by Stella Stone
I almost cringe, but I don’t. It takes everything inside of me to hide my disdain about his suggestion. I had to turn down an acceptance into one of the best, most renown, cosmetology schools in the country to come here.
Now, he’s telling me to go to podunk school, in podunk nowhere, where they probably teach you how to use boxed color.
I want to scream.
“How do I get there? The bus?” I snort.
He shakes his head pulling something out of his pocket. I watch as he slides it over in front of me, then takes his hand away.
It’s a set of keys.
“Dad?”
He clears his throat. “Mine when I was sixteen. Kept it for my son, but never had one. She’s yours. Take care of her,” he mutters.
Maybe his words should warm my heart, but his mention of my brother only makes my heart sink. We only knew Andy for a whole hour.
My father did have a son, my brother who died at one hour old, then my mother followed shortly behind him. I hate that he doesn’t think about him or acts as if he never existed. I only saw him for a minute, but I fell in love with him instantly. I’ve never forgotten him, nor pretended he didn’t exist.
A few weeks after they died, that was when I was sent away to live with my aunt. My dad couldn’t take care of me. He was heartbroken, and I was an angry teenage girl. We have always been the definition of oil and water. Me being sent away, only made me angrier and only pushed us farther apart.
I know what car he’s talking about. It’s the 1972 Barracuda. Cherry red, with a black stripe down the side, this car was the envy of all my friends in school when he would drop me off in the morning.
“I can’t take it,” I whisper, sliding the keys back toward him.
My father loves this car. Took better care of it than he did me. There’s no way I can take it from him. This is his prized possession.
He shakes his head, “Take her. She’s yours, Ellie.” I freeze at his mention of my name, a nickname that he hasn’t called me in years.
Wrapping my hand around the keys, I wonder if I can let any of this anger go. Then I wonder if he’s giving me the car as some kind of bribe to do just that. My father doesn’t do talks, he doesn’t do tears or emotion. He stuffs.
Maybe that’s what this is, a different form of stuffing. Maybe I’ll just let it slide, for now, and try to make the best of this situation. After all, I did find Grant. And the Barracuda. Maybe I’m being self-centered, but this car is sexy as hell and I’ve dreamed about it since I was a kid.
CHAPTER SEVEN
GRANT
Clearing my throat, I walk out of the elevator and directly toward Liam Thomas’ secretary. She’s sitting behind her desk and when her eyes lift to me she sucks in a breath. She’s a pretty little thing, petite, young, and wide-eyed. I can see why he keeps eye candy like her around.
“Detective Anderson here to see Mr. Thomas,” I explain.
She gulps and looks down, then looks back up at me before clicking on her keyboard. “He’s in a meeting, but I’ve just sent him a notification of your arrival. Can I get you something to drink, Detective?” she asks.
Her voice is sweet. It floats through the air and if I weren’t hard up for a curvy little redhead, I would be trying to make a move on this sweet little piece myself.
“No thank you, sweetheart,” I wink.
Her cheeks tint pink and I smirk that I’ve made her blush. The door opens from the office behind her. I watch as a short round man, and a tall built man both around my age walk out.
“Thank you, Bob, I’ll be sure to look over those reports and get back to you,” the taller man mutters shaking the shorter man’s hand.
The round man walks away as the other makes his way toward me. My eyes glance to the secretary who watches the taller man’s every move. Her pink cheeks turn bright red as she does. Oh, she has a thing for her boss, naughty girl.
Standing, I hold out my hand. “Detective Anderson,” I introduce.
“Liam Thomas,” he mutters gripping my hand in a firm shake. “Come into my office. Did Shawn offer you any refreshments?” he asks.
I answer, telling him that she did, as we make our way into his office. As soon as I take a seat, I explain to him what was written in the report, getting right down to business. Then ask him if he has anything to add.
“My ex has been trying to find out a way to bleed money from me,” he immediately states. I lift a brow, waiting for him to continue and he does. “Our marriage was over a long time ago, but we stayed together for whatever reason,” he says shaking his head. “That is, until I found her in bed with another man. Our prenup clearly stated that she got nothing if she committed adultery, as did my section of the document, as well.”
“So, after how many years, she left with nothing?” I ask, taking notes.
He shakes his head, clearing his throat. “I was pissed, but more at the fact that we’d been stuck in this shit marriage and neither of us wanted to be in it anymore. I was aggravated at all of the wasted time, the expended years. I didn’t have to give her anything, but I did. I bought a small home for her and gave her a lump sum to help her get on her feet,” he explains.
“That’s pretty nice of you,” I say, meaning every word.
He chuckles, but it sounds humorless. “One would think, right?” he blows out a breath. “She went through the cash in a few months and has been taking me to court and badgering me for over a year and a half for more money. I felt bad at first, kept giving her cash.”
“Then, it became clear it was never going to end,” I offer, and he nods.
“Now this,” he shakes his head. “I want to ignore it, but what if it’s real?”
I nod, glad to see that there are still good people in the world. Sometimes I feel like I see only the shitbags of society.
