by Judy Kentrus
“I’m so ready for you. No more teasing.” He opened his arms in invitation. “Come here, minx. Straddle my lap.”
Her palms were sweating when she linked their fingers. “We are in this together. Remember, I love you.” She swung her leg over his hips and wrapped her fingers around his throbbing hardness. With infinite care, she slowly lowered herself on his hot, thick length and brought him home. She hadn’t made love with anyone in a long time, and she gently rotated her hips to adjust to his large size. Then he was completely inside. They were one. Her eyelids fluttered closed and she wallowed in the sexy realm of heat meeting heat. He was hers, finally.
The hand that guided him into her body was the key to open the dam of trepidation he’d kept back for seven years. Incredible sensations exploded throughout every part of his body and awakened dormant nerve endings. The moment he was inside, he moaned from the stunning reality that he was fully joined with the woman he loved, his Cindi Pearl.
At his groan, her eyes flew open, wondering if she’d done something wrong. His eyes were closed and he appeared to be frozen in time. His hands still gripped her hips. “Are you in pain?”
A single tear slid down his cheek, and he opened his eyes to gaze upon the angel who’d erased one of his deepest fears. “You took me by surprise.”
She leaned forward and planted nibbling kisses on his lips. “Did I screw up?”
“No, my love, you screwed down. I’ve never felt anything more incredible or healing. I love being inside you, but I’ve really got to move because I’m about to explode. Tell me you are on the pill because I’m not wearing any body armor.”
“I’m protected.” She wiggled her hips, and if possible, he seemed to swell inside her. “You haven’t kissed me once, so would you mind correcting that error?”
He claimed her mouth with a consuming kiss, and started to move, slowly at first, not wanting to hurt her. His Cindi, his beautiful love, accepted everything he gave. Their moans of pleasure blended with each smooth plunge. When he couldn’t hold back anymore, he quickened his strokes and released years of pent-up denial and longing.
Moonlight painted the naked bodies of the entwined lovers. Neither had given a thought to the passage of time as they created a paradise of their own making.
“I love you, Cindi Pearl. My heart is so full of love for you, it could burst.” He tightened his arm about her shoulder and played with the silky strands of her hair brushing her shoulder. “How come you didn’t look at my leg when you first saw me in the shower?”
“It wasn’t a priority. You said you loved me in one sentence and then suggested we cool it in another.”
“I’m sorry you misunderstood. I meant we should cool our hot bodies in the pond.”
“It’s a lame excuse, but an acceptable explanation.”
“Did you really tell the kids I was a selfish asshole?”
“No,” she laughed. “I said you had an emergency. Terry and Belinda brought me home.” Cindi was quiet for a troubled moment and let her eyes travel down his shortened leg. “Does it hurt?”
He cautioned himself not to panic when he saw where she focused her attention. “Not now. Sometimes, when I push myself too hard, it gets a little sore. Why?”
She sat up and traced his chin with her finger. “Can I touch your leg?”
Once again, she took him by surprise. She was amazing. “Why?”
“I’m curious.”
“Just don’t run out of here with the screaming memes because it’s disgusting.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. It’s part of you.”
“I’ll understand if you change your mind.” He padded the back of his head with his hands and spread his legs a little more, offering himself up to inspection. It’s okay, it’s going to be okay, he told himself. “I’m all yours.”
“You certainly are.” Cindi knelt at the bottom of the bed and lovingly caressed the stump with the tips of her fingers. “It’s hard, yet soft and so strong. I can’t imagine what you went through.”
“Your fingers feel like velvet against my skin,” he said with a sigh of pleasure, before sharing his private thoughts. “It wasn’t so much the physical pain, but emotional. When it first happened, a person’s first instinct is survival, followed by the shock of losing a part of your body. In bed, especially at night, your mind explodes with all the things you won’t be able to do. For me, it was from surfing, skiing and running right down to getting up in the middle of the night and walking to the bathroom. My right foot was gone, so how would I be able to drive a car? A friend of mine lost both legs, and he joked we would be saving money on shoes. The psychologists and physical therapists were great. Everyone assured me I would have my life back as soon as I got the prosthesis. I didn’t think so at the time, but they were right.” He lifted his head slightly to enjoy her irresistible body. Her delectable upturned breasts had tasted delicious and he was eager to sample more, a great deal more. “Other than medical personnel, you are the only person to touch me.”
Cindi continued to lovingly caress the rounded tip. “What gave you the idea you wouldn’t be able to make love? Another falsity,” she added with a grin.
“It was just after I started physical therapy with my artificial limb. A guy’s wife came in to visit while he was working out. An adjustment was needed, so they had to remove his prosthesis. They wanted her to be familiar with the removal and encouraged her to help. Once it was removed, she stared in horror at her husband’s injury and ran out, saying she couldn’t bear to touch the ugly limb.”
“She was a cruel bitch.”
“I was too happy learning how to walk with my new leg to give it too much thought. When it happened a few more times, the experience planted a grim seed in my brain. What woman would want to look at or touch me, with or without my prosthesis?”
“You are beautiful, all of you.”
