by Lexie Ray
Suddenly, he slowed his pace down and took long, deliberate glides all the way in, then all the way out, stiff and slow. But that was even better. Hunter could feel each delicious inch stroke in and fill her then slide out, causing a friction that gave Hunter the kind of pleasure that was indescribably good. She moaned loudly, unable to catch her breath. She grabbed the sheets, balling the fabric in her fists as she fought the upward sweeping ache of her building arousal.
“Ash, you’re gonna make me come,” she whispered.
So, he slowed down even more, holding his massive shaft inside her, unmoving. Hunter caught her breath. When Ash could tell she had calmed, he began grinding into her.
She was on the brink, barely holding on. His body was caressing, gliding along, and grinding into her most sensitive spots. Her body was on fire. She was about to tip over the edge.
“Hunter?”
“Yeah?” She moaned.
“When I start fucking you fast...”
“Yes?”
“I want you to come for me,” he said.
The words alone could have made her climax, Hunter was so close, but she held on a little longer. Long enough for Ash to begin thrusting quickly.
As soon as he did, she exploded into a series of strong clenching waves. The aching heat and erotic ripples caused her to cry out in a moan of pure ecstasy while she climaxed.
Ash came, as well, in that very same moment, exhaling a low moan into her ear.
Their bodies rocked together, riding each other, riding the wave upon waves of pleasure that coursed through them until their simultaneous orgasm subsided.
Ash pulled her chin towards him and kissed her mouth.
“I love you,” he said.
“I love you, too,” said Hunter. “We can do this all day if you like.”
He smiled at that and kissed her once again. She could still feel the pulse of his body inside her.
Ash pulled her towards him so that she rested on his chest.
“Where’s the remote?” she asked. “I want to check for updates.”
Ash grabbed the TV remote from the nightstand and turned on the television. The child porn ring had made national headlines and developments were still being made and reported on daily.
Hunter took the remote and clicked through the channels until she saw Detective Linden fill the screen. She turned up the volume.
On the screen, Linden bent over a bouquet of microphones at some kind of press conference. He explained how the case they’d built was airtight and that Lorne Mann and Sarah Voss would be tried separately. The trials were scheduled to begin tomorrow.
A reporter asked Linden how it felt to have been partnered with such a woman. How did it feel not to know? Linden stuttered a response, recovering nicely in Hunter’s opinion. As far as she was concerned, Linden was a hero. He had given Hunter and Ash their freedom, complete freedom, and she would be forever eternally grateful.
That day in the hospital when Linden had arrived with his questions, Hunter had been certain he was angling to lock her up. He had known she shot Dale Williams behind the sugar factory, and that both Thomas and Travis had died at her hand, as well as Ash’s. She had been terrified that Linden would arrest her, separate her from Ash, and that she would spend the rest of her life miserable behind bars.
But none of that happened. Linden hadn’t even interrogated her, he spoke to her calmly, respectfully. All that he had needed was clear statements from her and Ash. With those submitted they wouldn’t even need to attend the trials as witnesses. They would be entirely free to go.
Still shots of Sarah and Grizzly filled the TV screen, as the news anchor recapped the federal sting operation at the storage facility, but Hunter had seen enough. She muted the TV.
A cell phone on the nightstand began vibrating. It was Hunter’s, so she picked it up, looking at the screen.
She smiled.
“Today might be our lucky day,” she said, meeting Ash’s gaze.
* * *
One of the greatest things about working in a coffee shop was that Hunter could drop by pretty much whenever she wanted for a free cup and a pastry.
The coffee shop was cozy, a small space filled with fluffy lounge chairs angled in nooks and corners, snugged between hand-painted coffee tables and beaded standing lamps.
As soon as Hunter and Ash walked through the door, unwrapping their scarves from around their necks and unbuttoning their fall jackets, they spotted Linden, his large figure crammed awkwardly in a plush paisley armchair.
He rose to greet them, giving Ash a handshake and Hunter a heartfelt hug. Then, they all sat down. Not a second after they did, a waitress came by, a friend of Hunter’s. She set down a tray of coffee, cream, and sugar. Hunter thanked the girl, handing the mugs to Linden then Ash.
“It’s nice here,” said Linden. “I’ve never been. This is where you work?”
