Menace (Moonshine Task Force Book 5)

by Laramie Briscoe

  “I don’t normally do this,” I pant as his rough palm travels up my stomach, until it encounters the lace of my bra.

  Removing his lips from my neck nibbling slightly with his teeth, he whispers in my ear. “Can I?”

  It takes me much longer than I care to admit, to figure out he’s asking for permission to move the lace down. What a fucking gentleman. “Oh, please.” I tilt my head back giving him complete control over where he wants to put those lips of his. Exposing my neck, and any other part he wishes to gorge on.

  “God I wish I was shorter,” he moans as he moves one of his forearms under my thigh, lifting it to give him more room to work.

  “No, fuck no, don’t be shorter. Don’t be smaller, don’t be anything…” Oh Jesus, he’s grinding into me now. I breathe out a short pant, grasp his shoulders with my nails, and wish we had a bed to do this in. “Don’t be anything other than what you are.” I wrap that leg around his waist, digging my heel into his ass, needing the friction of our bodies rubbing together.

  He abandons my neck, moving down to where my hard nipple is pressing against the fabric of my shirt. I want to lift it, expose my entire body to his eyes, look down and see his lips wrapped around my flesh. But he stops my hands as I go to lift my shirt.

  “Don’t wanna get arrested for indecent exposure,” he growls as he takes the turgid tip through the material, swirling his tongue around it.

  The move is one of the most erotic ever done to me. I can feel the motion, but not the wetness of his saliva for a few moments as it soaks through the cotton. “Oh yes!” I grasp his hair in my fingers, thrusting up into his mouth, shivering when I feel the scrape of his teeth.

  There’s flurry of activity where in the space of a few minutes, one of my shoes is kicked off, one pant leg, one side of my panties is pushed down to allow me a little room to move, and his jeans are pushed down below his hips. When I feel the velvet hardness of his cock against my thigh, I reach down, circling my fingers around the girth. He’s hot and hard, the skin stretched tightly along the crest of his head. Both of us moan loudly. Blindly, he’s reaching into his back pocket. Hearing the unmistakable crinkle of a condom wrapper, I use my palm to jack the length.

  “Don’t go too fast.” His voice is guttural, like he’s swallowed gravel or smoked a pack of cigarettes.

  “No such thing as too fast.” I open my eyes, watching him, watching me as I continue pumping his erection.

  “Yeah there is, sweetness. It’ll be when I spill all over that smooth thigh of yours, because this is the hottest thing I’ve seen in a really long time.”

  I wonder how long it’s been for him. Does he go straight home after work, and be a good dad to his son? Does he make do with showers and porn? I want him to make do with me.

  My eyes widen as he licks the palm of his hand and slaps it against my pussy. My body jumps, vibrates, as I feel the shock all the way through my system and into my core. “I’m sufficiently wet,” I assure him, needing him to hurry this up, needing him to get rid of the ache.

  “So you are.” He takes his index and middle fingers, pushing them in, stretching me. I pull them into my channel, no problem, all I want is more. More of anything and everything he wants to give me.

  When I feel a trail of precum on my thigh, I lift my eyes to his. “Unless you want to lose it before you get it in me, now might be the perfect time.”

  His brown eyes flair with desire as he levers himself off of me, his forearm flexes as he pushes the condom down on his hard length. When he thrusts home, a cry erupts from the back of my throat. It’s been so long since I felt the push of a man inside me, so long since I felt desirable, and an even longer time since I wasn’t going through the motions.

  As we push and pull against each other, as my nails dig into his forearms, as his sweat drips off his face onto me, I’m aware that what we’re sharing isn’t something people share every day. There’s something hanging in the air, something I’m not ready to put a label to, but it’s not just a one-night stand. I know in the end, that’s what will scare me.

  “Karina, you grip me so good.” He digs his fingers into the globes of my ass, pulling me tighter against him, adding a grind when he pushes all the way in. He rubs against my clit, and my eyes roll back in my head as I let myself experience this. I don’t question it, don’t let my mind take me away from it. I feel it.

