Kat, Knight Watch (Iron Orchids Book 11)

by Danielle Norman

  By the time the evening ended, I knew several things. One, Jackson Boudreaux was hot. Two, I wanted to get to know him better—as in, up close and personal. And three, it was never too late to have your first one-night stand.

  Jackson

  We, as in Kat and I, slid out of the Uber in front of Kat’s house.

  “Shhh, my roommates are asleep. Are you sure that you don’t want to go back to your house?”

  “Can’t, my house is pretty much still packed.” That was partially true. But the main reason was that this was a no strings, one-night stand and I didn’t want to bring up the fact that my son was at home.

  Kat put one index finger against her lips. “Okay, follow me. My room is far away from theirs anyway.”

  She unlocked the house, turned off the alarm, and then relocked the door, but I mentally catalogued that she hadn’t reset the alarm. I followed her quietly upstairs, realizing that was intentional, her silent reminder that this was one-night, hit and quit.

  As soon as she closed and locked her bedroom door, I pressed my back against the wall and held out my arms, Kat walked into them. I pulled her flush against me so that she could feel just how rock-hard I was for her. Hell, my desire for her had been growing since the second I had first laid eyes on her. I tightened my grip on her waist as she swayed her hips from side to side, making sure to be in full contact with my arousal.

  “Okay there.”

  Kat giggled then popped one hand over her mouth.

  Cupping her firm ass, I lifted her, and she came willingly, wrapping her legs around my waist while I twisted to rest her against the wall. Digging my fingers through her hair, I stopped fighting the urge to devour her and brought my lips to hers. It was fire, frustration, and a fierce desire to taste every inch of Kat.

  Our tongues moved in rhythm, twisting, tangling with each other. She tasted of alcohol and the sweetness of honey.

  “Oh,” Kat moaned. “Ah. Bed.”

  I moved away from the door, praying that I wouldn’t trip over something. When my knees hit the side of the bed, Kat hopped down and stood before me. I bunched the bottom of her shirt up and lifted it before tossing it to the floor.

  “Yours too,” she panted.

  I capitulated, grabbing my shirt by the collar and tugging it off. By the time I could see again, Kat had her bra unhooked, and that joined my shirt in the growing pile on the floor.

  We resumed our kissing, our mouths hungry for each other, but after a second, I trailed my lips along the curve of her neck, the scent of her light perfume and the smell of her shampoo were more intoxicating than the beer I had consumed earlier.

  Her fingers were busy working on unfastening my belt as I unbuttoned her jeans. I slid one finger into her panties at the same moment she freed me, grabbed my cock, and squeezed.

  “Oh, god, Kat.” I tried to slow my breathing as she continued squeezing. “You’re so fucking wet.”

  “Why don’t we take this onto the bed?” she asked.

  I groaned. “I thought you’d never ask.” I pulled my hand free and then slid my jeans and boxers down while she kicked off her remaining clothes.

  I watched her crawl onto the bed, she was graceful, lean, very . . . cat-like. When I joined her, I pulled her against me and continued our kisses. Her soft hands grazed up and down my arms, sending shivers through my body.

  I slowly worked my way down her body, each perfect inch of it, taking a moment to kiss every delicate olive-skinned morsel and over her deliciously ripe breasts. I sucked on her left nipple and then her right before I continued my way down. Stopping to pay homage to the gods that built a body so perfect while I kissed the curve of her hips before lowering more until my shoulders were between her legs and my mouth was at her center.

  My tongue circled her clit before sliding in, making her moan. I continued the assault on her pussy as she writhed, and I took her to the edge of breaking, over and over until I feared she could take it no more. Then I slowly made my way back up her lean body. Pulling back, I leaned over the bed and grabbed hold of my jeans. Reaching into the back pocket, I pulled out a condom.

  I rolled the latex on and then positioned myself above her. I needed to see her eyes, make sure that this was still what she wanted, and when I saw what I was looking for (I would think about that last part later, much later), I plunged deep inside her.