When she lowered her head and brushed his skin with her lips, his heart soared. Her heartfelt giving was the most wonderful thing he’d ever felt. “I’d go through every pain-filled horror again if I knew it would bring me to you.”
Tears rushed down her cheeks, and she wiped them away with the corner of the sheet. The tightness in her chest was from the love she had for this very special man. She crawled on all fours and threw herself against his chest.
“Don’t ever think you aren’t capable of physically satisfying me. The second and third time, you were on top, and from the look of your jackhammer, you are primed and ready for round four.”
“I have a lot of years to make up for.” He grinned and rolled on top of her.
Sunday morning, Cindi invited him to go to church and then breakfast at the Spoonful. The place was packed, as usual, and they were lucky to be seated in a booth without too long a wait.
Sallie Mae passed them red leather-bound menus and sensed a change in two of her favorite people, especially Preston Reynolds. He appeared more relaxed, comfortable with himself. Then a light bulb of understanding went on in her head. She bent down and whispered something in Preston’s ear before announcing the day’s specials.
He winked and gave her a thumbs-up.
“Tell me she didn’t just ask if we’ve had sex?” Cindi questioned in a hurried whisper behind her menu.
“Okay, I won’t tell you that.”
“It’s a wonder she didn’t ask how many times.”
“Six.” He winked before holding the menu in front of his grinning face. He felt like a million dollars. No, make it a trillion dollars. Who knew that making love on a wooden dock, watching the sun rise, could be so exhilarating and satisfying? The swim that followed had topped off their welcome of the new day. It blew his mind when Cindi helped him remove his device and protective sleeve. They were soon joined by Cupcake and Muffin. Donut had stretched out on their towels. Preston was inclined to jump in the air and click his heels, but that was something he wasn’t quite capable of doing. Maybe someday.
They gave their orders to the waitress and sam
pled some of the Danish pastries on the table, prepared by Samantha. There would be no need to advertise her new shop. Word of mouth was already spreading the news about her delicious baked goods.
“What would you like to do today?” Cindi asked before sipping her orange juice.
All he did was grin.
“Women of the world, beware. PJ Reynolds is back in the saddle.”
“I beg to differ with you, Cindi Pearl. There is only one woman who will man the reins on this stud.”
Cindi shook her head and leaned over the red Formica-topped table. “We are nuts, absolutely nuts. This conversation is ridiculous.”
A very satisfied gleam filled his eyes. “Speak for yourself. Cindi Pearl, I haven’t been this happy in a long time.”
“Me either.” She had delicious aches in her body, ones she would gladly suffer for a lifetime.
“Okay, what is the second or third thing you would like to do today?” She captured his hand and linked their fingers. “Seriously.”
“I’d like to take a ride to the closest mall and check out a couple of men’s stores. I could use a few pairs of shorts. When we get back, maybe we can take care of my first priority.”
“Deal.” She blushed. She really could use a nap. Sleep had been the last thing on both their minds during the night.
They were just about to leave when Cindi noticed a couple approaching the booth. The older woman looked a great deal better than she had the last time they’d sat at a board of directors’ meeting of the soap box derby organization.
“Cindi Pearl, I thought that was you.”
“Mildred, how are you? You are looking well.” Cindi had always wondered how the woman could see out of her Coke-bottle-thick glasses. She favored loose, flowery dresses and a thick application of makeup to appear years younger than her early sixties. Her black hair was caught in a neat bun atop her head, but the white streak following her hairline reminded Cindi of the bride of Frankenstein.
“The bypass operation was successful, but my physical activities are still low-key. I won’t be able to get involved with the soap box derby again for quite a while.”
“I’m glad everything worked out. Mildred Cummings, I’d like you to meet Preston Reynolds. We work together at Adams Security, and he’s helping me reconcile the soap box derby accounts.” She kept it to herself that there was a great deal of money missing. Cindi caught the way Mildred’s back stiffened the moment she mentioned the derby accounts.
“There shouldn’t be any problems,” she quickly stated. “I took over for my husband and have kept the financial records for ten years. I’ve been an accountant for thirty-five years, and my end-of-the-year balance sheets were perfect.” Mildred put a hand to her chest, drawing attention to various gold-and-diamond rings on her fingers. “Pardon my manners. This is my son, Harold. He’s been by my side through this terrible ordeal.”
Preston acknowledged the introduction with a nod, but never held out the hand he’d tightened into a fist. He already knew the man to be single and thirty-nine. He drove a garbage truck for a living. They’d just been formally introduced to the person who dumped the bags of garbage in the barn and kidnapped Donut, Cupcake and Muffin. Preston was tempted to punch the guy in the mouth for the insults he’d spray-painted on Cindi’s car, but that would only reveal the ongoing investigation. The bastard’s time would come.
Chapter 11
After running into the two people Preston knew to be the cause of Cindi’s problems, he decided to bring everyone up to date on his findings. He’d spoken with their boss the previous evening, and Lincoln confirmed he would be available Monday morning and would invite Jessie as an official police presence.
