Intoxication: Blue Line Book Three

by Brandy Ayers

Not bothering to answer the question, she reached up to swirl her finger in a pool of his cum between her breasts, and brought it to her lips. His flavor burst over her tongue as she sucked the salty liquid off her finger.

  “You’re going to kill me, Cami. You’re so sexy, and you aren’t even trying. It’s just your natural way.” Jon collapsed next to her on the bed, sucking in deep breathes, as they both recovered from their intense fucking. He pulled her half on top of his chest, not seeming to care that he was smearing his cum all over both their bodies.

  “So, does this mean that I can call you Daddy now?”

  Jon laughed loud and long, and Cami smiled, glad he hadn’t taken offense to her joke about their age difference. “Woman I’m not afraid to spank you, so watch it.”

  He pulled her in even tighter and kissed the top over her head. Never in all her life had Camille felt so contented and happy.

  She knew somewhere out there her brother lurked, wanting her dead, biding his time. But she couldn’t work up the strength to care just at that moment. Not while she laid sated and smiling in Jon’s arms.

  ***

  “Jon, I don’t want to sound ungrateful, because I appreciate all you have done for me over the past several weeks.” Camille walked up behind the now scruffier than ever Chief of Police and wrapped her arms around his waist, resting her cheek on his back, as he continued to chop the veggies she had picked that morning. She absolutely loved the scruff he was growing, and the unruly hair that he had no choice but to grow out since they didn’t exactly have a barber down the street. “Especially all the orgasms. But I swear to God if I have to watch another buddy cop movie I am going to scream.”

  Her lover’s laugh did nothing to smooth over her frayed nerves. They had been hiding in the cabin for almost two months. And while the last several weeks had been amazing now that they were both open and honest about how much they wanted each other, Camille was ready for this whole freaking thing to be over.

  They had sex every morning and night, and usually twice in between. Jon had gone to the nearest town the day after their first night together to stock up on condoms, and they were almost out. The truth was she despised the little rubber devils. She wanted Jon inside her bare, but he refused to give into her most the time, and when he did he always pulled out and came on her chest. As hot as she found that particular act, she wanted to feel Jon let loose inside her, with nothing between them. She wanted his hot cum filling her up, and yes, she wanted to have his babies.

  But he insisted she wasn’t ready for that. He talked about her going back to college once her brother was caught. Starting her life over where it had left off, but with him in it. She hadn’t had the heart to tell him that she no longer held any desire to see more pain as a doctor. She’d experienced enough pain to last a lifetime. And though she did plan on going back to school to get her degree, it wouldn’t be in any field as rigorous as pre-med. She wasn’t exactly sure what it would be yet, but she had plenty of time to figure it out.

  When they weren’t having sex or discussing her future, they were outside working the land, hiking, or sparring, something Camille had quickly found she loved. They started each day with another lesson in self-defense boxing. Jon had even set up a little shooting range away from the cabin where he taught her to shoot both his service weapon and a shotgun. In the evenings, they watched movies and read books. The problem was they had watched every single action movie he owned, and even a couple of the VHS Disney movies Jon had dug up from Sophie’s old room.

  Camille’s cabin fever was at an all-time high. If she didn’t get some form of entertainment that did not involve a straight-laced cop and his quipping reckless partner soon, she thought she very well might pull her hair out.

  “Okay, sweetheart. I’ve been putting off running into town for supplies, so I guess I can make the trip today.” Jon rested the knife on the edge of the sink and turned to wrap his arms around her waist, cupping her ass cheeks in his wide palms. “In addition to the food, and condoms we need, I’ll grab you a couple new movies. What are you looking for?”

  Camille listed off every rom-com she could think of while Jon made a list. They didn’t talk much about the case, but Camille knew it wasn’t going great, so they could still be at the cabin for a while. She needed to make sure they were well stocked for entertainment.

