Snickers were the only thing that could be heard through the crowd.
Shiloh stepped back from Pierson, but as she did, her foot hit an uneven spot in the ground, and she pitched forward into the detective. He took that opening as an attack on his person, and moved.
Shiloh went down hard onto the pavement. Her face smashed into the wet grass that lined the side of the parking lot. Her face narrowly missed hitting the curb by mere millimeters. The pink cast that encased her arm didn’t. It smashed into the unforgiving concrete with a thud, and she cried out in agony.
“Get off her!” I snarled.
I knew better than to touch him, but it took everything I possessed to stop me.
“You are under arrest, anything you say or do...” Pierson snarled, pushing Shiloh into the grass even harder, yanking her hands behind her back so hard and tight that her back bowed with the effort to keep her shoulders from pulling out of the socket.
I was mere milliseconds from going for Pierson’s beady little eyes when a black wall of muscle plowed into Pierson, having him face first in the asphalt of the diner’s parking lot in the next heartbeat.
Ignoring Sam’s attempt to rein in his temper and not beat the ever-loving shit out of Pierson for daring to lay his hands on his baby sister, I went to Shiloh and helped her sit up. Her hand went to her casted one and she cradled it close to her chest, but her face was set in grim determination.
“You okay, Shiloh?” I said, dropping to my knees and pulling her into the wall of my chest.
“Pissed, but okay.” She said.
“Get off me!” Pierson screeched.
My eyes followed the screeching sounds, and I very nearly laughed. Sam had Pierson detained with a knee in the small of Pierson’s back, and one hand keeping his hands behind his back, much the same way he’d done to Shiloh.
“Oh, does this not feel good, you prick? Do you not like it when you get treated the same way you just treated an innocent woman? I don’t give a goddamn if you’re the fucking queen of England. You will never touch my fucking sister again, do you hear me?” He shouted in Pierson’s ear.
Pierson cowered away from him, his head turning, pleading practically for help from his fellow officers. None of it came.
“Do you see what is being done to me, you imbecile?” He sneered at the closest officer.
The man, one I’d seen from time to time around town, was a good man. He had a wife and new kid at home, and loved to show off pictures of his little boy. That same man who loved his kid so much turned his back on a fellow officer and walked further away from the scene.
Pierson tried it three more times with three other officers, all ranging from rookies to the most seasoned officers, all walked away and left him on his own.
“Now, I’m gonna let you go, but I better not find you even thinking about my sister again. James is off limits, too. You have an airtight story from him and eight other witnesses. Stop being a little prick and do your job.” He hissed as he shoved off him and stood.
We’d had our first run-in with Detective Pierson last year when Winter shot an intruder in her bedroom. Ever since then, we’d had the displeasure to be on his ‘list.’ He made it a habit to make sure we were on the up and up. Every once in a while he’d drop by on the pretense of having a ‘talk’ while subtly taking stock of everything that we said or did for the half hour he managed to weasel out of us.
“She attacked me!” He whined nasally.
Luke, a good friend and police officer, chose that moment to finally make his presence known. “Peterson, you’re fucking nuts if you thought she was attacking you. She’s about half your size and you easily have a hundred pounds on her. Knock it the fuck off before they try to charge you with something you can’t weasel or bribe your way out of.”
Shiloh started to rise. I helped her stand, and wrapped my arm around her waist for support. Luke turned and studied Shiloh before sighing and turning to Sam.
“Since this is a crime scene, she’s going to need to find a place to stay. I can’t let her up to her apartment until tomorrow evening at the earliest.” Luke sighed as he turned and surveyed the area.
“She’s right here. You don’t have to talk to her brother. It’s not the seventeenth century, douchebag.” Shiloh scolded.
I smiled despite my horrible mood, and then outright laughed when I saw the surprise overtake Luke’s face. “Ahh, Luke. You should know better.”
“She’s going to come home with me.” Sam growled.