Cindi sat at the conference table in Lincoln’s office and nursed her mug of much-needed coffee, hoping the caffeine would hurry up and do its job. She avoided eye contact with the sexy stud who had kept her up half the night. He had more stamina than a real construction jackhammer. She’d had no intentions of spending the night in his bed, but he was so damn hard to resist. This morning he was dressed in dark gray tailored trousers and a lighter gray shirt. Why did he have to choose that particular rose-striped tie to wear this morning? She yawned and patted a polite hand in front of her mouth. “Sorry, didn’t get much sleep last night.”
“It must have been the thunder and lightning,” Jessie remarked and smiled when her husband set a cup of coffee on the table in front of her. “It woke up the entire house. Edie came into our room to announce we were not to be scared because the angels were bowling.” Jessie adjusted the belt on her uniform trousers. At the rate she was expanding, she would have to switch to maternity clothes in the next few weeks.
“It wasn’t the kettle drums of Mother Nature,” Cindi grumbled and sipped more coffee.
Jessie caught her statement and fluttered her eyelashes in a way that said hubba-hubba.
“Love is in the air,” Linc said, taking a seat next to his wife.
Preston wasn’t the least bit embarrassed they knew he’d made love to Cindi. Nothing could dampen his happiness. He took a seat at the table next to his love and forced himself not to touch her. The soft pink of her blouse reminded him of the wild mountain laurel bordering the pond. Last evening, after cooling off in the tepid water, they’d stretched out on the dock. He’d feathered the tip of her beautiful breast with a delicate flower and savored the hardened crown with his mouth. Then he nipped his way down the center of her body and sampled the delicious sweetness between her legs. He was out of his mind in love with her. A yawn accidently escaped.
“Insomnia must be contagious. It’s almost an epidemic at our house,” Linc said with a little chuckle and received a kick under the table from his blushing wife.
“No comment.” Preston winked at Cindi and booted up his laptop. “Okay, down to business. I’ll begin with the theft of the funds.” A PowerPoint presentation appeared on one of the wall screens. “Mildred Cummings was very clever and I really had to dig. It has gone on longer than one event. She used the accounts as her own bank, withdrawing and returning funds within the same year. Getting sick threw a monkey wrench into the works.”
His love was sure to get upset by his next statement, so he addressed Lincoln and Jessie directly. “If anyone other than me had investigated the records, Lieutenant Adams would be escorting Cindi out of the building in handcuffs for embezzlement. The records show that Cindi Pearl Sullivan withdrew the money and forged the signature of the president of the board of directors.”
“What! The tiredness in Cindi’s body was consumed by outrage. “I did no such thing! That old coot with the bride of Frankenstein hair is an embezzling bitch! When we met her at the café yesterday, she was positive all of the accounts would balance.”
“Bride of Frankenstein?” Jessie interrupted, not expecting an answer.
“Everything is in perfect order. Your name is on the account to sign for and administer payment of expenses,” Preston explained. “You aren’t the first one she’s used as a scapegoat. I found other names that were eliminated after she returned various amounts of money. She didn’t expect us to go way back and discover her money game. Mildred actually picked up where her deceased husband left off.”
“What is she spending the money on?” Jessie asked.
“She had a gambling problem. I did a few deep searches, and it appears she’s gotten it under control.” He patted the back of Cindi’s hand. “Your bride of Frankenstein isn’t a total monster. She’s been taking in foster children over the years, but three chose to stay when they turned eighteen. We met one of them yesterday, Harold Webber. He drives a garbage truck.”
“That’s the first piece to fall into place,” Lincoln said. “After you called the other night, I had our techs review the data from the retail store at the camp. There were only six cash purchases of the little goat.” Lincoln slid several eight-by-ten pictures across the table. “Anyone look familiar?”
“Harold was a busy man,” Cindi said, tapping
the color picture of the garbage man. “I wonder why Mildred never told us she took in foster children.”
“People keep secrets for different reasons.” Preston avoided direct eye contact with Cindi. He was walking a thin line in the secret department.
“Now Reggie’s e-mail makes sense,” Preston said. “I had our guy in New York trace the package. The company has no record of an order being sent to Cindi Pearl Sullivan at this address. Harold purchased the stuffed animal and must have dropped it off at our mailroom himself.”
Jessie looked at her husband. “You should be able to check your own security records.”
“Will do, as soon as we finish our meeting, Lieutenant Taylor-Adams.”
“We know how he got the garbage and when he purchased the stuffed animal. That should be enough for the police to pick him up for questioning,” Cindi said.
“You are right, and the charges might stick. Before we go any further, let me tell you about the other two people who live in Mildred’s house. Ron Tremont and Carole Gibbons. She took them in when they were seven years old. Both are physically challenged and can’t work outside the home. Carole is thirty-three and is wheelchair-bound. She’s an artist, and her dream is to have a showing at a gallery. Ron is also thirty-three and confined to a wheelchair. He is tech-savvy and tests new computer games, but he wants to design his own games. Harold pays a live-in aide to take care of them. Carole and Ron get a small amount from Social Security, but it isn’t enough. Mildred is sixty-two, and her insurance plan didn’t cover all of her medical expenses. Over the years, she’s provided special schooling and professional tutoring so her kids could pursue their interests in art and computers. She couldn’t have done more for them if they were her own natural-born children.”