  “Can I take a look at the list to see if I need anything before you go?” Jon nodded and handed over the scrap of paper before heading to their room to grab a shirt and his shoes. Writing quickly before he returned, Camille scribbled down her changes to the list and folded it in half.

  “Okay, sweetheart, I’ll be back in about two hours, don’t forget to lock everything behind me, and don’t go outside until I get back.” Jon’s commanding voice sent shivers over her skin. She fucking loved that voice, and couldn’t comprehend how no woman had snatched him up yet when he used it.

  As much as she loved his bossy tone, he loved it even more when she gave him sass, so she made sure to give it to him in spades. “Yes, sir. I will remain inside pining for you until your return, Daddy.” She gave him a crisp salute, and tried to suppress the grin fighting at the corners of her mouth.

  “What did I say I’d do if you called me that again?” Jon stalked toward her with fire in his eyes. Damn she loved pushing his buttons.

  Before she could respond her bent over and lifted her onto his broad shoulder, one hand coming down in a loud smack on her ass. The sharp sting of the spank was softened slightly by her cotton yoga pants, but still made her wet and achy inside.

  “Now, when I get back, I’m bending you over that table and giving you ten more of those until your naked ass is red with my hand print. Then I’m going to fuck you until you scream my name.” He set her back on her feet, gripping her hips until she found her balance again.

  Camille couldn’t keep the smile from her face if she had tried. Jon kissed her once more, just a fast peck this time, turned and headed for the door, grabbing his keys and wallet off the hallway table as he went. Before he could reach the door, Cami called out to him. “If that is supposed to be some deterrent from calling you Daddy, you’re going about it in the totally wrong way.”

  “Woman, you are going to kill me.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Jon

  Pulling into the parking lot of the grocery store, Jon double checked the list to make sure he would be able to get everything as fast as possible and get back to his Cami-girl. The mouth on that girl made him fucking rock hard every time. He was even starting to think her whole ‘Daddy’ shtick was funny as hell.

  A laugh burst from his mouth as Jon continued down the list. Camille had scratched out ‘condoms’ on the list and replaced it with ‘your bare cock in me as soon as you get back.’ It was getting harder and harder for him to do the right thing. He knew she might regret it if she got pregnant now, right after going through the trauma of being held captive by her brother and tortured by his goons. It amazed him every day how she took things in stride. Camille didn’t bury the pain, she acknowledged it, put it in its place and then moved on. Watching her as she moved about the place, not realizing his eyes followed her at all times, he saw how a memory would hit her, stopping her in her tracks. Eyes squeezed closed, she would breath through it, let it wash over, then take one big deep breath, square her shoulders, open her eyes, and go on her way. The only times she seemed completely at ease was when she was in her garden or in his arms.

  Still, each night she woke screaming from nightmares she couldn’t fight in her sleep, and each time Jon held her and soothed her back to sleep. But she was so insistent she wanted him bare again, it was damn hard to ignore.

  Jon had given up on the idea of having a family of his own long ago. Sophie had been as close as he would ever get to being a father. But now a whole world of possibilities lay before him. And he wanted all of it. The kids. The chaos. The wife.

  Jon started the truck back up and pulled out of the parking lot. Ther
e was a stop he had to make before grocery shopping. His woman’s left ring finger was far too bare, and he needed to fix that immediately.

  ***

  As he made the turn onto the long access road back to the cabin his heart raced as if he’d just gone four rounds with his trainer. The truck was filled with enough supplies to get them through another three weeks, if the investigation went much beyond that they would need to think long term options, because as much as he wanted to, they couldn’t stay out in the middle of nowhere forever. According to Luke, they mayor and city council president were getting tired of Jon’s absence. Much longer and they would vote to fire him, without his pension, which he couldn’t accept. HE needed to leave on his own terms so he would have the means to support the family he never expected to have.

  He didn’t see Cami’s brother bothering to chase after them across the country, not while he had the police so far up his ass he could taste the polish on their shoes, and the FEDs were already chomping at the bit to let them take over the case. So Jon’s plan was to convince Camille to go back to school, in California. He’d seen her transcripts, 4.0 across the board, even in the subjects Jon barely understood the names of.