  It was heaven—she was heaven. My mind whirled at the sensations. Touching the area where we were joined, I massaged her clit to take her over the precipice.

  I petted and pushed. Each thrust going deeper, Kat’s pants were driving me crazy, and I bit back my own groan when her body started to tighten around mine.

  “Holy shit, Jackson. Oh my god.”

  “You feel incredible.”

  Kat’s back arched, her legs straightened, and her skin flushed as she let out a loud gasp. Every part of her body tightened, which sent me over as well, crashing like the tide against a cliff.

  When our breaths had slowed, I gripped the condom and pulled out, then made my way to her en-suite bathroom to dispose of it. When I returned, Kat was still stretched out across the bed. I moved to the other side and tugged down the covers. “Crawl under,” I said and smiled as she shifted to the spot I’d indicated without arguing. “Give me a little bit, and I’ll be ready to go again.”

  “Ah, but the real question is, will I?” Kat said with a laugh and then curled into me, her head on my chest as she rubbed her legs back and forth along the sheets. Her palm rested on my abdomen for just a second before slowly making its way down.

  “What are you doing?” I asked.

  “Trying to see how long it takes you to recoup? How old did you say you were?”

  “Thirty-four.”

  “Wow, you’re old. You’ll need the little blue pill before too long.”

  “Not on your life.”

  “Do you have some age-phobia?”

  “Well, sort of, are you under eighteen?”

  Kat laughed. “Ewww, no. Twenty-six.”

  “Does that bother you?”

  “That I’m twenty-six?” Kat asked.

  “No, you goof, that I’m eight years older than you.”

  “Umm, no. Does it bother you?”

  “Not really. I enjoy being around you. I hadn’t really thought about there being an age gap.”

  Kat wove her fingers together and rested her chin against them on my chest, her dark, well-satisfied eyes staring up at me. “I think I feel older. Most of the time I feel like the oldest among my sisters because I take care of everything when there’s a problem. Maybe it’s because I’ve seen a lot in my line of work, or maybe because I’m just cynical.” She half laughed, but I could hear a little bit of sadness in her voice.

  Kat giggled. “Really, no blue pill? We’ll see.” She slid down the length of my body and took me into her mouth, slowly sucking on the broad head, paying close attention to the rim.

  “Oh, fuck,” I moaned as I dug my fingers into her hair, not sure if I was doing it to coax her or so I didn’t completely lose control.

  All night, we continued this way until we both passed out sometime after three in the morning.

  I came to consciousness just before five, and then I was hit with a crippling guilt for being out all night. Gingerly, I uncurled from her warm body that was like a siren, its song calling to me.

  I dressed as quickly and as quietly as I could and then slipped from her room, tiptoeing out of her house like a cat burglar…or was that Kat-burglar? I looked left and then right; somehow in our mad Uber make-out session I hadn’t noticed exactly how close we lived. Max had said a few houses down—he meant two, two down from me.

  Kat

  Yawning with hands thrown high up in the air, I stretched like a cat, which was kind of appropriate. That was when I could feel every part of my body that Jackson had touched. It was as if I could still feel his hands as they roamed over every inch of me and it had me rolling over, wanting to jump his body one more
time before I sent him home, but my hands hit cool sheets. I squinted and lifted my head, but he was gone. His clothes were missing, so I could only assume that he’d already left. Plopping my head back down, one arm thrown across my eyes, I waited a few seconds before slowly getting up and getting dressed in cutoff shorts and a T-shirt.

  “Kat. Kat!” Galena shouted as she wildly knocked on my door. “Are you decent?”

  “Yeah.” She pushed the door open and looked around. “He’s gone.”

  “Oh. We need you, now. Get downstairs. Our driveway, you need to see it.”

  Slipping on some flip-flops, Galena grabbed my hand and pulled me out through the garage toward where Petra was standing in our driveway. When she slammed to a stop and pointed, my jaw dropped. The word ‘whore’ was splashed across our driveway in red spray paint.

