Protecting What’s Mine: A Small Town Love Story

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Protecting What’s Mine: A Small Town Love Story Page 22

by Score, Lucy


  “You better.” She glanced at the clock on the wall, a mechanical machination of cogs and gears. “You’re heading out early.”

  “Gotta pick up Sunshine from my sister’s. Bec’s not a morning person on her days off,” he grinned.

  “I can pick her up,” she offered. She’d be home most of the day anyway. It wouldn’t hurt to have some fluffy company.

  Linc’s face lightened.

  “Don’t read anything into it,” she said defensively. “I like your dog. I’m off today. I can pick her up at a reasonable hour. This is not a marriage proposal.”

  He glanced down at his watch and then back up at her with a wicked grin. “That saves me fifteen minutes that I could use to do something else.”

  “Like what?” she asked with suspicion.

  He slid down her body to kneel on the floor in front of her.

  “Oh. That,” she said breathlessly.

  Those big, calloused palms slid up the outside of her thighs until they caught the hem of the sweatshirt. The soft material bunched as he shoved it to her waist.

  Stepping her feet wider, Mack complimented herself on being so accommodating and respectful of Linc’s truly excellent morning routine.

  “I dreamed about fucking you with my tongue last night,” he said, his breath hot on her bare skin.

  She watched in fascination as he pressed his mouth to the apex of her thighs. Blue eyes on her as he did so. The whimper clawed its way free from her throat when his tongue, that goddamn talented tongue, darted out and slipped into her cleft.

  “I can’t get enough of your flavor.” As if to demonstrate, he sank two fingers into her. She spread wider for him and watched as he pulled out and then sucked them into his mouth. Her knees quaked, and he took notice.

  “Get on the floor and spread your legs for me, Dreamy.”

  “What’s with you and kitchens?” she murmured even as she complied.

  “It’s you in kitchens and any other fucking room.” He groaned as she opened for him.

  “Is this floor clean?” she asked.

  “Clean enough to eat off of.” And with that he dipped his head between her legs and made her head spin. His tongue was relentless in its attack on her clit. His fingers—were there three now?—pumped into her, stretching that channel to its limits. And oh, did Mack like it.

  She couldn’t brace her left foot with the walking boot. But it didn’t matter anymore because he was looping her legs over his shoulders. He was devouring her.

  “Watch me lick you, Mackenzie. Watch me.”

  Lifting her head, their eyes connected. Her abs flexed hard as those overused inner muscles gave their first flutters.

  “Baby, I feel that,” he groaned reverently. He was on his stomach, his hips grinding into the unyielding concrete. “Squeeze my fingers.”

  She clamped down on him, gritting her teeth at the change in sensation. It was like forcing her orgasm from probably to definitely.

  He went back to torturing her with his tongue as he thrust into her.

  She couldn’t stop watching him as he fucked her with mouth and fingers. “Linc!”

  He growled in response.

  Bucking her hips, she ground into his mouth, begging for everything he could give her.

  “Goddammit. I love how greedy you are for me. How you ride my face because you can’t help it.”

  She was going to come. Or die. Or both.

  “Don’t you fucking hold back, Dreamy.”

  She didn’t. She couldn’t. He tore the orgasm from her and didn’t let up as she spiraled back down while every muscle clenched and released in a beautiful, gut-wrenching climax.

  Her head hit the floor with a dull thud. Her legs were jelly, her blood thrumming through her body as even now aftershocks milked Linc’s fingers.

  He groaned like he was in pain.

  “Give me your cock,” she said breathlessly.

  “I have to leave in five minutes, Dreamy.”

  “I only need four,” she said, sliding out from under him. “Get up.”

  They traded positions, she on her knees in front of him. He watched with a primal male pride when she knelt before him and loosened his belt. She freed him from his pants and delighted in the heavy thickness of his shaft.

  He pulled his shirt up, tucking it under his chin to watch her as she opened her mouth.

  “Fuck,” he groaned.

