Accidental Hero_A Marriage Mistake Romance

by Nicole Snow

  She heads back out the door and I go upstairs to change. A few minutes later, we're all in the pool.

  I’ve always appreciated my daughter, but do even more right now. There’s nothing like a child to put life back in perspective. And watching Blue glide through the water in her skimpy pink and blue bikini has me determined to hire the best fucking lawyer in Arizona if necessary to prove I had nothing to do with Preston’s death.

  Which will screw up my chances of paying the Pearls back for Davey’s death. But not forever.

  It’ll still happen. Even if it takes a bit longer than I’d planned.

  After our taco dinner, Blue and Nat do some homework in the living room while I watch a movie. It’s a new one, five star review, but it doesn’t hold my attention.

  Blue's captured too much already. She’s changed into a pair of shorts and a T-shirt after swimming, but I keep seeing her in that bikini. Actually, I keep thinking about taking that little swimsuit off her.

  Something about the stress makes my dick hard. Relentless.

  Nat kisses me goodnight and heads upstairs. I switch the channel to the local news. Blue gets glued to the TV and I know she’s waiting to hear the same thing I am.

  That a body was found in the desert.

  Nothing's reported. That doesn’t totally surprise me. They’ll have to notify family before releasing information. Sometimes, the media will sit on investigations for a little while by police request, too.

  Done worrying about the dead prick, Preston, I click off the TV and set the remote on the table. “Be right back.”

  Blue nods and piles up the scraps of construction paper left over from all the shapes she’d cut out for her day class. I check on Nat first, who's sound asleep, and then use the bathroom.

  I find Blue in the kitchen, filling the coffee pot for morning. “I have an idea,” I say, grasping her hips and pulling her back against me.

  “You always have that idea.” She smiles, wriggling her ass against my cock.

  “Nah, babe, this one’s even better,” I whisper in her ear. “You’ll like it. Trust me.”

  She spins around and loops her arms around my neck. “I'll try.”

  Her kiss comes fast, barely happens before she asks, “Is Natalie sleeping?”

  “Yeah.” I take her hand, grabbing the towels I’d just set on the counter. “And we're going swimming.”

  “Just hung up my suit.”

  “You won’t need one,” I growl, opening the sliding door.

  “Skinny dipping?” Her eyes go big and a familiar blush heats her cheeks.

  I nod seriously. Before stepping out, I turn off the outdoor lights. They all have motion detectors that I don’t want tripped.

  “Did you read my mind earlier?” Her eyes have more stars in them than the sky.

  Man, I love how honest she is. How ready and willing, how eager.

  She’s like a fantasy come true. I kiss her. “Maybe.”

  “Maybe?”

  I drop the towel and pull my shirt over my head. “Can't say who was first. Maybe you're the mind reader digging into mine. Same wavelength, babe.”

  She follows my lead, undressing, and then unhooks her bra, freeing those glorious tits. I lick my lips, imagining sucking on their dark circles. Feeling those nipples turning into hard little nubs beneath my hungry tongue.

  A moment later, she disappears with a giggle. The splash is quiet, subdued. I spin toward the pool, knowing she just dove in like a dolphin. She’s so graceful and sleek there’s barely a ripple in the water.

  I get rid of my shorts and follow. The cool, refreshing water takes me light years away from the evil fuckery hanging over our heads.

  I’ve been swimming since I was old enough to walk, and consider myself good at it, but she could swim circles around me. And does. I feel the movement in the water, but she stays just out of my reach.

  She giggles softly each time her head pops out of the water and gives me a catch-me-if-you-can look. The one thing I'm very, very good at, is holding my breath.

  I go beneath the water, and rather than swim towards her, sink to the bottom, knowing she’ll come to investigate.

  My lungs are rigid by the time I snag her waist and shove off the pool's floor. We break the surface at the same time.

  “Ass!” she says, slapping my chest. “You scared me.”

  The water's chest deep. I take advantage of that and nibble the tip of her nipple. The water laps against my chin as I tell her, “Only way I could catch you, Blue. You swim like a fish.”