  “Fuck me, Mason, just fuck me.”

  And as I give myself over to him, I let it wash over me. I let the orgasm take me like the tide at the beach. It comes crashing in, before it leaves a peaceful wreck in its wake.

  It’s a beautiful mess as we come and he groans into my neck, I wonder how I’m going to let my walls down, how I’m going to recover from opening myself up so wide to this man.

  This man, who I just met, who has just given me the most body-depleting orgasm of my life. This man who obviously has a small child, and a life I know nothing about. My feverish skin feels clammy as I realize the repercussions of what we’ve done.

  Quickly, I make my excuses, sliding from the back of the Jeep, clothes barely fastened, looking every bit like I just got fucked. He hurries to catch up with me, stuffing himself back into his pants and getting buttoned right as we reach my car.

  I don’t even remember what I say to him, but what doesn’t leave me is the sad look on his face in the rearview mirror as I drive away. I’m sad too, but I’m totally not ready for the force of nature that is Mason – whatever his last name is – because we never shared that.

  One thing, however, is for sure. I won’t be forgetting Mason ever, or this night for at least a few weeks. The tingle in my thighs, the bruises on my neck, and the soreness in my core will be reminders of the onetime Karina Holland fucked some guy off a dating app in a parking lot.

  A grin plays at my lips. Best mistake of my life.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Karina

  “I love your makeup today, Ms. H!” Jess, one of the senior cheerleaders compliments me as she runs into class, right before the bell rings, indicating hallways are supposed to be clear.

  Little does this girl know my makeup looks different because I’m trying to hide the damage Mason did to my neck on Friday night. Three days later, and nothing is fading. If anything, I had to mix different colors of concealer as it’s gotten darker. But that’s not something you can talk about in a high school classroom. Instead, I grin. “Thank you, Jess! I’m always looking to try new stuff, you know? Trying to keep up with you gorgeous ladies.”

  “Whatever, you don’t even need it.”

  I wish I had the blind confidence of this girl. Granted, I have it now, but it took me a long while to get it after my engagement fell apart, but I’ve never had as much as she does. “How’s everybody doing today?” I lean against my desk. One more class to go after this one, and then we’re out of here. These kids, though, they’re sometimes the hardest ones to control.

  “It’s Monday, and I’ve got a case of them.” One of the football players in the front row sighs heavily, putting his chin on his hand. “Worked all weekend, and now here I am.”

  Sometimes I feel bad for these kids, and then I remember we’re raising our future leaders, they’re learning values, and this is an economics class. It’s good for him to talk about work.

  “I get you, I worked all through college. And having said that, you’ve brought up a good point, Johnathan.” I turn around to the whiteboard in the room, and show them what I’ve been working on. “Because I worked through college and was able to pay for some of my classes, as well as room and board, this total–,” I point to a number figure I’d circled during the first class of the day, “–is what I paid back for my college education.”

  If there’s one thing I believe in, it’s transparency. These kids have got to know where their money is going. “That was the principal, add on interest, and this one is the total I paid.” I point to another figure. “However, if I hadn’t paid down almost fifteen hundred dollars a
semester–,” I point to another one, “–this is how much I would have paid. Do you get what I’m saying?”

  The numbers are vastly different, and this group of kids ready to take on the world is understanding these principles; I can see it clicking in their faces.

  “You sayin’ I need to forget college and go on down to the gulf to work on an oil rig?” a guy in the back blurts out.

  The group laughs, and I can’t help but chuckle too. He does have a point; education this day and age is expensive, and everyone has to weigh the benefits. “I’m saying this is a choice that shouldn’t be taken lightly. You need to be fully informed before you make that decision, and that’s what I’m here to help you do.”

  As I’m about to continue through the lesson plan I have for today, an announcement comes over the intercom. “Faculty and students, be advised we are to execute lockdown and shelter-in-place protocol. This is a precaution; there is no threat to your person. Execute lockdown procedures immediately.”