“Like fuck.” Shiloh laughed.
Sam’s scowl turned ferocious as he pinned Shiloh with it. “What?”
“Just because you decided to be a brother for once in your miserable existence doesn’t mean I’m going to fall head over heels in love with the idea that you actually want something to do with me now. It’s going to take a lot more than that. Plus, I might annoy you in the middle of the night. I think I’ll take my chances with the hookers over there.” She pointed at the fleabag motel across the street.
Sam winced. “Look, Shiloh...”
“Don’t ‘look Shiloh’ me. I don’t care. I. Don’t. Care. You’re a shithead, and I’m not ready to talk to you yet. I’m still nursing my snit. Maybe after a few times of you proving that you can be more than a giant douchebag, I’ll actually spend some time with you.”
Sam seemed to deflate at her words. Guilt and disappointment flashed in his eyes before he covered them with a blank expression. He nodded once, and then turned to Luke to speak about what had happened.
“You’ll stay with me.” I told her.
“Okay.” She agreed.
Knowing that was too easy, I turned to her with raised brows.
She looked guilty for a moment before smiling wide. “My clothes are already at your house, along with my cat. There’s no reason not to stay with you. In fact, it makes more sense to stay with you. But, keep your hands to yourself. Also, try to keep the fucking with your girlfriend at a minimum. I need silence to sleep at night.”
“Girlfriend?” I asked flabbergasted.
“Yeah, that girl who you had your arms wrapped around today. That girlfriend.”
“I don’t have a girlfriend. That was just a friend.”
“Right.” She scoffed.
“She was.” I snapped.
“Whatever you say.”
“Not to mention the fact that I have a six year old at home. There won’t ever be any loud fucking there.” I said somewhat wistfully.
In truth, I wanted more from Shiloh than just to have her under my roof. I wanted her under me. I wanted her sweet delicious, curvy body underneath mine, writhing and straining while I thrust wildly inside her. I wanted to fuck her so hard that she screamed. Yet that would never happen, now or later, no matter if Janie was there or not.
I couldn’t let it. My heart wouldn’t be able to withstand Shiloh, the Texas Tornado. I’d been gutted and burned before, and I wasn’t sure I could handle it from Shiloh. She was a force to be reckoned with.
Chapter 7
Teach your girl to shoot, because a restraining order is just a piece of paper.
-Life Lesson
Shiloh
“Hey there, Boris.” I said to my cat, who’d made himself at home in James’ kitchen sink.
“You know, that’s an industrial sized sink.” James supplied with a smile evident in his voice.
He stepped to the side of the counter and watched as Boris caught a drop of water that’d leaked out of the faucet. Which was normal for him. I never bother to leave him a bowl. I just turn the faucet on to where it’d drip every few minutes.
“He’s a big boy. I found him on the side of the road on one of my many walks home.” I explained. “He startled me, and I fell.”
He laughed, like I’d intended. “Why does that not surprise me?”
“It shouldn’t. I’m a very clumsy person. Although the only accident I’ve ever been in was when I backed into my first boyfriend’s car when I was sixteen. He
smacked me, but then my brother kicked his ass and beat the shit out of his car with a sledge hammer.” I smiled wistfully.
James had a scowl the size of the Grand Canyon on his face. “I’d have done the same.”
“Yeah? Well, Cheyenne is a pretty wonderful woman. I sure wish I’d have gotten a chance to get to know her.” I agreed.
“Cheyenne wasn’t who I was talking about, but I do agree with you, she’s a pretty good sister. Why does it sound like you’re leaving?” He asked with another frown on his face.
I ignored that question. I’d taken the job with social services, but it was a temporary position, pending availability for a job opening, while a woman took medical leave after she’d given birth.
“I didn’t thank you yet, and I should. That was a pretty complicated shot.” I observed.
He nodded his head, a saddened look entering his eyes. “I was a sniper in the army. It was an easy shot. Try over three quarters of a mile away, and then get back to me. What time do you have to be at work in the morning?”
