slid along her tongue.

Swallowing hard and trying not to be sick, she accepted the engorged flesh and found it delightful and easy to accommodate.

“That’s it, baby. Take it all.” He placed her fingers around taut testicles. “Milk

‘em, baby. Oh yeah. That’s it, baby!”

When he tried to withdraw, she held on.

“I’m not taking it away, baby. I just want to give it to you another way.”

She let go and he flipped her over. “Perfect ass, baby. Perfect!”

With his hands under her hips, he pulled her back to meet his iron arousal and jammed it inside of her. She moved beneath him, squeezing him hard. She continued to caress him intimately while she clawed the sheets and screamed. Instead of the anticipated pain, fireworks exploded in the depth of her sex, filling her with unbearable pleasure. She screamed again and again.

“Don’t get carried away, baby. We’ll make up for lost time.”

The voice was a bolt from the haze of her ecstasy. It was not Quincy’s voice. She froze in place. Isaac!

“There’s much more where that came from, and it’s all yours.” Isaac gently kissed her face while supporting her limp body in arms.

Her struggle back to reality was weighted with a ton of guilt. Isaac had entered the middle of dream, but what part? She settled against him, praying she had not cried out Quincy’s name.

* * * *

“You were a real wildcat this morning.” Isaac whispered when she finally

awakened in the early afternoon. “Did you miss me that much?”

“That, and your little prelude in the parking lot last night. Don’t do that again.”

“Maybe I shouldn’t. You wore me out. I’ve got a game tomorrow.”

She frowned. “So that’s it?”

“No way,” Isaac answered, kissing her deeply. “You’re a lot of woman to come

home to, and I’m a lucky man. Sweetness was named after you, baby.”

“Keep that up and I’ll—”

“No, no, no!” He feigned a frown. “I do have a lot more for you, but I need

nourishment. Whose turn is it to make breakfast?”

When he was in town, he spent most of his time at her place and they took turns

preparing meals. Mornings were breakfast in bed.

“I think it’s yours, but after wearing you out, I’ll make the pancakes.”

She started to get up and he grabbed her from behind. “Let me feel you next to me

a little while longer. I can’t get enough of you, and I’m not just talking about sex. I hate being away so long. I know you’re a busy lady, but a lot of my games are on weekends. Why haven’t you been to any of my road games?”

“Because you never asked.” Having imagined wild times on the road, she was

shocked that he finally did. She had wanted to question him, but thought it would be too complicated to try and shape her schedule around his games. I shouldn’t read anything into his invitation.

Skip’s rap on the door halted their conversation. “I’ve got breakfast downstairs if anyone’s interested.”

“Coming!” She hugged Isaac. “I’ll forego breakfast in bed if someone else is

providing the meal.”

They took a quick shower together and went downstairs.

Isaac gave Dee a quizzical frown. “Hey. Didn’t know you were here.” He sat across from Chelsea and heaped his plate with sliced ham, eggs and toast. “Thanks, man. How did you know I was damn near starved?”

“Because you’re always damn near starved. Besides, after nearly firing my gun

into your head, it’s the least I could do.”

Both Isaac and Chelsea stopped and stared.

“What are you talking about?”

“I heard you come in around five this morning. Remembering your practice time,

I didn’t expect you to get here until much later. I got my gun and went downstairs. Luckily I saw your jersey just before I aimed at your head.”

Chelsea swallowed hard.

“Man, I got here around seven this morning, and I wasn’t wearing a jersey. I

don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“So that wasn’t you?” Skip’s eyes bucked. “Shit! Did you see or hear anything,

Chelsea?”

She shook her head and hoped Skip would read “please shut up” on her face.

“So you’re saying someone else was in here last night? This morning? Call the

cops.” Dee stopped eating. “I heard the noise before Skip did. That front door squeaks. Whoever it was came in the front door.”

“He was going to the hallway when I saw him, so I guess he left the same way he

came,” Skip said.

“Nobody broke in. The door was locked when I got here. How many dudes have

keys to your place?” Isaac’s face was laced with concern and maybe anger.

“Let’s just drop this, okay?”

“Hell no!” Skip grabbed his cell. “I’m calling David.”

“Skip, let it go. I’d rather not get into this now.” Chelsea was not ready for what she knew would be overreaction from Isaac.

Isaac stood over her. “You mean David, the cop? Is someone going to tell me

what’s going on?”

“Don’t look at me,” Dee answered. “I don’t know shit, but I’m starting to get

pretty damn scared. Tell us what’s going on. Skip?”

“Tell them, Chelsea, or would you rather have Isaac think you’ve got a handful of

keys floating around out there?” When she didn’t answer, his voice raised several octaves.

“You’re treating this like a joke and it’s not. Tell them, or I—”

“What I would rather is that Isaac not make stupid assumptions, and you keep you

damn mouth closed. He has a game tomorrow. I don’t want him worrying about this crap, and I can’t chance breaching my sworn—”

“Fuck that!” Skip exploded while Dee looked on in wonder. “I respect your

position, but right now I’m more concerned about your safety. Your life. I’m calling the cops, so you might as well tell them what’s going on.”

