He slapped my back and walked back into his store. What could I say? I couldn’t even argue with him. He was being less of a jerk about this whole situation than I thought he might be. And I supposed that could still be determined, especially if he knew what I did to his sister last night. More importantly, what was I going to do? I felt like I was on a tightrope—Grace on one side, Thatcher on the other. Leaning too close in either direction was going to make me fall head first into pits of sand that would suck me in and I had no idea how I would climb out.
I rode to the police station, all the while determined to put Thatcher and Grace out of my mind. The station was small, housed in an old building off the main road of Lone Star. Next to the station was the court house, which towered over the station and surrounding houses. It was a typical small-town court house, symmetrical in design with large stone steps leading to the main entrance. Both the station and the courthouse had matching gray bricks and white trim, coupled with extra-large flower pots situated at both entrances. All of which were in need of a new paint job.
Jackson’s truck was in the small lot and I wasn’t sure if the guy would be able to help or not. Suddenly, it became my mission to fix this for Grace. To get that fucking dog back, no matter what it took.
“Jackson here?” I asked the mousy brunette behind the counter.
“In his office.”
“Perfect.”
I walked down the short hallway to the open door where Jackson sat at his computer.
“Got a minute?”
“Sure. What can I do for you?”
“A friend of mine found a dog. She suspected abuse and neglect. She had it for about six weeks and suddenly the dog’s owner showed up and wanted the dog back.”
“Did she give it back?” Jackson asked.
“Yeah. This is Grace Patterson. Of course she gave him back the dog. She said he confirmed a few things about the dog that proved he very well was the owner.”
“There’s not much that can be done. She gave him back the animal willingly. Afraid there isn’t much to argue with that. May be a different story altogether if she’d held her ground and kept the dog, but I’m afraid with these circumstances there isn’t much I can do.”
“Nothing? You couldn’t arrest the kid for expired tags or something and she could get the dog back?”
Jackson laughed, “Who was it?”
“Will somebody. She said he looked like he belonged at the beach with his surf board. Was camping down here about six weeks ago and-”
“Oh, I think I remember them. There was a small group of kids, maybe five of them. Were down at the river camping and got a complaint. I had to go down there but there wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. Just some kids getting too rowdy.”
“Where were they from?”
“Deer Creek.”
“Hmm. Pisses me off that she gave him back the dog.”
“Most people would have. No one ever wants to get the law involved, even law-abiding citizens.”
“Thanks, man. I told Grace I’d give her an update. She’s not doing too well.”
“I’m sure. Sorry I couldn’t be of more help.”
I shook his hand and left the station feeling like a failure. Damn it, I wished she wouldn’t have given that fucking mutt to the guy.
What was she thinking? That was the problem with someone as good as Grace. She didn’t know enough to behave badly. Was innocent enough to hurt herself.
I swallowed the angst in my gut.
That was what was going to happen with her and I.
Thatcher was right and it was something I knew all along. I was just too damn selfish to give a shit.
She’d become a fresh breath of air. Almost like a second chance for me to enjoy the finer things in life. A taste of champagne instead of the normal beer.
She was everything I craved and yet everything I’ve denied myself.
I pulled into her apartment complex and parked, looking up into those windows of hers, wondering what the hell I was supposed to do.
Pulled to her by some magnetic force, I waited in the hallway for her to answer the door. She opened it wide, her cheeks flushed, her hair no longer straight, but curly. Her lips were bright red like she’d been sucking on them, the pressure turning them a fine shade of crimson from their standard pink.
She’d changed within the time I seen her at Thatcher’s, now wearing a sun dress that, to my surprise, erased any ideas of Fort Knox completely out of my head. Her skin was creamy and pink and her tits threatened to spill out of her dress.
Her carefully tweezed eyebrow rose, “Are you here to comfort me? Make me forget about losing Echo?”