Guess he didn’t want to speak about blowing a guy’s head up like a watermelon dropping on to concrete. At least he wasn’t wearing the man’s brain like I was. Speaking of which, I needed a damn shower in the worst way.
“Nine. Can I use the shower?” I asked, then headed in the direction of the bathroom I’d glanced at earlier.
“What would you do if I’d have said no?” He asked drolly from behind me.
“Showered anyway, of course,” I smiled and flipped the light on in the bathroom before coming to a standstill, mouth open in fascination. “Wow!”
That’s all that came to mind when I saw the bathroom. In a way, it was fucking awesome, but it was a little much to handle at first.
“Yeah, Janie got to choose the decorations,” he laughed.
“Well, I have to say, that it is definitely interesting. She’s a little obsessed, though.” I laughed with him.
I couldn’t say that at six I was any better. However, where I was obsessed with My Little Pony, Janie was obsessed with motorcycles; which I guess was to be expected.
The bathroom was a plethora of Harley Davidson. Orange walls with black stripes. Motorcycle Fatheads adorned the wall behind the bathroom door. Motorcycle toothbrush holder and soap pump. The hand towels were black. Everything matched perfectly, that is until you got to one thing.
“Why the white curtain and rug? It seems a little out of place.” I said with a raised brow.
He bellowed with laughter now.
“Oh, you’ll see....” He said cryptically. “Towels are in the closet. Just shove all the toys to the side. I’ll go take a shower, too. Then we can figure out something for dinner.”
With that comment, he left, shutting the door quietly behind him.
The shower felt glorious. I scrubbed my skin until it turned a bright pink with a bar of soap that smelled like bubble gum. I washed my hair with Johnson’s baby shampoo, secretly enjoying the baby fresh scent.
Turning the shower off, I stepped out onto the white bath mat, and then closed the shower curtain behind me. Then I burst out laughing.
“Oh, my God!”
Janie’s only two things that didn’t match were the shower curtain and the rug. However, I could see why she’d bought them. I hadn’t noticed in the shower, but now that I’d turned around and got a good look at the curtain, I couldn’t miss the bloody handprint that showed up. Whether it was from the heat or the wetness, I didn’t know.
The bath mat was more of the same. Each drop of water showed up red, and you could clearly see two perfect prints of my feet from where I’d stepped on it when I got out of the shower. Each drip of water off my body only added to the effects.
How cool!
It wasn’t until I was done admiring Janie’s decorating skills, however, that I comprehended that I didn’t have anything to wear other than blood-splattered clothes. Sneaking out into the hallway with a towel wrapped securely around my chest, I tiptoed into James’ room in hopes of getting a t-shirt before he got out of his own bath.
His bathroom door was cracked slightly, and I could hear the pound of water hitting tile, and the sound of James moving around. It wasn’t until I got to James’ dresser that I realized that I could see through the crack in his door.
What I saw made me gasp. Whether in appreciation or apprehension, I didn’t know.
At first, I didn’t notice the man standing under the spray. I noticed the difference between his bathroom and Janie’s bathroom. White walls, black towels, and practically boring décor that managed to draw the eye, rather than bore it. There was no shower curtain in his, only a clear glass that went from ceiling just about waist level, and from there the glass became frosted.
James was standing there, water streaming from the faucet above his head, falling down his body in rivulets. Head hung. His muscular arms were up high above his head, holding on to the top of the glass with both hands. His chest was clear of any tattoos except for a lone crosshairs tattoo centered over a skull right over his heart. I could also clearly see the peak of something black sneaking up over his shoulder from his back.
He was wearing a pair of dog tags that fell to about pec level, drawing attention to his muscular chest, and rock hard abs. I followed the ridges of his stomach lower until my gaze was interrupted by the different colored glass. Disappointment settled in my gut as I wished that the stupid frosted glass wasn’t there. Then maybe I could see the other half of his body. Specifically the cock I’d felt through his clothes earlier when he was holding me.
