by Ranae Rose
Officer Calder is a four-year veteran of the South Island police force and a graduate of the police science program at South Island Community College. A lifelong South Island resident, he graduated from the police academy at the top of his class and has been in good standing with the department since.
A second officer, Greg Sanders, was also at the scene of the shooting. Neither he nor Officer Calder could be reached for comment.
Both Marissa Brewer and Officer Calder were transported from the scene to the trauma center at South Island Hospital with potentially life threatening injuries but are now in stable condition. Marissa credits Officer Calder, the South Island Rescue Squad and the medical staff at the hospital with her survival of what easily could have been a fatal incidence of domestic violence.
“I was bleeding so badly,” she says, “that every minute counted. Officer Calder got there just in time, and if he hadn’t protected me from any further wounds, I wouldn’t be here. He’s a hero.”
Belle set down the paper. Her heart skipped a beat, and her eyes stung. Blinking, she tore her gaze away from the article.
Mariah was her best friend, but it was still embarrassing to feel tears welling in her eyes for no reason.
No reason besides the fact that Jackson had nearly laid down his life to save a stranger’s, anyway. Seeing the facts in black and white print sent a crack through her heart. She was unbearably proud, and deeply sorry for hurting him.
He was an amazing person – how many people would be willing to do something so fearlessly selfless? Now more than ever, she saw the truth in what Mariah had said about how she’d hurt him by not telling him about the intrusion at her apartment right away.
She’d apologize to him when she got to his place.
He was anything but weak, and she’d make sure he realized she knew that.
* * * * *
Jackson was getting proficient at moving around on his crutches. Navigating the apartment that way was awkward, but it was sweet freedom compared to being stuck on his ass in bed or on the couch. Even if it did chafe his armpits.
Elijah had cooked him some healthy meals he called “recovery food” and packed them into plastic containers. Jackson had just popped one out of the microwave and was sitting at the kitchen table eating when movement out the window caught his eye and he saw Belle pull into the parking lot.
He opened the door before she could get to it with the key he’d given her.
“Hey.” She seemed surprised to see him standing there. “You look like you’re doing better today.”
“Don’t call the press or anything, but I ate dinner sitting at the table.”
Her smile was bright. “How’s your leg feeling?”
“Not too bad.” Compared to how it’d felt a week ago, it was true.
“Good.” She shut the door behind herself, locking the deadbolt and knob.
The sound of the bolt sliding home reminded him of the worries that’d been haunting him ever since he’d gotten home from the hospital. “Everything okay at your place?”
“Yes. My security camera feed has to be the most boring one on the face of the planet.”
“Don’t get complacent – for all we know, whoever was in your place has just been busy or biding their time.” Saying it out loud left a sour taste in his mouth, but it was true. He couldn’t count the number of times he’d broken out in a sweat during the day thinking about it. Whenever she went home at night, he called the department and pestered them to keep an eye on her street.
“Right.”
“Have you considered getting a dog?” he asked. “German Shepherds make great watchdogs and companions. Better than any electronic security system.”
“I’m not allowed to have pets where I live.”
“Maybe your landlord would make an exception, considering what’s been going on.”
She set her purse down on a kitchen counter. “What would I do with a puppy while I was at work?”
“Don’t get a puppy – adopt an adult dog. There are plenty of rescues.”
She turned to face him, her expression skeptical. “I’m taking all the precautions I can, okay? Which reminds me … there’s something I need to say to you.”
She lowered her gaze.
“What?” His heart lurched. Had something else happened? Was there still something she hadn’t told him?
He stood frozen on his crutches, his armpits and leg aching as he braced himself for whatever she was about to say.
CHAPTER 32
“I’m sorry I kept it from you when someone got into my apartment,” Belle said. “I wish I hadn’t.”
Surprise rippled through Jackson. “Why the sudden change of heart?”
She met his eyes. “I wanted to protect you, and that seemed like the only way in my power to do it. But in retrospect, I don’t think it was necessary. I was terrified when I found out you’d been shot, and I guess that clouded my judgment.”
The taste of adrenaline faded from his mouth, and his muscles loosened. “It’s all right, as long as you keep your promise not to hide anything else like that from me. The thought of you being in danger and me not knowing it is worse than anything else.”
She raised her chin. “I’d never break a promise to you.”
“Good.” Finally, it felt as if they were on the same wavelength. He wasn’t sure what he’d done to change her mind over the past week – all he’d done was sit on his ass and pop pills – but he was so relieved, he could feel it in his bones.
She crossed the space between them and surprised him by placing her hands on his chest, then slowly sliding them up to rest on his shoulders.
Heat swept through him, making his skin prickle. It’d been so long since she’d touched him like that, he instantly started to get hard.
Fuck, did he wish they could do it. Not being able to have sex with her was the worst part of his injury. Whenever he looked back on the summer they’d spent indulging whenever they’d felt like it, his mouth watered.
He hadn’t known how good he’d had it, having full use of his body and free rein to explore hers.
“Are you done eating dinner?” Her gaze strayed toward the half-empty plate he’d left on the table.
“Yeah.” He wasn’t hungry any more. At least, not for food.
“I know you’re tired of being stuck in bed, but would you object to spending a little more time there if it was with me?”
His heart plunged, crushing his pride. “Belle, I can’t—”
She wrapped her arms around his neck. “You don’t have to do anything. Come on.”