She looked heartbroken and sexy, and I released a rabid growl as I attacked her, any thoughts of what Thatcher wanted me to do flew out the window.
She tasted sweet and addictive and I ate her up in a hurry. Hot. Wet. Sexy as far as the world could see. Her arms went around my neck as I kicked her door shut and pushed her inside her apartment.
Her hands were all over me, going to my button-fly and tearing it open. My cock sprang into her greedy hands and she wasted no time stroking it. In the next second something crashed to the ground as I backed her against the wall, neither one of us willing to take our mouth or our hands off each other.
I pulled the stretchy fabric of her dress down underneath her tits and unhooked her bra, always ready to catch her tits as they sang freedom. My thumbs caressed the tight pebbles as she continued stroking me. We needed each other. We were both greedy, needy, unwilling to lessen our strides as we took what we wanted from each other.
I hiked her dress up over her hips and she let go of my dick long enough to help me take her panties off. My fingers immediately went to her wetness, rubbing her and coaxing her tightness open enough that I would slide in. She let out these little whimpers between kissing me and biting me and I wondered if Thatcher was right: that she was falling in love with me.
“Stick it inside me, Maverick. Hurry,” she begged. She helped me with the condom I was glad I had in my wallet and I eased her up against the wall, wedging myself in between her legs as she guided me inside of her.
Her muscles contracted around me, sucking me in her depths, releasing enough to gain friction only to contract around me all over again. Our chests rose and fell in beat to one another as I pounded into her, shaking the pictures on the wall with each thrust. Our tongues danced against each other’s skin, our teeth nipped at one another like baby vampires and I couldn’t tell where her whimpers ended and my grunts began.
I didn’t know what would happen between us next week, but right now, this slice of sunshine was mine.
She started pushing against me with more tenacity and I could feel her tighten around me as she rubbed against me, her clit so hard it was going to burst. Her spasms milked my cock and it was only a matter of seconds that her tight pussy convulsed around me bringing me into orbit with her.
“Grace,” my voice sounded the way sandpaper felt.
“Maverick,” she panted in that breathy voice of hers.
We both laughed as I took great care to carry her into the bathroom. I sat her on the edge of the counter and tossed the condom.
“Let’s get cleaned up.”
“Did you find anything out about my dog?”
“No. Nothing can be done. I’m sorry.”
“Maverick,” she hiccupped and the immediate flood of tears in her eyes made me feel like an even bigger failure than what I’d felt before.
“I’m sorry, Gracie,” I whispered again as I helped her out of her dress.
“I know. I know she wasn’t mine, but Maverick, she felt like mine. It’d been six weeks. Even you were beginning to like her.”
“Yeah, I was.”
I watched her as she unclasped her necklace from her slender neck. She took my breath away. I couldn’t fathom how little she thought of her chest. How she allowed people’s negativity to get into her brain and stay there. I understood her
discomfort of it all, but the sideways looks, the questions, God, she was gorgeous. Lone Star’s one and only exotic supermodel. Kate Uptown had nothing on her.
“I made an appointment.”
“When is it?”
“Day after tomorrow. They said they go over the procedure. Get an idea of what exactly it is I’m wanting to do. Then we go from there.”
“Just to reiterate, you’re fucking beautiful. Forget all those assholes who gave you shit about them.”
Her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes, “You’ve done a great job at making me feel like that lately.”
“It’s the truth, Gracie. Don’t do this for anyone else but yourself. The back aches and the bras fitting, whatever. Not because some asshole stares too long, not because people question where you got them. Forget those people. This has to be for yourself. You hearin’ me?”
“I’m hearin’ you. I know what I want to do. This is about me. Not anyone else. Although the way you cherish them makes me want to leave them alone,” she giggled.
“I’ll be on my knees cherishing them either way,” I promised.
“Speaking of knees…”
That got my attention, “What?”
“While we’re in the shower, maybe I could…experiment?”