  She held his gaze while she took the tip into her mouth. Hot, hard, smooth. She used her hands. Her tongue. Her teeth to work his entire shaft. Now it was his knees that quaked as she traced veins with the tip of her tongue. When she teased the wet slit on the underside of his crown, he hissed.

  Aware of the time, she quit playing and attacked him with slick, tight strokes. When she brought him to the back of her throat and held him there, he let out a string of unintelligible dirty words.

  “I wish this was your sweet pussy. That I was buried inside you.” He let out a pained groan, and Mack tasted the beginning of his release.

  She hummed her approval and tightened her hand on the base of his shaft.

  Mindlessly, he shoved his hands into her hair and gripped. He fucked into her mouth in jerky, shallow thrusts.

  “I wish I was coming in your cunt, baby.”

  But he wasn’t. He was coming in her mouth.

  The force, the volume of it, the rawness of his release made Mack’s eyes water. She felt powerful, invincible as she watched him tip his head back, the cords on his neck standing out. She did this to him. She made him feel this way.

  His shout was triumphant as he emptied himself into her.

  A few more seconds, a few more jerky thrusts, and he slid to the floor next to her.

  She watched in fascination as that incredible specimen gave one last jerk, one last pump of come that leaked onto the ridges of his abs.

  “Holy shit, Dreamy.”

  “And look at that. You’ve got a whole minute to spare,” she said.

  “Evil temptress. I’m gonna need it just to get my legs back under me. Dinner tonight?”

  She should say no. They’d spent the last two nights together already. It was sending the wrong message.

  “Let me see what I have planned,” she said evasively.

  “I’m gonna need an IV to rehydrate,” he decided, coming to his feet. He reached down and helped her up.

  “I know someone who can help with that,” she said and pointed to her mug.

  His grin was boyish, and once again, she felt that uneven lurch in her chest. She should probably see about getting an EKG.

  Linc hastily pulled up his pants. “Thanks for taking Sunshine today.” He kissed her, hard on the mouth and soft on top of the head, before grabbing his smoothie and heading toward the door.

  She laughed when he stumbled in the doorway.

  “I’m lightheaded.”

  “Don’t forget to zip your fly, Hotshot,” she told him.

  “Don’t forget to report any suspicious basement lurkers,” he said. Then sobered. “I mean it, Mackenzie. If you see anything that doesn’t sit right with you, call Ty and then call me.”

  She gave him a salute. “Yes, sir!”

  Back to playful, he sent her an exaggerated wink. “Dinner tonight,” he called over his shoulder. “And don’t forget to meditate!”

  About thirty seconds after the front door closed, Mack’s phone buzzed on the counter.

  * * *

  Linc: Thanks again. For Sunny. And the bj.

  Mack: Don’t be weird.

  Linc: Feel free to stay and take another shower. Wi-Fi password is 4AlarmFire. Move in if you want or wait for me to do the heavy lifting.

  Mack: I see blow jobs damage brain cells.

  34

  Linc’s sister Rebecca—another replica of the Reed DNA—had been more subtle in her “what are your intentions with my brother” interrogation. Dressed in pajamas and a robe and clutching a cup of coffee, she invited Mack inside her neat and tidy two-story. />
  With her exit cut off, Bec quizzed her on how long she planned to stay in town and if she was enjoying small-town doctoring. All while telling her kids to turn the TV down and reminding her husband to take the car in for an oil change.

  Mack brought Sunshine back to her place, and they spent the rest of the morning working in the flowerbeds in the backyard because apparently weeding once was not enough. While Sunshine ran back and forth between the yards bringing Mack every dog toy and stick she could find, Mack gave the open gate a few contemplative looks, still not sure what to think of it.

  Presumptuous. Yes. Convenient. Also yes.

  He was already systematically pushing back on her claims that she didn’t want anything serious or complicated. Which meant she was going to have to push back harder. Maybe after dinner tonight. After all, she had his dog. Obviously, she’d have to see him at some point.

  Yes. Tomorrow she’d set firmer boundaries.

  After lunch and an afternoon meditation, she took Sunshine for ice cream and laughed at the metronomic tick of the dog’s tail as she wolfed down a small dish of vanilla.

