His finger twisted it back and forth on my hand, and I loved it.
“You’re kidding me?” Miller said in denial.
I looked up, smiling when Miller stopped short of the house.
Disengaging my hand from his, I got out and walked up to Brock who was sitting in the bucket of the track hoe, kicked back reading the newspaper.
“You ready?” I asked.
He eyed me up and down, I assumed surveying for an injury, but said nothing else. Only stood and walked around to the track hoe’s side, and climbed into the seat.
“Let’s do it.”
With that he rounded his arm high above his head, causing Maine to nod on his own piece of machinery. Followed shortly by the rest of my crew.
Then they demolished Linda’s house and all the memories that went with it.
***
“You’re a fucking nut,” he said, shaking his head in denial. “That was a perfectly good house. You could’ve given it to someone.”
I nodded. “Yeah, I sure could have. I’ve given quite a bit to this community, though. It was time I did something for me. That house has a lot of negative memories in it. I needed it to go.”
He opened the truck door for me, and I waved at the guys who were still picking up the rubble while the neighborhood watched, before getting inside.
He leaned in, gave me a possessive kiss on the mouth, and walked to his side of the truck.
“You wanna go see what I’ve been working on?” Miller asked, eyes shining with mirth as he continued to watch the house come down in a pile of rubble, and splinters of wood.
I grinned at him, wrapping my hand around his, and nodded. “Anything you want to do, I’m there. Unless it’s cleaning. I don’t like to clean.”
He winked. “Dually noted.”
The drive was a lot longer than I’d thought it’d be, but really it was only twenty minutes or so outside of the city.
“That’s where Nico lives,” he said, gesturing to the massive black gate without taking his hand off the steering wheel.
My eyes widened as I saw the man in question walking down the drive.
Shirtless.
I licked my lips.
The man was gorgeous, and his dark looks and brooding personality only seemed to add to his appeal.
“Where are we going? I thought this was a dead end,” I said, tearing my eyes away from Nico.
Nico’s wife, Georgia, was a new friend of mine, and I felt it prudent not to ogle her husband.
Nico raised his hand to us as we passed, and I waved back at him.
Miller didn’t even bother with anything more than a chin lift, which Nico returned before we passed him.
“You’re not answering me,” I said, looking at Miller’s face.
He was grinning. Smiling so wide that I feared his next actions.
Veering off the road, he pulled into a driveway that I’d never seen before, on the opposite side of Nico’s property.
“What… oh, my God! That’s the old Holmes Homestead! When did they get an entrance on this side? Hey, they painted, too!” I said in surprise.
The Holmes Homestead was somewhat of a fairytale in Kilgore.
The Holmes Homestead was one of the oldest and most beautiful places in the state. It’d been featured on the cover of many magazines for quite some years now.
It’s known mostly for the millions and millions of bluebonnets that graced its rolling pasture land during the year.
They didn’t allow the public to cross their land, but if we were lucky, some of the bluebonnets would grow underneath the fence, and we could take some pictures in them on the side of the road.
I hadn’t realized, though, that there was another entrance.
“How’d you find this?” I asked warily.
He grinned. “I saved the granddaughter last month when she fell from her horse. The granddaughter was six and lost. I found her wandering along the side of Stone Road, scared and cold.”
“So they’re letting you go on their land?” I asked worriedly.
I really, really didn’t want to get sent to jail for trespassing, which was something the Holmes’ did on occasion. They hated when people came onto their land to take pictures; which was something someone inevitably tried to do every year.
“Actually,” he said, getting out of the truck. “It’s ours.”
I followed him. “What’s ours?”
He gestured to the house.
It was a massive house with huge white pillars in the front holding up the porch and second-floor balcony.
It’d been repainted lately. No longer was the paint peeling and flaking. Now it was a beautiful white, with red accents.
“The house.”
I froze, turning around to look at him.
“It’s our house,” he said again when I didn’t say anything. “The place is ours. The Holmes family sold it to me.”
“What-how?” I asked, my mind reeling.
This place had to have cost a fortune.
“I told you I had money. Well… not much anymore, but I put down a fuckin’ whack on this house to buy it. I’d heard you talking about it the other day to Memphis. About how beautiful it was. So I went and asked, and it must’ve been the right time to do so, because Old Mr. Holmes decided to sell. His kids live in Alaska and have a good business going up there. There’s no reason not to sell. He moved to Alaska to spend more time with his grandkids, and I got his house,” he explained.
I got out of the car and warily walked across the front lawn.
“This is what you’ve been doing over the last week?” I gasped, running my hands along the red pillars that graced the front porch.
He winked. “Yeah, me and the boys have been busting our ass to make it livable. Foster says you owe him a month’s worth of home-cooked meals.”
“Foster can move in, for all I care. This place is the freakin’ bomb!” I said excitedly, rushing up the steps.
I tried the door, but it was locked.
“It’s locked,” I said smartly.