  Her fingers wrap around the base of my cock and she gives it a long, perfect stroke. “Well, maybe you weren’t dangling the right bait.”

  “There’s no dangling here, darlin'.” I give her nipple another bite. “I’m hard as a rock.”

  “I feel that,” she says.

  The way she strokes me feels like fucking Heaven. Better than any hand job in the universe.

  I stifle a groan as she increases the rhythm. It’s damn near brutal the way she turns me on, instantly brings me to the brink, the very edge where I can’t last long.

  She knows it, too. And loves it. Her eyes shine sheer excitement.

  I reach between her legs, find her clit, and pinch it while working another finger inside her. The vibration of her breath, a pleasure gasp, steals my ability to breathe.

  I love this shit.

  Pleasuring her, owning her, with all the time in the world.

  “We’re two of a kind,” I whisper against her lips.

  “Yeah.” Her tongue delves into my mouth.

  I catch it with mine and kiss till we both have to throw our heads back and gulp in air.

  “Condom?” she whimpers.

  I’m still gasping, too, and the pressure building at my spine is almost to maximum. “With the towels,” I growl.

  Perfect timing. I’m so fucking close to coming from her hand, I can barely stand it. I shove another finger inside her and tease her clit with my thumb. “This what's got you bothered? My hard cock in your tight wet pussy?”

  She gasps as the walls of her cunt spasm against my fingers. “I – Oh!” She groans, pressing down against my hand.

  “Go for it, baby,” I whisper, too close to stop.

  I find her clit, shift my fingers deeper, finger-fuck her to completion. She presses her mouth against my chest, muffling her cry.

  Warmth oozes around my fingers. Despite the fact she’s in the middle of an O, she never stops pumping my cock in her hand. Not once. Her fulfillment rips through me. My cock jolts.

  Wave after wave of pleasure rocks through me as she keeps stroking, stretching my climax for what damn well might be forever. I pulse between her fingers, out of my mind and then some.

  It's some kind of black magic when a woman can drive me batshit off a hand job.

  When we're both spent and slumped against each other, she giggles softly. I wrap my arms around her, utterly amazed. Never before have I been brought to the depth of an orgasm. Not before her.

  I’ve never been so ready for an encore fuck either.

  Can’t get enough of this woman. Not tonight. Not ever.

  “Want that condom now?”

  She laughs shyly again, a sound I love. Lifting her head, she looks up at me. Eyes shimmering in the moonlight. “Let’s take it inside the house. Upstairs. Somewhere we won’t have to move after.”

  I chuckle, knowing exactly what she means. A few minutes ago I wouldn’t have been able to walk if my life depended on it.

  The encore's worth the wait. I haul her upstairs and tip-toe past Nat's room, holding her in my arms, bringing us into the bedroom.

  She goes under me on the bed, ass up. I push deep inside her, plant my arms against her shoulders, binding her hair in one fist. I give it to her hard.

  And when I say hard, I mean fuck-quake hard.

  My dick drives fast and deep. Hits the spot that makes her little body seize. She whimpers sweetly under me, her O coming fast. Her pussy cle
nches me like silk madness, wringing come up from my balls, but damn if there isn't something else.

  A warmth like never before. All over.

  Her clit throbs against my balls as I fuck us both over. I empty myself inside her groaning, drowning Blue's screams in my hand. They rush out between her teeth against my palm. Her eyes roll, practically shaking the rest of her, and I give it back just as fierce.

  I'm coming so hard it's barely human. And I think she just squirted for the first time.

  Running my hand over the wet spot on the sheets underneath her tells me it's true. I suppress a wicked smile, proud of another first, knowing there's many, many more to come before I've fully branded my flesh on hers.

  I crawl back into the bed after getting up to toss the condom. She welcomes me with a gentle smile and soft sigh as her head settles on my chest. “Brent, what was that?”

  “That was you at your finest, babe. And me there, joining you, thanking my lucky stars. Fucking this good used to be rare. Before you.” I take her lips in mine again.