  The cop in me took over, and I mentally replayed last night’s events. Jackson and I had arrived to my house around twelve, but if this were there then, there was no way I would have missed it, so whoever had done it had to have done it sometime between then and when Galena found it. Maybe that person was even hanging around and watching our reactions.

  I glanced around, but the street was deserted and most of the driveways were empty of cars.

  “Don’t just stand there, do something!” Galena shouted.

  “Do what? We have no idea if this was just some random kid or if it was meant for one of us.”

  “You, it has to be you. You’re always pissing people off with your job. Hell, I work from home,” Galena defended.

  “There’s still Petra.” I looked at my somewhat-quiet sister.

  “Come on, it’s Petra, really?” Galena answered for her, and she was right; I couldn’t imagine Petra pissing anyone off.

  So, that left me. “I haven’t pissed off anyone, I swear. Hell, I haven’t dated in a while.”

  Petra coughed. “Last night.”

  “That was a one-night stand, not a date.”

  “I don’t care, can we take care of this before someone sees it?” Galena tapped her foot.

  “Let me put on some jeans and then call Kayson to see what he wants me to do.”

  “Why call Kayson?” Galena asked while still tapping her foot. I wanted to cut the fucking thing off at that moment.

  “Policy. This is vandalism and it happened at the home of a marked deputy. They just like to know these things in case it is officer-targeting.” She sighed and nodded, which I took as her acceptance of my explanation, and then I headed inside and back up to my room. My head was spinning as I grabbed my phone and dialed. My first urge had been to grab the pressure washer and remove the word, but it needed to stay there just in case.

  “Hey, what’s up?” Kayson said after the third ring.

  “Sorry to call you so early, but someone spray painted the word ‘whore’ in huge red letters across my driveway sometime between midnight and a little bit ago when Galena found it.”

  “Oh, shit. I heard you telling the girls last night about food on your bike. You think the two are related?”

  “No. One was at a bank and one was at my home.”

  “Yeah, but both happened to your property. Was anything else damaged or messed with?”

  “I didn’t look, but I don’t think so. Galena would have mentioned—or rather, shouted it.”

  Kayson chuckled for a second. “Okay, well, I want you to check just to make sure. While you do that, I’ll call a roadie and have them swing by, let’s make a record of this just in case things continue.”

  “Thanks, Kayson.”

  “No problem. Let me know if anything else turns up.”

  “I will. Promise.”

  Once we’d disconnected, I changed and headed back outside to where my sisters stood. “You two go change. Kayson is sending a deputy over to do a report.” They were both still in their pajamas.

  “How are we going to get that off?” Galena whined.

  “Once the report is done, I’ll grab the pressure washer and blast it away. Before you go in, why don’t you two grab one of those blue tarps from the garage to cover this up. We can use some of those large rocks to hold it down.”

  Thankfully, they listened, and headed to hunt down the tarp. I scanned the road once more. This time, there was someone making their way toward me. A little boy.

  “What’s dat say?”

  I looked down at the pint-size kid. “It says . . .” Ummm, what did it say? “It says Oreo, but they spelled it wrong.”

  “I like Oreos.” He tilted his head as he stared at me with eyes that were trying to look into my soul, like some little demon spawn. Okay, not demon spawn, but I didn’t do kids. “Oreos start with an O, that’s a W, w sounds like wa-wa.”

  “Very good. You better go home.”

  “I live right dere.” He pointed to where a young woman was sitting on a blanket and reading; she had one eye locked firmly on the kid.

  “Wa-oreo, woreo,” he repeated over and over, trying to sound out the word. Yeah, his mom over there was going to kill me, because there was no mistaking what he was trying to say. “Okay, kid.”

  “Not kid. I’m Julien, and I’m four. How old are you?”

  “Where’s the tarp?” I yelled.

  “Here it is.” Galena ran it over to me.

  “Help me spread it out and then go change.” She did as I ordered, shocker. I tried to ignore the kid but couldn’t help but smile when he grabbed a rock and let out a loud heaving sound as he carried it over to the tarp and dropped it on one corner.