Isaac grabbed her shoulders. “What the hell is this all about, Chelsea? If you’re in trouble, I think I have a right to know.”

“Nothing.” She threw her napkin in the plate. “I’m prosecuting Curtis Hamilton. I found a threatening note on my car, someone let the air out of my tires, and I’ve had hang-ups and verbal threats at work. More than usual, and more than any of the other DDA’s. My boss thinks someone is trying to send me a message. You’ve met David. He’s been assigned to…I guess look after me. I don’t think it’s that serious. A colleague could have left that note on my windshield. I’m sure some of them expected to get this case. In fact, when the first calls came, it suspected a colleague. It could just be jealousy.”

“Damn!” Dee’s eyes widened. “This has been going on and you didn’t tell

anyone?” She looked across the table. “Well, you told Skip.”

“She didn’t tell me,” Skip added. “David did. There’s no use trivializing this,

especially now. I was hoping it was not serious, but someone was in here this morning. He was large enough for me to think it was Isaac, and he didn’t break in. That’s pretty fucking scary.”

“And you didn’t think you could tell me this?” The look on Isaac’s face was now

unmistakably anger. “Skip is right. Damn your position if your life is being threatened. Someone was here in your house last night. This morning. What would have happened if you had been here alone? Did this person say or do anything when you came downstairs, Skip?”

“He didn’t look up or I would have known it wasn’t you. I made it halfway down

the stairs and saw him walking down the hallway toward the living room. I saw your number on his back and thought it was you, which means he was a big dude. I didn’t see any facial features.

Nothing beyond the jersey.” He looked at his sister. “You said you would worry if this thing followed you home. Start worrying.”

Dee sat, stone faced and silent. Isaac paced the floor, pounding his right fist into his left palm and hurling angry expletives with an accent that brought attention to his heritage.

“I can’t believe you! What do you think work is supposed to mean, Chelsea?

Nobody expects you to put your life on the line for a job. I don’t even understand why that would be an issue. Everyone in Louisiana, possible the whole damn country knows about Curtis Hamilton. I don’t know why you’re opposed to David or anyone else looking out for your safety.”

“I’m not the first one in the department to get this kind of treatment. It happens a lot. I have a big case, so I’m getting a lot of heat.”

Isaac turned on his heel. “You mean this is routine? Men as well as women?”

“I don’t think people who terrorize actually practice sexual discrimination.” Chelsea stood. “Most of the people targeted are men since most of us are men. Whitney is the only woman I know of who went through this kind of torture.”

“Yeah, she was shot,” Dee said.

“You mean somebody was killed?” Isaac fell in step with Chelsea.

“Someone was killed once, but not Whitney. You were with me at her wedding to

Leander Perry. She’s now my boss. Everyone thought the threats were the result of a case she was prosecuting. Most of her problems came from personal relationships and her parents’

music business. Both are our families are hooked into the music industry, but to the best of my knowledge, no one in my family is connected the way her family was.” She took Isaac’s arm and glanced at Skip. “Unless you and my brother are doing something I don’t know about.”

“I don’t know what your brothers are doing but keeping this from me was deceitful, Chelsea. You know that boy’s family had targeted you and you didn’t think I should know about it?”

“Look, we don’t know where the threats are coming from. I found a message on my

windshield. Three days later, my two front tires were flat. Now you know everything I know.”

“And I don’t like it one damn bit of it.” Isaac looked at Skip. “Is that why you’re staying here?”

Skip dropped his head.

“Is it?” Chelsea asked.

“Actually, it is, and since I’m here, I’m calling David.”

Isaac took her arm. “If someone is assigned to keep you safe, where the hell was he this morning? Where is he now? I know the city is short on cops but—”

“We try and handle things like this internally with the police, especially in the middle of a trial. If it goes public, the media gets involved. It jeopardizes our case.”

Skip hung up the phone. “They’ll send someone around right away. I asked for

David. He’ll come, even if he’s not on duty. I agree with Isaac. This has gone too far, Chelsea.

Give that case to someone else or resign if you have to, but don’t put your life in danger for a job.”

“It’s not just a job, damn it!” she screamed, looking from Isaac to Skip. “It’s my career, just like football is your career. You take your life in your hands every day you’re on that field with five or six big ass guys banging into your body at the same time.”

They stared and Chelsea thought of the difficulty she had in choosing a career.

She had been encouraged to follow her father into dentistry and that was not at all to her liking.

Neither was music or restaurant management. Skip and her older brother, Charles, were musicians, record promoters and owners of a small recording station. She had worked with them while in college and found it distasteful. Her mother taught school, which was something she never aspired to do. When her mother had suggested she run their sandwich shop, she had quickly declined.

Once she joined the DA’s office, it had been difficult to sit back and watch the