  When I pull away, her smile fades. “I don't just mean the sex, Romeo.”

  I give her a serious look.

  “He might be your friend,” she says quietly. “But I don’t like him.”

  I run a hand down the length of her back, loving the silky feel of her skin against my palm. “Who?”

  “Captain Dawson.” She sighs. “I know it’s probably just because he gave me that speeding ticket. The only one I’ve ever had.”

  I kiss the top of her head, but can’t stop a frown from forming. “Dawson gave you the ticket you got leaving here that day?”

  “Yes.”

  “Really?” Venom drifts through my veins.

  She lifts her head. “Yes, really. I won’t forget him.” Sitting up, her brows knit together. “You don’t believe me?”

  “Not that.” I shake my head. “I believe you, Blue. It’s just that he works for the sheriff's department. County level. This is city limits. He can issue citations, but this area's out of his jurisdiction for that sort of thing.”

  “Not that night. It was him.” She lays back down and runs her nails softly across on my chest. “You’ve known him a long time.”

  “Not that long,” I say.

  “But he knew your brother, too.”

  “Davey?”

  She nods.

  Stupid question. I only have one brother. Had one.

  But Dawson hadn’t started working for the force in this area until after he’d died. “He never mentioned that to me. Knowing him.”

  She sits up again. “What? Weird.”

  I nod. “You act like you're not that surprised?”

  “I am. I mean, he’s asked me about Davey each time he’s been here. When he brought out the OFP, and then today.” She crosses her arms. “Which, by the way, he never even filed.”

  What the fuck?

  Confused why Dawson would ever ask her about Davey, I shake my head to catch what she’s talking about. “Filed what?”

  “The OFP. Restraining order. I asked him what I should do when I get the signed copy back from the judge. He said not to worry about it, that he hadn’t had time to file it yet.”

  “That was almost two weeks ago,” I say.

  “I know. I thought that’s why he was here at first. To deliver my copy. From what I read, it usually only takes like forty eight hours or so.”

  My mind runs a hundred miles an hour in very dark directions, but I can’t let her know it.

  It's like we're staring down some dark, fucked up formula designed to produce nothing but bad answers.

  I just pull her back down and run my fingers through her hair as her head settles on my chest.

  This whole situation's too fucking odd. Too wrong. That scares me in a way I haven’t ever felt before. Maybe because I have more to lose than ever before.

  After I’m sure she’s asleep, I ease off the bed and slip on my shorts. Down in my office, I dial a number I haven’t called in years.

  When the gruff voice on the other end answers, I say, “It’s Eden. Monk. We need to talk.”

  13

  Mixed Up (Izzy)

  I can’t stay focused. Partly because I expect Mr. Jacobs to call me into his office any second. I’ll be fired this time for sure. Once he hears about Preston.

  Weirdly, being fired doesn’t have the same reaction as before. This job – the entire aspect of a job meaning more than the people in my life – no longer holds a choke-chain over my life.

  Sure, I want to keep it. But I also want more.

  I can’t pinpoint when that became apparent, but it has.

  That’s only part of why I can't focus. Brent was acting odd this morning.

  Jumpy. Distracted. I don’t know.

  Also couldn't guess how long he’d been gone when I woke up and realized he wasn’t next to me. That wasn’t unusual. He always goes to his own bed before morning, but it wasn’t morning today.

  Not even close.

  I found him outside. At the table near the pool. He said he couldn’t sleep, and told me to go back up to bed. I can’t say he was trying to get rid of me, exactly.

  Just had a feeling he didn’t want me out there right then.

  There was a faint scent of cigarette smoke in the air. Even stranger. I’ve never seen him smoke, not even once. Never saw any indication that he does, but my father smoked and the scent of it always brings back memories.

  Maybe it's the stress. Old habits coming back. I've heard of that, people who quit seeking comfort in old familiar tobacco when times get tough.

  I can forgive him. The memories, with dad, maybe not so much.

  There's too much there. Good and bad.