  My heart is in my throat as I hear the voice of our school secretary over the intercom. As I’ve been trained to do, I go to my classroom door, lock it, and close the blinds covering the pane of glass that allows us to see who’s coming in when it’s closed. I’m in an interior room, so there are no windows for me to close, meaning there’s no way of knowing what in the world is going on. Feigning a positivity I don’t feel, I speak loudly so that I can be heard over the muttering of the kids.

  “As she said, there is no threat, but obviously we won’t be getting much done today. Why don’t you all talk amongst yourselves and I’ll get some work done.”

  Faster than I should, I move to my laptop on my desk. Under the guise of doing lesson plans, I check my school email account.

  Teachers and Staff,

  During a routine check of the grounds, one of our security guards located what he believes to be three large boxes containing moonshine in one of the supply closets. Laurel Springs MTF and local law enforcement has been called in to investigate. Due to the heartbreaking situation that happened last year, we’d like to keep this as quiet as we can. Please do not allow students to speculate.

  You’ll hear officers and possible K-9s running up and down the hallways as they also execute a locker search.

  We hope to be able to release you soon, where we will expedite getting everyone home.

  Principal Taggert

  The death of a senior had happened during my first year in Laurel Springs, and it had torn this small community apart. Now that I’m more ingrained into this community and entering my second year, tears spring to my eyes as I think about any of these kids hurt because of a stupid decision made to drink a bad batch of moonshine. I feel anger at whoever is bringing this into our school, who’s selling it cheap enough that these kids don’t want to go down to the local liquor store and beg someone to buy them beer. But most of all, I fear for them, because I’m scared to death they’re going to lose someone else, and there’s nothing we can do about it.

  Menace

  I hate this. Hate being at this school, searching for moonshine while my son is locked in one of the classrooms. I loathe that we haven’t been able to find the person responsible, and failure is weighing on me. We’ve been working our asses off following leads, but there just aren’t many, and what we have isn’t solid. It makes me feel like not only a failure as a parent, but also as an officer of the law, especially as a member of the specialized Moonshine Task Force.

  Havoc, the commander of the task force, pulls me aside. “You go with the K-9 Officer as he searches lockers. Since your son is a student here, and you already have a relationship with educators, and the principal, I feel like they would respect and listen to you more than me. Especially if y’all find something in a locker, and the student needs to be confronted.

  Everything he says is understandable, but every part of my body is wanting to go to the classroom Caleb is in, and make sure he’s okay. But this is part of my job, part of what I signed on for, and how I make my living. Until we get the scene cleared and make sure it’s safe for everyone, there will be no checking on my son. “Got it, we’ll be in touch.”

  The K-9 Officer out of the next county over and I make our way down the hallways. I can never remember his name; all I can recall is the dog’s name Jinx. Typically the officer answers to it, too.

  “Your son goes here, doesn’t he?” he asks as we wait for an indication of a hit from the dog.

  “Yeah, I bet he’s freaking the fuck out in whatever classroom he’s in, he knows exactly what this shit means.”

  “Do you want to go reassure him it’s okay? We can do that corridor next,” he offers.

  “No, I’m actually not sure what room he’s in, and if he’s scared, the rest of them have to be too. As soon was get the sweep done, I’ll track him down and make sure he’s good.”

  Thirty minutes later, ten bottles of moonshine, three baggies of weed, and a bag of what looks like meth rocks have been confiscated to go along with the initial finding. And now, the dog is pawing and scratching at a classroom door, begging to get in.

  “Jinx, halt!” The dog goes down on his belly. He’s wearing a muzzle, so there’s no way he can accidentally bite someone, but he wants in the door bad. He’s whining, which I’ve never heard him do in the many times we’ve worked with this department.

  “That’s an occupied classroom,” I whisper to him. “What the fuck is in there?”