“Like giving me head?” I asked, my dick already liking the sound of her idea.
“It’s never been something I’ve wanted to do.”
“What’s changing your mind?”
She glanced down at me, her eyes set with hunger. “The way it feels in my hands. The way it makes me feel.” She blushed and went on, “I couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like, you know, in my mouth.”
I groaned. The desire to simply shove it into her mouth and deep down her throat like I would any woman washed over me.
Maybe she wasn’t ready for that.
Yet.
“Well what the hell are we waiting for? Let’s get in.”
I turned the water on quickly like an eager teen. I shed my shirt and the rest of my clothing that hadn’t come off from the hallway. I stepped into the tub and held my hand out for her. Her eyes gleamed with fascination, desire and…love?
That word continued to pop into my mind at inconvenient moments thanks to Thatcher. It was impossible. We’d been hanging out off and on for almost two months. We’d only been playing with each other a week or so. She couldn't be in love with me in that amount of time. No one could fall in love with anyone that quickly.
When she gripped my dick, I pushed out all thoughts of love aside. It wasn't the case anyway so it didn't matter.
“Should I practice first?” she asked.
I arched my head back beneath the spray, “Practice how?”
“Like I’ll suck on your tongue. Then I can move on to bigger and better things.”
I laughed and nudged her into the warm spray of water. “Okay, suck.” I stuck my tongue out jokingly and tried to keep a serious face as she moved in and wrapped her mouth around my tongue. She latched onto it like a pacifier and began sucking. Shit, it felt good.
Really good.
Her hands were on my chest and my dick bobbed against her body, ready for action. I gripped her slippery hips, willing myself not to take over. Let her practice. She pulled back, apparently satisfied enough with the motion and what to expect as she took my spot and I blocked most of the water spewing out as the warmth hit my back.
My hand went to my dick as I watched her amble onto her knees. This couldn't be any fucking better than now. Her eyes were mischievous as she glanced up at me. Water pelted around my body, drops flying hazardously over the plastic tub and onto her face and chest. Droplets slid down her tits and that was the last coherent thought I had as her mouth touched the tip of my dick.
She nibbled at first, just sort of testing the waters. Her tongue came out and licked around it as I moved one of her hands from my thigh and helped her take the place of my hand around my shaft with her hand.
“Stroke it,” I told her. “Stroke it while you suck it.”
It took her a few tries before she got in rhythm with the sucking and stroking and I imagined doing this for the first time was about as uncoordinated as trying to pat your head and rub your tummy.
She took me in, her mouth relaxing around me as she made sucking sounds going back and forth. There was nothing better than this view. Absolutely nothing. Her perfect blonde hair slicked wet against her back, her eyes on my body as she worked to deliver ecstasy and her curvaceous hips and creamy white skin that went on for miles.
My dick slipped out of her mouth in a loud pop and her and I laughed as she gripped the shaft and sucked it back into her mouth. A few times her teeth grazed the skin and I couldn’t be more proud of her for trying so hard. My legs began to shake. Water droplets kept sliding along her face, my dick and all over her chest. I could feel come drawing up my shaft, my balls tightening and my eyelids shut.
“I'm gonna come, Princess.”
Her mouth loosened as she backed away and I watched as I emptied myself out way beyond my control. On her chin, her tits and along the tub bottom and holy fucking shit, nothing had ever looked and felt so good in my entire life.
“How’d I do?” she smiled.
“That’s it. Bottom line is you shouldn't have given that motherfucker the dog.” I sat on one of Grace’s kitchen stools as she baked some kind of chocolate thing with raspberries. Smelled good, whatever it was.
“I didn't know what to do. Honestly. The entire time I was just praying that you’d miraculously show up on your motorcycle and scare the guy away.”
“You could have done that. Just gotta bare your teeth, baby.”
“Well, now what? I want her back.”
“Can I ask you something? Is it really feasible to own a pet when your apartment doesn't even allow them?”