  “Thanks, whatever your name is, but you better get home.”

  “Julien, my name is Julien.”

  “Yeah, Julien. You better go home; I’ve got work to do.”

  I saw two cruisers turning onto our street and knew that I needed to get rid of the nosy kid.

  “Can I watch? I won’t get in da way.” He brought one finger up and crossed his heart.

  “Can you watch from your house?” He shook his head. “Then watch from over there.” I pointed to the house between ours. He followed my command and moved to sit.

  “Who’s the kid?” Galena asked as she and Petra came back out.

  “No clue, but he’s sort of like herpes, I can’t figure out how to get rid of him,” I said under my breath.

  Galena smacked my shoulder. “That’s horrid, Kat, he’s an innocent little boy, be nice to him.”

  The two cruisers came to a stop in front of our house just as a motorcycle pulled up. I couldn’t hold back my smile at the sight of Harley. She only lived, like, two miles away, so I wasn’t particularly shocked that she had responded to the call.

  Petra and I removed the rocks and then Galena folded the tarp.

  “What the fuck?” Harley asked as she squeezed my shoulder.

  “Shh, there’s some kid watching us.” I pointed to the little boy.

  “Whose kid?”

  “Neighbor’s.” I nodded to the house the boy had indicated and found the woman was walking toward Julien.

  “Galena and Petra”—I pointed to the two road deputies who were walking up the driveway—“that’s Colton and Enzo.” They all shook hands. These two guys were absolutely funny as hell and committed to forever being road deputies, and at one time or another, just about all of us had worked with them. I might be the only female on the force who hadn’t slept with them.

  “What time did you first notice this?” Enzo asked.

  “A little after eight this morning,” Galena answered.

  “When was the last time you were outside, and it wasn’t here?”

  “Around nine last night,” Petra answered.

  “I didn’t go anywhere,” Galena replied.

  Everyone looked at me. “Midnight.”

  No one said anything except for Harley, who muttered, “Alone?”

  “Okay then, it happened sometime last night,” Enzo replied, and we all nodded. “Any of you receive any threats lately, verbal, or feel like some is trying to intimidate you?�
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  “No,” I replied. Galena and Petra shook their heads.

  “Have any of you recently began or ended a relationship, maybe have a jealous ex?” Enzo asked, but my eyes were focused on Max, who looked like he had something to say but didn’t.

  “I had company last night, but it isn’t a . . . relationship, really.”

  Harley held out her hand for a high-five. Galena shook her head and Petra gave me a reassuring smile.

  “Do you know where he lives?” Enzo asked.

  “No. I only know his name.”

  “He lives right there. Next to me,” Max said as he walked up to the group of us. His name is Jackson Boudreaux.”

  “That’s my daddy,” the little boy replied. The woman scooped up the kid and headed back to their house.

  Harley, my sisters, and I gave each other looks, the kind of look that said so much with zero words.

  “All right then, I’ll snap a few photos, talk with this Mister”—Enzo looked down at his notepad—“Boudreaux, and then get this wrapped up. I’ll let you know if I learn anything important.”

  “Thanks, Enzo.” I turned to my sisters and Harley. “Let’s go inside for a second and chat. Max, thanks for stopping by, I’ll talk with you later.”

  “You sure?” he asked, and I nodded. “Let me know if they find out anything.”

  “I will. Promise.” I turned and headed inside, my sisters close on my heels.

  “He’s married?” Harley hissed.

  “That’s his son? Was that his wife?” Petra asked.

  “How old was this guy, that girl looks barely older than Alyssa?” Galena asked.

  “Give me a second. I flat out asked, and he said that he has been divorced for, like, two years. He never mentioned a son, granted we didn’t allow a lot of time to delve into our personal lives, but a kid is sort of a big thing. He’s thirty-four,” I said, each part to the person who had asked that question. “I’m pissed. Believe me. I don’t do baggage, and I don’t do married men.”

  “So, you think he lied?”

  “I have no idea.”

  “If I see him again, I’ll cut off his balls,” Harley seethed.