He winked, and then reached into his pocket, withdrawing his massive key ring, and handed it to me. “It’s the new one.”
It was easy to find.
All the keys on his ring were bronze, or really old looking.
The only new looking one on the entire ring was incredibly easy to spot.
The inscription on the key said, ‘Mercy Me.’
I tossed him a smile, then opened the door, gasping at the sight before me.
“Oh, it’s beautiful!” I squealed, jumping up and down. “Uh-oh. Those are stairs. I’ve never had stairs before. Those should prove exciting when I’m as big as a house in a few months.”
His eyes widened as he took in the stairs, me, and then the stairs again. “I can move everything downstairs…”
I snorted. “I was just kidding. I think I can handle the stairs. Don’t worry.”
I could tell by the look on his face that he was going to worry, but I chose not to make a big deal of it, and went about touring the house.
“Oh, wow,” I said. “This kitchen is beautiful.”
The countertops were a dark, slate gray. “Are these concrete?”
He nodded. “It was interesting seeing those going in. Your men are miracle workers.”
“My crew did this?” I asked, turning to look at his face.
“Yep,” he said, pointing at the cabinets. “They did those, too. The guys and I just focused on the things we were good at. Such as painting and the floors. The back deck was us, too.”
I followed him through the house as he pointed out this and that. He sounded so proud of what he’d done, that it nearly made me laugh.
I managed to hold it in, though.
“And this,” he said, stopping at a closed door. “Isn’t either one of ours.”
I blinked.
When he opened the door, I gasped.
; “Oh,” I breathed.
I walked into the room slowly, taking in the soft gray walls, and the dark gray carpet.
There wasn’t much more than that to see, except for one, single thing.
“It’s beautiful,” I said, running my hands slowly over the beautiful wood. “Where’d you get it?”
“Online,” he said, running his hand over the wood, too. “I got round because I thought it was cool. All the other cribs looked bland in comparison.”
The crib was a unique one that was for sure.
It was completely round with a gray tint to it. The structure and craftsmanship of the crib was exquisite.
“It’s beautiful, Miller. I love it.”
Tears started to slowly leak from my eyes, and I turned to see him staring at me, studying my face with a small smile kicking up the corner of his lips.
“I’m glad you like it,” he rumbled. “It’s non-refundable.”
I snorted. “You’re such a shit.”
He pulled me into his arms, and walked me out of the room, taking me to the last door that we’d yet to see.
“And this,” he said, throwing open the door. “Is our room.”
It was massive. The walls were a similar color to the rest of the house, but the crown molding at the top of the ceilings really made the color pop.
The only thing in the entire room, like the baby’s bedroom, was a bed.
This one was a four-poster king-sized behemoth.
“Wow,” I said, walking up to the bed and flopping the top half my body down onto it. “This thing is massive.”
“It’s big enough to get the job done,” he agreed, pushing up behind me.
Suddenly, my mind wasn’t on the décor anymore. Now it was focused on more important things. Such as the fact that I’d just married the man currently grinding his massive cock into the crack of my ass.
He slowly slid his hands around my hips, zeroing in on the apex of my thighs.
Once his hands reached their desired location, he started to rub along the seam of my jeans, rubbing me so perfectly that I moaned in need.
“I think we should have some married sex. See how it compares to non-married sex,” he rumbled, going down to his knees behind me.
I went up to one hand and jerkily unbuttoned my jeans.
The rasp of the zipper was loud in the empty room, seeming to echo off the walls.
I swallowed thickly and waited with impatience as he slowly slipped my jeans down over my hips.
His hot mouth started to trail kisses up the inside of my thighs as he lifted and tugged my tennis shoes free from my feet.
Then leisurely divested me of my socks, pants, and panties.
I gasped when he licked the seam of my sex, his tongue poking into my folds as he licked me from my clit all the way to my perineum.
“Oh, sweet mother Mary,” I gasped, eyes rolling into the back of my head.
His tongue went to town, teasing my clit, licking my juices up, and fucking me to the best of his ability. Which was fucking great.
There was never one thing I’d complain about with Miller. He always read me like an open book and never failed to get me hot and bothered.
“Please,” I gasped, pushing back into him.
He chuckled against my pussy, rubbing his nose and lips up and down my thigh. “Please, what?”
“Fuck me.” I gasped out.
“Fuck me… please? Fuck me… now? Fuck me… husband?” he asked for clarification.
Some of the lust haze cleared, pulling my mind back to the here and now long enough to say, “Fuck me now, husband, please.”
Oh, man, it felt awesome saying those words.
So I said it again. “Husband, I want you now. I want your hot, fat cock inside me, filling me up so full that I can’t see straight. I want you to dig your feet into the carpet at our feet and pump me so full of you that I…yes!”
He filled me with his cock so quickly that I never even had time to think.
One second I was talking dirty to him, and the next he was inside of me, pumping so hard and fast that I couldn’t catch my breath.
His hand went up and ripped the band from my hair, causing my long brown locks to fall into a tangled mess against my back, which was what he’d obviously wanted.