  It was after three. And ice cream had been her one and only “fun” idea. The clinic was closed now, so there was no point stopping in unless it was to fall out of her chair again.

  Maybe fixing dinner would be fun?

  So she loaded Sunshine into her SUV and headed to the grocery store.

  “I’m so lame,” she complained to the dog in the passenger seat as she steered toward home with steaks and veggies to grill. “I can’t even come up with something spontaneous besides ice cream and grocery shopping.”

  Sunshine looked at her and blinked.

  “No. A nap is not spontaneous fun.”

  She was still trying to explain her predicament to the dog when she pulled in the driveway without noticing the rusty pickup parked on the street.

  Sunshine gave a warning boof at the slam of a car door. Mack looked up as she unloaded the bags from the hatch.

  He was tall, reed-thin in a way that suggested poor life choices. Early fifties if she had to guess. He walked like he had a purpose.

  “You Doc O’Neil?” he said. His teeth were yellowed, fingers and t-shirt dirty. There was a nasty, swollen bump swelling on his right forearm. He smelled vaguely of motor oil.

  “That’s right,” she said, dropping the bags at her feet to free her hands.

  “My nephew goes to jail, it’s on you,” he said and spat on the grass next to the driveway.

  “Your nephew is already in jail. And it’s on him.”

  “He didn’t do nothing wrong.”

  Sunshine gave another boof.

  “He put his girlfriend in the ICU and broke my ankle,” she said.

  She wasn’t worried about him in a physical fight. She was more than capable of taking on someone bigger and stronger. But if he had a weapon, well, she’d rather know it sooner than later.

  “My kind don’t like it when people stick their noses in our business.”

  “Are you armed, Mr. Kersh?”

  He snorted and ignored the question. “The kid was high. He can’t be responsible for his actions while he’s on that shit.”

  She sighed heavily. “We’re all responsible for our own actions, Mr. Kersh. Your nephew is an adult. He made choices. Bad ones. Maybe this will be a turning point for him.”

  His laugh had no humor in it and ended in a hacking cough. She noticed that his left hand rubbed gently at the bump on his right.

  “It weren’t no turning point for me,” he said. “It ain’t gonna do him any more good.”

  “I’m not dropping the charges, Mr. Kersh. And if you care about your nephew at all, you’ll let the legal system do its job. Your nephew’s best shot at a better life is taking his lumps and doing the time. He can get clean in prison, take classes, learn a trade. If that girl lives, he’ll be out before you know it.”

  “You can’t come after my family and not expect to hear from us,” he said with an almost mournful sigh. She wondered if his heart wasn’t in the warning.

  “I’m not coming after you. I’m playing by the rules. How long have you had that boil?” she asked.

  “Huh?”

  She pointed at his arm, and he covered the lump with his other hand.

  “It’s a boil, an abscess. Have you had it looked at?”

  “No. Only had it a couple of weeks.”

  His answer was short but carried a message. He didn’t appear to trust the medical community any more than he did law enforcement.

  “Look, if you’re not here to rough me up and you don’t have any weapons on you, I can take a look at it inside.”

  He looked confused. And non-threatening, she decided.

  Sunshine seemed to agree. She’d given up her guard dog stance and was rolling on her back on the grass.

  Mack held up her hands. “I’m a doctor. That looks painful. I can help.”

  “I’m not armed,” he said, still holding his arm. “But I’m not paying no hospital bills.”

  “Your fee is to hear me out when I say I’m not dropping the charges. I hold no ill will toward your nephew.” That wasn’t exactly true. She still wished she’d had the chance to knock a tooth out of his mouth herself. “But he did this, and he needs to pay for his mistakes.”

  “I disagree.”

  “As long as we can agree to disagree, you can help me carry these bags inside, and I’ll take a look at your arm.”

  She took two bags and let herself and Sunshine inside. She smirked when she heard the front door open again.

  He stood silently in the doorway of the kitchen, holding the rest of her bags.

  “You can put them on the counter and have a seat at the table,” she said. She turned on the overhead light and opened her med kit on the table. She unpacked alcohol swabs, gauze, saline, tape, a scalpel, and a syringe onto the table.