  “No idea, but Jinx wants it bad. Get Havoc and see what he wants us to do. I’d say let’s take the kids out, but what if it’s something one of them carried through the door and it left a trace?”

  Within minutes, Havoc is standing with us in front of the door. The principal is there too as we all discuss on what the proper protocol should be.

  “Goddamn it.” Havoc runs a palm over his buzz cut. “None of this shit is easy. We’re damned if we do, damned if we don’t. But if Jinx is picking up something in there, we’ve got to investigate it, Taggert.”

  “I do agree with you.” The principal nods. “However, I ask that you allow me to be present if you do have to take a student.”

  “We can do that. Can you instruct them to open the door?”

  My nerves are on edge as I barely listen to what’s going on before the door opens and we’re permitted inside the classroom. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Caleb. More than anything, I want to stop what I’m doing, go over and tell him it’s okay, but I can’t. I have a job to do, and a lot of people counting on us to do the job well. As Jinx moves up and down between the students, he gets nothing. However, this is a science room and there are a ton of cabinets. When he hits on one, Taggert asks the teacher, a Mr. Cartwright, to unlock it and let us look inside.

  When he does, Jinx goes insane and I wonder what in the fuck could be in a science teacher’s cabinet. For more than five minutes, they pull out bottle after bottle, but nothing illegal is found.

  “Probably just the mixture of smells,” Havoc apologizes to Mr. Cartwright and Principal Taggert. As I watch the teacher, I’m not so sure, but that’s just a sense I’m getting. Since there’s no proof to the contrary, we leave the room, but not before I wave at Caleb and give him a reassuring nod.

  Now it’s time to take care of what we did find. I have a feeling cleaning up this particular scene and dealing with parents is going to make for a very long afternoon.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Karina

  M: The weekend was busy, and yesterday was a crap day at work, but I wanted to let you know I had a great night with you! Maybe we can do it again! Ya know, get each other’s last names this time?

  Glancing down at the phone in my hand, I read the text message again, calling myself a fool millions of times over. This marked the fourth day since I had my date with Mason, and the second day he’d texted me. It would also mark the second day I’d ignore him.

  Tilting my head back, I inspect my neck in the bathroom mirror. I won’t have to be caking on the con
cealer and foundation for much longer. The love bites are finally starting to fade, but I still have bruises on my thighs and in between them I can still feel a twinge when I move a certain way. Mason definitely left an impression on me unlike anyone else has before. A part of me already wants to see him again, to make sure I never have to know what life is like without these love bites, without this soreness again. But that’s only one part. The other part? Not so sure. Totally unsure if I want to open myself up to potential heartbreak again. Do I want to put myself out there, and trust someone, only to have that trust be thrown back in my face? Confidence? I got it. Trust? Not there yet.

  Picking my toothbrush up from the bathroom sink, I go through the motions of my morning routine. Like every other day, I brush my teeth while I’m waiting for my moisturizer to dry, and just like every day since I had the Jeep escapade, my thoughts drift back to Mason. There’s something about him, about the way he’d plunged into me, the way he hadn’t treated me like I was going to break. He’d manhandled me, dented my flesh, thrusted like he couldn’t get deep enough. God, I’d loved it all. While my body is begging to meet Mason for another hot night in the back of his Jeep, there’s something holding me back.

  “Just call it like it is, Karina. You’re scared,” I taunt my reflection in the mirror. I try not to see how bright my eyes are, how alive I look. I haven’t looked this way in a long time, and the brightness has been shining since my date. I’ve seen a spark inside me that I haven’t had in years – maybe ever – in my adult life.

  The passion I felt with Mason, I’ve never felt before. Not with the man I was supposed to have married, not with my high school boyfriend, not with anyone. And that’s what scares me. Shouldn’t I have felt the searing desire for the man I was going to marry? It’s got me questioning everything I thought I knew about my wants and desires. It’s also got me very confused, which is why I completely ignore the next two messages he sends me. When all I really want to do is answer them and plan out our next date.