“I’ll see what I can find out. Can you write down her name, address, and any other information you have on her. Where she’d be working, her birthdate, friends, family she may get into contact with?”
“Sure, I can have my secretary get it to you within the hour,” he says.
I lift my chin as I stand, shaking his hand. “Thanks, Mr. Thomas,” I say.
“Liam is fine, detective,” he chuckles.
“I’ll be in touch,” I smile.
Leaving the man’s office, I say goodbye to his sexy little secretary and head toward my car. My phone burns a hole in my pocket as I think about Elise and the way she walked into the precinct earlier this afternoon.
I want to call her.
I want to spank her ass.
I want to fuck her.
I grin, pulling my phone out of my pocket.
“Hello?” her sweet voice questions.
“Miss me, little doll?” I ask, keeping my voice smooth.
I hear her breathing pick up immediately, “Grant,” she pants.
“I saw your outfit today,” I state. She gasps at my observation but doesn’t speak. “Trying to give every man in eye view a hard on?”
Elise hums, and I wonder what she’s doing, if she’s home lounging on her ugly yellow couch, or if she’s lying in her blue sheets, surrounded by her white comforter. My cock grows hard against the zipper of my pants as I picture her spread out on that bed, waiting for me.
“Maybe I was just hoping you’d be watching,” she purrs.
I’m not able to hold back my own groan from her words. My hand flies to my pants and I squeeze my dick from the outside, wishing I weren’t driving, hoping I can see her again tonight.
“I was right,” she breathes.
I grunt. “Yeah, little doll, you were right.”
“When will I see you again, Grant?”
I shake my head, wishing I could give her an answer. I can’t. I don’t know if anyone will be watching her place tonight. I haven’t been asked, so I know it isn’t me. But if someone else is on duty, I’m fucked.
“Soon, Elise, fucking soon.”
Ending the call, I throw my p
hone on the passenger seat of the car. Gripping the steering wheel, I wonder when I really will be able to see her again. Honest to fuck, I don’t know how long I’ll be able to stay away from her sweet body.
CHAPTER EIGHT
ELISE
Three days.
It’s been three days since Grant visited me. I still can’t call him, and he hasn’t called me. I’m angry and hurt at the obvious rejection, but I also feel unsettled. I can’t ask him what the hell is wrong with him. I don’t know where to find him.
The Barracuda roars as I drive downtown toward the police station. My father has taken an alarming interest in my cosmetology path. Today I had a meeting with the school, to see about transferring my credits from high school and the few community college classes I took.
Apparently dear old dad wants to hear all about my day. I’m not sure where this fatherly thing has come from, but I’m trying not to be a bitch to him, as hard as it is.
Pulling into the police only parking lot, I turn the engine off and swing open the door.
“Sweet ride,” a deep voice chuckles.
There’s a hand in front of me, and I look up, following its path to a handsome man’s face. Slipping my palm into his, I allow him to help me up. He’s got a detective’s badge wrapped around his neck, and his dark eyes roam over me as I stand.
“Miss Griffin?” he asks.
His voice is deep but not as deep as Grant’s, and I hate that I’m comparing him, but I can’t get the beautiful man off of my mind.
“And you are?” I ask, slipping my hand out of his to smooth down my dress.
His eyes flick down to watch me and then come back up, and his lips twitch into a smile. “Noah Fields, detective Noah Fields,” he says puffing his chest out.
“I’m Elise, nice to meet you,” I smile. He seems a bit cocky, but he’s handsome enough.
A horn honks, causing me to jump. Looking behind me, I notice that there’s a black sedan, with limousine tinted front windows, pulled up next to us.
“My partner, he’s kind of a grumpy asshole,” Noah chuckles.
I give him a smile, and attempt to scoot past him, but his fingers wrap around my waist to halt my movement. I freeze, my eyes flicking down to his hand, then back up to his face.
“Go out with me?”
My eyes widen, and I shake my head. “I’m sorry, I can’t,” I whisper.
He frowns slightly, his fingers squeezing my waist before releasing me. “You seeing someone?”
I bite the corner of my bottom lip, unsure of how to answer him. The car honks again, and I know it’s just a regular car, but that horn sounds downright angry.
“Looks like you better get going,” I murmur.
He snorts. “He’s a dick, an impatient one. You think about it, going out with me that is,” he says, reaching into his pocket. He pulls out a card and hands it to me. “My cell’s on there. Give me a call if you change your mind,” he winks.
I watch as he turns and jogs toward the car, slipping into the passenger seat. The car speeds off with a chirp of the tires. I fold the card in half, tossing it into the trashcan before I head toward my father’s office.
All the while thinking that Noah is right though, that other detective seems like a complete grumpy asshole.
GRANT
I spend the entire day pissed off, and not afraid to hide it. We interview the people in Karen Thomas’ circle, trying to find out any information about her whereabouts. So far, nothing has pointed us to Karen being kidnapped, but in the same regard nothing has pointed to her not being kidnapped either.
Her house looks empty, and there doesn’t seem to be any signs of struggle apparent as I walk around and look through the windows.
“We need in that house,” I grumble.