  “Now hold on there,” he said, water blue eyes going wide at the scalpel and needle.

  “Don’t worry,” she told him. “I’m a professional.”

  “Never knew a lady doctor before,” he mused.

  “What do you do for a living, Mr. Kersh?”

  “I work at Shorty’s garage. The other side of town.”

  There was pride in his voice.

  “Really?” Mack asked. She pulled on gloves before opening an absorbent pad and placing it on the table under his arm.

  “Shorty started me with tire rotations, oil changes. Easy stuff. Last week, I dropped a new engine in a Jeep, and I’m certified to do state inspections.”

  “I need an oil change like 5,000 miles ago,” she said, gently prodding the swollen tender skin. It was red and hot to the touch.

  “You really shouldn’t let it go that long,” Kersh chided her.

  “If I bring my truck in, will you promise not to dump sugar in the gas tank?”

  “Let’s see how this here boil goes first.”

  She chuckled. “That’s fair. Okay. So what I’m going to do is swab the skin down with alcohol. I’ll give you a little shot of numbing stuff. Then I’m going to use the scalpel to make an incision. You won’t feel a thing.”

  “I don’t need no sissy drugs.”

  “That’s what all the big, manly guys say before they start swearing and crying,” she said cheerfully. She swiped an alcohol pad over the area and uncapped the syringe. “Little pinch.”

  He looked away when she inserted the needle and made her think of a little kid trying to be brave. Wincing, he took in a breath through his teeth. Sunshine, sweet, innocent soul that she was, put her head on Kersh’s knee.

  He glanced down at her. “That’s a pretty dog,” he said.

  Sunshine’s tail thumped happily.

  “She sure is,” Mack agreed. “There,” she said, withdrawing the needle and dumping it in a sharps box.

  He breathed a sigh of relief.

  “Have you had a fever?” she asked, tearing the packaging off the scalpel.

  “
Dunno.”

  “An abscess is a bacterial infection. I have to open it up and drain it. Then I’ll wrap it up nice and clean and give you some antibiotics that you will promise to take exactly as prescribed. You don’t want to half-ass it and end up losing a chunk of your arm.”

  “No, ma’am.”

  She got up and ran a dish towel under hot water then placed it over the abscess. “We’ll give it a minute for the numbing to work. Do you want some water?”

  “Okay,” he said. “Thank you.”

  She filled two glasses, setting one in front of him.

  “Alright. Let’s see what we’ve got, Mr. Kersh.”

  “It’s Abner,” he said softly.

  It was a big ol’ pocket of nasty, and Mack was glad the man had chosen today to threaten her. She drained the pus carefully, then flushed the wound thoroughly with saline. “That’s got to feel ten times better already,” she guessed.

  “Seems to,” he said grudgingly.

  She gave it another flushing, then coated the wound with antibacterial cream before snugly bandaging it up.

  She was just affixing the last piece of tape when a knock on her screen door startled them both.

  “Benevolence PD, open up!”

  Kersh tensed, and Sunshine made a mad, barking dash for the new arrival.

  “Door’s open,” Mack called out. “Don’t worry,” she told her patient quietly.

  “Dr. O’Neil?”

  “Back in the kitchen.”

  The deputy, dark eyebrows knit together in a frown, entered. Her black hair was pulled sleek and tight in a stub of a ponytail. “Dr. O’Neil. I’m Deputy Tahir. I observed a suspicious vehicle in front of your residence.”

  Mack watched the deputy take in the stash of bloody gauze, the scalpel. Her kitchen did resemble a bit of a crime scene.

  “Nothing suspicious, deputy,” she said brightly. “Just having a look at my patient’s arm.”

  The deputy’s radio squawked something that Mack couldn’t make out. When the woman turned around to respond to the call, Mack pulled out a small bottle from her bag. “Mr. Kersh, this is doxycycline, an antibiotic. It’ll get you started, and I’ll send in a prescription to the pharmacy for the full course. Which you will take exactly as prescribed.”

 

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