He took a firm hold with one hand, while the other went to my hip.
“Feel good?” he asked, rotating his hips so the head of his cock ground against that sensitive spot inside me that only he’d been able to reach.
No one made me feel the way Miller did.
The only thing I could do was grunt in affirmation as I closed my eyes and clawed at the bare mattress, looking for purchase where there wasn’t any.
“H-harder,” I said, needing something more.
I could practically hear the smile in his voice. “What else do you want, baby girl?”
I closed my eyes and whispered. “Your eyes. You on top, filling me hard, staring into my eyes as I come.”
He slowed to a stop, then slowly withdrew from my body with a groan.
Once again, the sound echoed off the room’s empty walls as he moved back and gave me room to turn over.
“Go to the middle of the bed,” he said, shucking his shirt and pants. “And lose your top.”
I sat forward and pulled my shirt off my body, tossing it across the room as I fell back into place.
He grinned and crawled up between my splayed thighs, prowling as he came.
His rigid cock bounced, the skin of his length, shiny with my wetness.
A bead of pre-cum gathered on the tip, and I licked my lips, wanting to lick it so bad I could barely stay in place.
He moved too fast though, fitting himself between my thighs and sliding back in with no resistance whatsoever.
My mouth dropped open in a silent scream as he filled me, once again.
His beautiful blue eyes stayed locked on mine as he moved faster and faster.
My breasts jolted with each smack of hips. Each thrust moved me further and further up the bed until my head was hanging slightly off the other side.
“Harder?” he asked, studying my face.
I nodded. “Harder.”
He growled, ramping up his speed until the sharp smack-smack-smack of our bodies cheered us on.
“Oh,” I said when the first signs of my pending orgasm started to pour over me.
My nipples beaded, and my clit swelled.
My eyes narrowed to slits, and I stayed connected with him as his cock stroked my orgasm out of me.
“Yes,” I breathed, making his eyes clench shut tightly at the pleasure in my voice.
He grunted hard, the muscles of his arms bunching on either side of my head.
Our heartbeats sped, and my voice left me as he started to release inside of me.
Long seconds later, I came back to earth with Miller collapsed on top of me, his sweaty, muscled body pinning me down between him and the mattress.
“We’re gonna make a mess on the new bed,” I said breathily.
He grunted.
“We’ll see about that,” he said, pushing his arms around my back and standing with me.
I squeaked as he stayed firmly inside of me as he walked us to the bathroom.
“Now we’ll break in the shower. The rest of the house happens tomorrow.”
I giggled and kissed his neck.
“That’ll be the day.”
***
Miller
I walked up the stairs to our apartment, thankful that it’d be the last night there.
Nothing against apartment living, but I was tired of living so close to people.
It gave me the creeps to have someone not just below me, but on either side of me, too.
“I’m surprised you didn’t somehow find a magical way to get all of our stuff over there,” Mercy said beside me.
I looked down at her, still just as thankful now,
seven hours after she’d been released from the bank, as the moment I’d witnessed it happening.
I wasn’t really sure what the hell happened with me.
All of a sudden, though, I just knew.
I knew she was going to have to be my wife, and I had to have it done right then and there, or everything wouldn’t be all right.
I admit, I’d overreacted, but I couldn’t help it. She just brought out a side of me that wasn’t very caring of anybody’s opinions but my own.
“That day will forever be ingrained inside my head. I don’t ever want to witness that again, feel what poured through me when I realized you were in there,” I said quietly.
She squeezed my hand. “I’m sorry, Miller. I wish I could take it back, make it not happen.”
“If it hadn’t happened, we wouldn’t know that Linda Moose was behind the whole thing,” Foster said from the top of the stairs.
He was leaning against the side of the door, one hand wrapped around a beer bottle, and the other scratching the back of his head.
“Wait,” I said, halting our forward momentum. “You’re telling me Linda was in on this, too?”
“Oh, it gets even better,” Foster said, swinging the door open wide.
As we stepped inside, I came to a halt at our front door, surprised to see not only the men from the SWAT team, but the Chief, Mercy’s father, as well as a few of the men from Free.
Free was the organization that James belonged to, as well as Sam.
It all started when the unit Sam had been captain of started to disband.
When they all retired from the army, they started a custom motorcycle shop. On the side, though, they had somewhat of an underground railroad where they helped women, children, and even some men, get free of abusive relationships.
They set them up with a new life, sometimes nearly all the way across the country from where they’d previously lived.
“What’s with all the cars?” Mercy asked at my back as she closed the door behind us. “You having a going-away party in there?”
Foster snorted. “Actually, no.”
With that, he started gesturing to the men and introduced the ones to Mercy that she didn’t know.
“This is Gabe, Max, and Jack. They’re all partial owners of the custom motorcycle shop, Free. They’re also aware of what I’m about to tell you.”
I blinked, surprised.
Code 11- KPD SWAT Box Set Page 78