  He could do some consulting on the side, maybe get his PI license and get back to what he used to love, investigating. Hell, he’d stay home and play Mr. Mom if she was serious about the whole kids thing.

  The thought brought a grin to his face. He was getting old, but he wasn’t so old that he couldn’t chase a couple toddlers around in the sun. Wasn’t so old he couldn’t go all night trying to put those kids in Camille’s belly. His cock swelled behind his zipper.

  The truck rocked back and forth as he bumped along the worn road leading to the cabin, he couldn’t wait to sink into his woman, then get down on one knee and put the ring burning a hole through his pocket on her finger. The jewelry store was a small mom and pop place specializing in vintage designs. For a moment after walking in Jon had feared he wouldn’t know what to pick out for her, but then he looked in the first case and it just popped out, apart from the rest of the rings. He could visualize her wearing it, her fingers entwined with his as he slowly pumped his cock into her sweet pussy. Two minutes in the store and he’d walked back out with a simple, yet beautiful diamond ring.

  Finally, he broke through the tree line and pulled into the gravel clearing they used for parking. But instead of anticipation filling his blood, trepidation slid through his veins. Something wasn’t right. The air felt wrong. Everything looked fine, the house and property appearing as it always did, but his nerves were going haywire. If he had learned anything during his career in law enforcement, it was to trust his gut. And his gut said trouble lingered nearby.

  Trying to act naturally, he parked the truck in its normal spot, and as he leaned over to grab a couple bags filled with food, he also grabbed the glock he had strapped under the passenger seat. He hid it in his waist band, straightened up, and got out of the truck. Walking to the front door he knew without a doubt he was about to walk into some major shit, but there was no other real choice. Camille was inside, and he had to make sure she stayed safe. If he found the worst had happened, he’d fuck up whoever was responsible beyond recognition.

  The door handle practically sizzled in his hand from the tension radiating off his skin. Gathering the strength he would need to step through the door into whatever awaited for him, Jon pushed the door open. No amount of deep breathing or preparing would have made a slight bit of difference though.

  A gun stared him in the face, the tip vibrating softly. His eyes traced down the barrel to the delicate hand gripping it, trying not to shake. Standing directly in front of him, tears streaming down her soft cheeks, was his sweet Camille.

  “I’m so sorry, Jon. I love you.” Before he could respond, the sharp crack of gunfire filled his ears. White hot pain surged through his chest, and he slumped to the ground, trying with all his strength to tell her he loved her too. But the words wouldn’t form.

  Chapter Twelve

  Camille

  The moment Jon walked out the door for his supply run, Camille went to work. There was no way he could see this coming. After all they hadn’t talked about it at all, but she had her ways of getting information. Chief Jon Gallo’s birthday would not go unnoticed, not on her watch, and she would make it the best damn one of his life.

  While she worked, the grin on her face never diminished. It only intensified each time she thought of his reaction as he read the additions to the list she made. Maybe corrections was the better word. She set about making her mother’s famous chocolate cake, with a few substitutions for things that were missing in the cabin.

  Thinking about her parents always made a hollow ache form in her chest. She missed them every day. They were good parents to her, even if they didn’t recognize their first born son’s cruel nature. Every year until she was twelve, Camille sat on a stool and watched as her mother prepared this same cake for her birthday. Once she hit thirteen, she began to think her time was more important than her mother’s, and stopped the tradition. There was nothing she wouldn’t give for those few years back to do things differently.

  Just as she slipped the cake tins into the oven, the front door creaked open. Heart racing, she slipped off the apron, rubbing her batter speckled hands on the stiff fabric. Shit, had she lost track of time while baking? Jon was about to unwittingly ruin all her surprises. Obviously, she couldn’t run out to the mall or hop on Amazon all the way out here, so she technically didn’t have a gift for him. But there was a particularly sexy set of lingerie she had been saving just for this occasion. Camille really could kiss Sophie her the things she’d packed in the hopes of getting Camille and Jon together.