While I was trying to will away the glass covering his lower half, one of his hands came down, rubbing down his chest, abs, and then lower. My eyes flew to his face, and I watched as his face went from blank, to a picture of pleasure in the next second.
He growled low in his throat, and I let my eyes devour his body. The motion of his hand behind the frosted glass could only be one thing. His hand was moving slow at first, and I watched as the muscles in his arms, chest, and abs tensed and relaxed with each movement. Slowly, he picked up speed until his whole body was tensing in anticipation of his release.
Arm pumping fast, I could now hear the ‘slap, slap’ of skin against skin.
Unconsciously, I let my own hand sneak down until I was touching myself as well. My middle finger working my clit at the same speed that James’ hand was moving on his cock. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I realized that what I was doing was so very wrong, but what would it hurt to watch?
I found that out a few seconds later when he came with a grunt. His eyes snapped open, and then his lust-filled eyes locked to mine. My own orgasm coursed through me, but there was nothing I could do but let it flow through me.
I told myself to run. To move my feet. To get out of there.
Yet my feet stayed locked in place as the shower door opened, and I got my first good look at James’ massive appendage. With a freaking piercing. In his freaking penis.
“Mother fucker,” I breathed.
His smirk pointed out that my comment didn’t go unnoticed by him. He grabbed the closest towel off the towel rack and started drying himself off with practical motions. First his shoulders and chest, then down to his legs. His hair, and finally his package.
All the while I watched, willing myself to move.
The door opened all the way, and he walked up to me slowly, as if he was scared I’d run if he moved too fast. “Like what you saw?”
All I could do was nod. “I-I came for a t-t-shirt. My clothes are dirty.” I stuttered.
Grabbing a t-shirt off the end of the bed as he passed, he stopped in front of me, feet inches away from my own. Reaching down, he slowly pulled my hand, and my face flamed when I realized that my hand was still buried in between my legs.
What he did next floored me.
Bringing my hand up, he pulled the two fingers I’d been using to stroke my clit, and sucked them into his mouth. Running the length of his tongue along each finger, suck
ing and licking the juices from them.
My face flamed for a different reason this time. Desire.
“Maybe next time you can join...” James started to say, but then was interrupted by the front door banging open, and then slamming shut.
“Daddy! I’m hungry! Cheyenne sent me home. She said I needed a bath, and to ask you for dinner. They were eating broccoli rice shit. I didn’t want to eat with her ass anyway.” Janie griped.
Nothing could’ve been more effective.
The desire I’d been feeling was instantly replaced with shock, then my flight instinct kicked in and I ran to his bathroom, slamming the door behind me.
My God. What have I just done?
***
I emerged from the confines of the bathroom fifteen minutes later. When the cool air of his bedroom hit my face, I was relieved to see James nowhere in sight. I could hear James low deep voice speaking with the high-pitched one of his daughter’s, and laughed when I heard the conversation.
“Daddy, can we color tonight?” Janie asked.
“As long as it’s on paper.”
A muttered curse had James’ stifling a snort, but then he scolded her. “Janie, sometime this week you’re going to have someone else come visit you. Don’t say any bad words in front of them, okay?”
That brought up another question I’d meant to ask him. What did that cop mean by being investigated? Would my new job ask me to do that? I’d have to tell them no, and then they’d want to know why.
It’d be a good idea to at least find out why before I’m brought into the middle of it.
Slipping on the sweat pants that were so nicely laid out for me on the end of the bed, I walked out of the room, and steeled myself for the embarrassment of seeing James again.
I wasn’t disappointed. The man looked at me as if I was sex on a stick, and his eyes devoured everything. From the way I wasn’t wearing a bra, to the t-shirt that still smelled of him, all the way down to the sweat pants that hung low on my hips, and only stayed on because of the drawstring.
Texas Tornado Page 7