  The good ones are of him. Of us. The bad ones are of missing him. Losing him. The day several neatly dressed officers showed up on our doorstep with bad news. Those are the bitter, ice cold memories lingering inside me.

  They stoke very present fears.

  Of losing Brent. And Nat. And everything.

  “Ms. Derby, Ginger's eating paint again!” A small voice yells.

  Speaking of the present...I hurry to the finger paint station, where little Ginger sucks on the bristles of a paint brush. Kneeling down beside her, I take the brush from her hand. “No, no, little lady. We don’t want to eat paint,” I say, shaking my head.

  Her curly black pigtails flip and flop as she shakes her head. All the while licking the blue paint off her lips.

  “Let’s get you cleaned up.” I take her hand and lead her to the sink, where I drop the brush in the plastic bucket of soapy water and wet a paper towel to wipe her face. With big brown eyes and golden-brown skin, she’s absolutely adorable, and the tiniest four year old I’ve ever seen.

  Probably because she doesn’t eat much except for things she’s not suppose to. Paint. Glue. Crayons.

  “Five more minutes until clean up time!” I tell the rest of the class, giving Ginger a paper cup full of water to rinse out her mouth.

  I hear my phone buzz as a text comes in. Normally, I leave it in my purse in the closet all day, but not today.

  It’s on my desk.

  Brent has already sent several messages. Asking how things are going and saying that he misses me. Which is sweet, but also odd. That’s not like him. He's always saved his love for us in-person.

  Something's going on. Something bigger than I’d first imagined.

  More than Preston’s body being found. I truly don’t know how I feel about that. Sad, shocked, but also scared. Like there's another shoe ready to drop, and it may just be an ass-kicker.

  I get Ginger interested in a puzzle and then put away the rest of the paint before I go to my desk. It’s Brent again.

  How are you doing?

  Fine. I type back. And you?

  Good, babe. See you in a couple of hours.

  I set the phone down, but then pick it back up and type, Did you get a new phone or something?

  You’ve just never sent t
his many messages.

  His reply comes in. Weirdly off. Nah. Missing you.

  I swipe to the emoji screen, but only have time to tap on a heart and hit send because the crash of building blocks needs my attention.

  Class finally ends by the time I get a chance to look at the phone again. No more messages, but I have to admit that I'd enjoyed knowing he was thinking about me all day.

  “Do you ever go to football games?”

  “No,” I say to Nat, who walks into my classroom. I’ve never been a big sports fan, but enjoyed going to high school games with friends years ago. “Why? Do you want to go to the game tonight?”

  “No.” She starts helping me set the chairs on the tables so the janitor can clean the floor. “Just curious. The kids in my class were talking about it.”

  The entire school's been buzzing about how well the team is doing this year. “Well, if you do want to go, just let me know,” I say, not wanting to push, but certainly wanting to encourage. “I’ll take you. Your dad probably would, too. I've seen a Cardinals logo or two in his office.”

  “Okay! I’ll think about it. Thanks, Ms. Derby.”

  I grab my purse out of the closet and walk over to the desk to collect my phone. “Ever asked him to take you before?”

  She shakes her head. “I’d rather go to the ranch. Or hike up Camelback. Hey, you think Dad would want to go this weekend? It's finally cooling off!”

  Everyone leaves early on Friday afternoons. It’s barely three when she walks out the door. Following her, I click off the light. “We'll see. No idea what his plans are for the weekend, I'm afraid. You're right about the weather, though.”

  I smile, noticing I no longer feel the urge to instantly bust into flames stepping into the sun.

  Her eyes sparkle as she grins. “If we both ask, really nicely, I bet he’ll say yes!”

  I can’t help but smile. I love a good scheme. “Are you suggesting we gang up on him?”

  She shrugs, but her smile never falters.

  The more I’m around this kid, the more I like her. She has a light about her that never dims. Grasping her shoulder, I pull her to my side for a quick hug. “Let's feel him out. I've got your back if you give him a few words of encouragement.”