She huffed and placed her hands on her hips. “I’d have to move. I want her back, Maverick. It hurts my heart not to have her. I fell in love with her.”
The way she said that last bit, as if it were pointed at me – surely just my imagination. But something passed between us. Floated around in the air like little dust mites. I stood up from my stool, almost knocking it over in the process. Once I steadied it, I turned to her and faked a smile.
“I’ll try to come up with something. I gotta run.”
My nerves jangled as I all but ran out of there and hopped on my bike. What the fuck was that all about? Was that her way of implying she was not only in love with that dog but me, too? I couldn’t even deny for a second that I was caught in her clutches. That I, too, was thinking of a dog, Echo, where the two of them would live and whether she thought my house was good enough for the two of them.
The wind smacked my face as I headed out of Lone Star and it felt good. Riding reminded me of who I was and where I came from. That I was a lone rider, traveling through life, steering it far away from people like Grace. She reminded me of all that I’d lost. Reminded me of the good times I had with Candi.
Candi was a good girl. Always volunteering and taking care of everyone around her. Often I wondered what she ever saw in me. There were a couple times we’d fought about me being a ‘project’ for her. Someone she could fix and try to mold into someone else. It wasn’t true and deep down I knew it. But I was too much of an asshole at times to drop the topic.
Once, we were at her uncle’s house at a barbeque and there were a lot of single men there, as was her uncle. Guys from his work – he was a stock broker – they were always wearing their polo shirts and nice shorts and boat shoes. They looked like they were ready for some croquet. Or golf. To sit out in the cigar bar and sip their hundred-dollar per glass scotch and smoke their Cubans.
One of the guys hit on her—Barry—his name stuck so well in my mind even now, because who the fuck was ever named Barry? A schmuck that’s who. He kept hitting on her like I was nothing but her chauffer. Finally, when she sensed I was about to punch the guy’s lights out, she’d put
him off for good. She told him she wasn’t into ‘perfect’ men but was madly in love with me. My ‘imperfect’ character and personality was the spiciness to her bland personality. Which I’d never thought of her being bland. Smart and a do-gooder, yes. But bland, never.
When she explained that to Barry, it clicked. It all made sense that she wasn’t into me because she wanted to try and change me. She wanted me for me. It was she who thought of herself as needing changed.
The World was full of mysteries.
I pulled into the prison parking lot where my dad was incarcerated and after checking myself in with the visitor counter, I was ushered into a stall of rooms where I waited for him to come out. It’d been two years since I’d seen him last and I was shocked when he came out.
He wasn’t as large and overbearing as I remembered. He wasn’t as tall as he used to be. He was small, skinny and I hated to see him so gangly-looking.
“Maverick,” my name caught in his throat as he broke down in tears.
“Dad. It’s fine. I’m here.” I didn’t know what to do. Unable to find any words to comfort him, I sat silent. I feared my suspicion was right—that he was dying—and that was why he requested to see Lori.
“It’s not fine. Nothing about my lifestyle was ever fine. Were you able to bring Reba?” he glanced behind me.
“No, Dad. Reba—Lori, actually—made it clear that she wants nothing to do with you. Sorry, but she isn’t coming.”
“I didn’t think she would. She was never around when we needed her, God help her.”
Feeling oddly protective, I corrected him. “She’s changed a lot. She runs an addiction center now. She told me to tell you that she wants nothing to do with you. Period.” I blew out a deep breath, “What’s going on? Are you sick?”
“I’m not sick. Nothing like that. I’ve done a lot of reading in here, going to a lot of church. I need to atone for my sins. The first step for me to do that is by seeking forgiveness for my penitence. You and Reba deserve that from me. God says that forgiveness comes in all forms imaginable and he forgives us all. I can only hope that I can be forgiven by the people whose lives I screwed up.”
Wicked: A Small Town Romance (Love in Lone Star Book 3) Page 17