Noah grunts. “Warrant. I mean, we could easily come up with probable cause, but if she’s really playing games, she’ll get an attorney to dismiss anything we find,” he explains.
I nod in agreement. If this bitch is as cunning as we think she is, then yeah, she’ll definitely have an attorney on retainer.
“I’ll go talk to the judge,” he announces.
Lifting my chin, I tell him that I’ll write up the interview reports while he does that, and we take off toward the station.
What I don’t do is ask him what he said to Elise or ask him what he handed her from his pocket. I already know it was his card. He does it often, hits on women and then gives them his card. He uses his status to get laid, which I find fucking appalling.
Once we go our separate ways, I spend my afternoon writing reports and trying to figure out if Griffin has anyone watching Elise tonight.
“You find Thomas’ ex?” Griffin asks walking up to my desk. I smirk, knowing that this is the perfect opportunity to find out about Elise.
I shake my head. “Can’t gauge one way or another if she’s missing or hiding. Got Field’s getting a search warrant from a judge, so we can get in her house,” I explain.
He nods. “Smart thinking, leaving nothing to chance,” he murmurs.
“Everything going well with your daughter?” I ask attempting to sound as nonchalant as possible.
Griffin smiles slowly and lifts his chin. “Yeah, took the detail off of her, at her request and things have improved. We’ll see if I have to add that back on, but I put that locater app on her phone, so at least I can check up on her when need be. It was my compromise,” he shrugs.
I try hard not to smile, too big, at least. We shoot the shit for a few more minutes, but in my mind the only thing I can think about is what I’m going to do tonight. Which is sink my cock inside of my woman.
CHAPTER NINE
ELISE
I feel something warm and wet against my center. I arch my back, pressing myself closer, it feels absolutely amazing. My legs are spread wider by big, warm, hands and I moan. This is the best dream I’ve ever had, it’s so real feeling.
My eyes flitter open and I can see Grant’s dark hair between my thighs, as if he were really here. His warm tongue flicks my clit and I let out a whimper at the sensation.
Reaching down, I know that I’ll wake up as soon as I try to touch him. I need to at least try to feel his hair. I’m too intrigued, too mesmerized by the dark strands.
Once my fingers touch his hair, he stops, lifting his head, his eyes meeting mine. I gasp as he grins. It’s real, he’s here, his face is buried between my thighs, and this is all real.
“Grant?” I rasp.
He chuckles, placing a kiss against my clit before he slowly moves up my body. He’s completely naked, his dark green eyes focused on mine, and he grunts as soon as the head of his cock presses against my center.
“Hold your legs open wide, little doll,” he growls as he slowly pushes his cock inside of me.
I moan, my head falling back against my sheets as my eyes slide closed. He fills me, stretches me to the point of pain, but I love it—I absolutely fucking love it.
Letting my hand fall from the top of his head, I wrap one around the back of his neck and the other around his thick bicep. He shifts, moving his hands to the inside of my thighs, and forces my legs open wider.
I feel a burn of pain against my inner thighs at the way he’s stretching me open, but I also feel helpless and my pussy flutters, enjoying the overall sensation. If I’m going to be helpless to anyone, it’s definitely going to be my midnight intruder.
“I saw you with that cop,” he growls above me.
Grant pulls out, before he slams inside of me, so hard that he fucks the breath right out of my body. I bite the corner of my lip, my eyes flying open to look up at him as he grinds down against my clit.
“What cop,” I practically moan. Trying to pretend that I have no clue what he’s referring to.
He grunts. “You let him touch your waist, my waist. He give you his number?” he demands.
He repeats his move, pulling out then pounding into my pussy so hard that I actually move up the bed a bit.
Grant doesn’t appreciate my smart assed attitude. I know it when he roars, and he fucks me harder. He doesn’t say anything else as he slams into my body. His eyes have me frozen, and his hands have me pinned into place.
His cock works me, his hips slamming against me and I know I’ll have a hard time walking tomorrow. I’m going to be sore as hell.
I should probably be scared, but I’m not, I’m turned on. Watching him lose control, feeling it throughout my entire body is amazing.
My pussy is so wet that I can hear our bodies making noise with each thrust of his hips. It should embarrass me, but instead I find that it sounds sexy as shit, and I wish it were louder.
“My little doll, likes it rough,” Grant murmurs, almost to himself breathlessly as he continues with his punishing pace and strength.
I squeeze the back of his neck, digging my nails into his flesh as my response. “Fuck,” he hisses as he fucks me even harder.
I didn’t know it was possible for him to be rougher with me, but as his hands squeeze the inside of my flesh and he pushes my legs down more, I lose control as I come.
My pussy clenches around him, but he doesn’t pause his movements for even a second. He doesn’t hesitate as he continues pounding into my body.
My orgasm feels like it's never going to end, it’s drawn out with each down stroke of his pelvis against my clit.
“Oh God, it hurts,” I moan, licking my bottom lip.
Grant leans forward, sweat dripping down his face and neck. “You like it, little doll,” he rasps against my lips. “You fucking love it when I make you hurt.”