“We both work here,” said Hunter, placing her hand on Ash’s knee.
“It’s a nice area, right on Prospect Park,” said Linden. “I’m glad to see you both doing so well.”
Hunter and Ash looked at each other, smiling. “Yeah, we’re doing pretty well,” said Hunter.
“You’re the hero of national news,” Ash said, congratulating Linden, who bashfully smirked, shaking his head.
“Well, that’s blown out of proportion. The real heroes are you two,” said Linden, looking from Ash to Hunter so that his compliment would land with the weight of truth. “Really, if you hadn’t fought, if you hadn’t done what you did those girls would never have been found and reunited with their families. We would have never known Sarah Voss was at the helm of such heinousness. Without you two Lorne Mann wouldn’t be behind bars. You did good, both of you. Really good.”
Hunter pressed her mouth into a smile that carried the gravity of all they’d been through.
“What’s going to happen to Blair?” asked Hunter.
She sensed Ash drop with an edge of frustration. It was easy for Ash to write Blair off as a terrible person, but Hunter had always felt that her sister was good, only brainwashed and acting blindly on habit and not from the heart.
“Because of her role at the storage facility and because she so clearly sided with your parents, we had to arrest her, as you know,” said Linden, beginning the explanation. “But the city, as well as the Federal government, believe that she is just as much a victim as any of the girls at the farmhouse. We conducted a full psychological assessment and deemed it more appropriate to rehabilitate Blair with therapy. She’s going to be moved from jail to a very nice facility in Carroll Gardens in a few days to begin her therapy. She’s mandated to stay there for five years, but you can visit her.” Linden handed Hunter a business card that contained all the information of the facility. “She’s going to be ok, Hunter. It’ll take time, but eventually you’ll have your sister back.”
Hunter was moved. She knew if it had been anyone else but Linden working this case, Blair would get thrown in prison alongside Sarah. It meant the world to Hunter that Blair would not be forgotten and that she was being treated like a person, like someone who survived terrible things and needed love, care, and help to recover.
“Thank you so much,” said Hunter, her voice hitching in her throat, even though she told herself not to cry. She didn’t want to get sappy.
“It was the right thing to do,” he said. “No need to thank me.” Linden took a long sip of his coffee, then resumed. “The reason I asked you both here is to give you some good news. The State of New Hampshire created a restitution fund for you both.”
Hunter looked at Linden blankly.
“Do you know what that means?” he asked.
“It’s a trust of money, right?” asked Ash.
“That’s right,” said Linden. “The State has awarded both of you fifteen thousand dollars, available immediately. The money is intended for therapy and making your lives easier. Some people who have survived what you both did growing up have difficulty
holding a job, making and maintaining relationships, taking care of themselves and that sort of thing because their day to day life can be filled with high emotions, triggers, and depression. We want to help you through anything that might arise. It’s not a ton of money, but it can help, especially during the next few years if you’d like to see a therapist regularly.”
Hunter couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Now, she couldn’t help it. Tears sprung to her eyes, and she didn’t hold back, as she instantly began crying tears of relief.
Ash held her hand tightly. “Thank you so much,” he said.
“Well,” said Linden. “You two deserve it. I wish it was more money.”
“It’s plenty. Thank you so much,” said Hunter.
“And it can be used for anything?” questioned Ash.
“Technically, yes,” said Linden. “Though therapy, medication, helping a financially tight month, those are the things its intended for.”
Ash looked at Hunter, a coy smile spreading across his face.
In an instant she knew what he was thinking: Brazil.
She smiled brightly.
“You two are up to something,” Linden said with a smile. “Whatever it is, be responsible, please.” He handed them each a manila envelope. “Here is the information for each of the funds.” Linden rose to his feet, “Take care of each other.” And with that he made his way out of the coffee shop.
* * *
That afternoon, Hunter and Ash walked hand in hand through Prospect Park, admiring the turning leaves, their red, orange, and golden colors.
They looked around, taking in the sights, the beauty. On the rolling hills that stretched out before them, friends sat on picnic blankets laughing, children played with each other—flying kites and kicking balls— and runners jogged the winding paths.
It was a beautiful day.
It was the perfect start to a brand new life.
~ END ~
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