  “Did you forget something, Jon?” Silence was the only response to greet her. Strange. Usually he called out to her whenever he came in from outside, even to just gather firewood. Despite the hot summer days, the nights were beginning to cool off, and Camille loved sitting with him by the fire, talking and making love. But he hadn’t announced his arrival this time.

  Fear pricked at the back of her neck. Jon wouldn’t forget anything either. The man was meticulous about everything. Something she loved about him.

  No, someone else was in the cabin with her. Which meant they had found her. In some ways it was a relief. She’d spent the past few months constantly looking over her shoulder, waiting for them to come. She thought she hid it well from Jon, the constant fear, the sudden overwhelming memories. The ghosts of pain in her now healed bones. But now that she was proven right, everything clicked into place.

  This would be the end.

  Camille could only hope Jon wouldn’t go completely off the rails when he found her either dead or missing.

  “No need to creep around, whoever is out there I know you’re here, so just come out.” She grabbed a knife from the block on the counter, ready to defend herself for as long as she had to. There was little hope Jon would be back in time to save her, but she could at least put up a good fight. Leave some evidence behind to lead the police to this bastard. Like maybe some of his blood.

  A slow, sinister chuckle echoed out from the cavernous living room. “Your brother always said you’re a bit of a pistol.” A tall, thin man stepped into the kitchen, carrying a bag that sagged with the weight of his trade, death. The face she would never forget swam before her, mixing with the memories from all those weeks ago. His sneering eyes as he leaned in to put out another cigar on her skin. As he crushed her fingers in his fisted hands. The whole time smiling this sick stretch of too thin lips across tobacco stained lips. Mac Henry wore the same expression now. “Oh no, wait, I think what he really said is that you’re a spoiled brat.”

  Camille clutched the knife handle in her hand, ready to swing out the moment he got close enough. She tried to hold the panic and fear inside, not let this bastard see how much he truly affected her. But he was a bloodhound when he came to fear. He could sniff it out from a mile away, and trace i
t to its origin. No matter the tough bravado she tried to put on, he would undoubtedly see right through it.

  “The good news, for me, not you, is that the boss has taken off all restrictions when it comes to your capture. I can do whatever I want to you. As long as I bring you back in some form, he doesn’t give a shit if you’re dead, alive, or so damaged from the things I do to you that speaking will be impossible.”

  Chest rising and falling in rapid time, she tried like hell to keep it together. She knew what to do. Jon had taught her everything she needed to know in the mornings after they both ate breakfast. Her had taught her to fight, how to get leverage over larger attackers, and how to avoid getting pinned down. The handle of the knife solid and warm in her hand, behind her back, reassured her. She’d use it. She’d get away.

  “Cozy place you have here.” He took another leisurely step forward, totally relaxed and unconcerned. “I always knew you were a piece of trash, but shacking up with the chief of police, that’s a little more than even I would have given a slut like you credit for. I’m going to enjoy plowing through what that pompous asshole thinks is his. I’ll make sure to tear you up good, make sure no man will over want what I leave between your legs; if you survive that is.”

  She couldn’t stop the gag that lurched through her body, rejecting on a basic level the disgusting words that spewed from his mouth. And it only made him laugh more. The sick fuck got off on her fear and disgust. She’d known that since he spent a few days torturing her in the basement of a warehouse months ago. She still had nightmares about his empty brown eyes, lighting with fire, as he caused her even more pain. How the only time she really saw any life in his face was when he described in excruciating detail what he would do to her if there weren’t limits set by her brother.

  Now there were apparently no limits. And every disgusting word he said over those days rushed back in a flood of filth over her body. But all at once she realized that might be his weakness, his propensity for loving the sound of his own voice. If she could keep him talking, maybe it would delay whatever plans he had and make it more likely that Jon could get back to save her from the worst of it.