He breathed a long sigh, releasing tension that throbbed in all his pulse points and concentrated in his groin. Despite the blow to his pride, he was hard as a rock. In the gym shorts he wore, it was painfully obvious.
It’d been more than a week since they’d had sex, and after the way they’d been going at it before the shooting, he felt the effects of the sudden deprivation severely. His balls were like hot stones between his thighs, heavy and uncomfortable.
And she looked so damn good…
“Come on,” she repeated. “All you have to do is relax.”
His gaze was riveted to her lips, and in his mind’s eye, he saw them wrapped around his cock. Her mouth, her hand … anything would be a blessed relief.
A tide of guilt rolled in. What could he give her in return? Not what she wanted – not what he ached to give her – and that stung.
But he couldn’t say no. He felt the need for her deep in his balls, compounding by the second. It physically hurt.
He made his way to the bedroom with speed he hadn’t realized was possible with crutches. Once there, he sank down onto the edge of the bed and tossed them aside.
His left thigh was a mess of bandages that peeked from beneath the hem of his shorts. If he went too long without elevating the leg, the entire thing would swell, down to the foot.
He didn’t give a fuck. All he could think about was the part of him that
was already swollen, hard and aching for Belle’s touch.
She didn’t settle down beside him. Instead, she stood in front of him, her gaze locked with his. And then she grabbed the hem of her shirt and raised it slowly over her head.
He touched the tip of his tongue to the edge of his lip as he watched her strip. He hadn’t expected her to take her clothes off. A quick hand job, a blow job if he was lucky – she didn’t need to be naked for that. But she took off every bit of her clothing, a smile curving her lips.
He groaned when she stood nude in front of him, her entire body on display, from her delicate collarbones to her bare toes. It might as well have been an eternity since he’d seen her naked, and he didn’t know where to look.
The sight of her breasts never failed to make his mouth water. They were round and just the right size to fill the palms of his hands. Whether it was due to the central air or excitement there was no telling, but her nipples were stiff, pink points. He wanted to taste them, to touch them, but instead he sat frozen, his gaze slipping lower.
Her pussy was a sweet bundle of dark hair and tight folds, with the swell of her clit peeking from between them. He’d never wanted to be inside it so bad – his dick throbbed as he stared.
Slowly, he moved his thighs apart so she could step closer. When she did, he placed his hands on her hips and squeezed.
Her skin was so soft, so warm. He was almost close enough to smell it.
She placed a hand on his shoulder and ran her fingertips down his arm. “It’d probably be more comfortable if I sat on the bed with you, on your good side, huh?”
“Probably.” He hardly knew what he was saying. He didn’t care how or where she positioned herself, as long as she touched him.
Her weight made the mattress shift beneath him, and her breath hit his neck. Her lips followed, hot and soft against his skin.
He sighed and placed a hand on her bare thigh.
She reciprocated by pressing her palm against his erection, rubbing the length of it before tucking her fingertips into the waistband of his shorts.
The elastic yielded easily to her touch and the hardness of his body. He wasn’t wearing underwear. It was more of a pain in the ass than it was worth, with his swollen thigh. So it took almost no effort for her to free his stiff cock.
When she wrapped her hand around it, he groaned. His hips moved reflexively, shifting against the bed in an effort to create more friction.
The pain that shot through his leg was like a kick in the balls. It made his mouth and eyes water, and he clenched his teeth to suppress another groan. After that, he resolved not to be stupid and to hold still.
She stroked his dick once, twice and then stopped, her fingers wrapped tight around his balls. The pressure was enough to make him swear, his bliss bleeding out of him in grateful obscenities.
Then she knelt, placing her other hand on his good thigh for support as she pressed her lips against the head of his cock.
He wasn’t sure how comfortable the position was for her, but it didn’t matter – he’d be finished within seconds.
When she opened her mouth and swept her tongue over his tip, he felt ready to explode.
She went all the way to the root, her hair tickling his hip and thigh. Her mouth was a tight sheath, hotter and wetter than he remembered. And the way she played with his balls…
Tension built up inside him, making the muscles in his lower back tense. It quickly spread into the rest of him – his ass, his torso and his legs, making the ache in his thigh flare.
It didn’t matter. He was on the verge of coming deep in her mouth, and that eclipsed everything, even the pain.
She tightened her hold on his balls, rolling them in her palm, and that was fucking it – he couldn’t take anymore. With every bit of self-control he possessed, he resisted the urge to raise his hips and slam into her mouth.
She took him deeper, sucking hard. Wet heat burst out of him and every nerve in his body crackled with pleasure as he came against the back of her tongue.
The muscles in her mouth shifted and tightened around him as she swallowed, milking everything out of him. He swore, buried a hand in her hair and clenched it in a fist as the rest of the world crumbled around him. He wasn’t aware of anything, other than the fact that she was swallowing his cum.
When it ended, he felt as if he’d been hit by a truck.
She slid back, releasing him with a wet pop. He didn’t know whether he wanted to pass out or to do it all over again.
Her hand on his thigh called him back to reality, and his gaze gravitated to her naked body.
Her nipples were still hard and a flush had crept across her chest. Her pussy was wet – he could see the shine of moisture on her lips, peeking pink from beneath her swirl of neatly-trimmed hair.
He slipped a hand between her legs and plunged a finger into her tight heat.
She gasped and a tremor rolled through her hips, making them buck. A second later, she tried to pull away.
He pushed his finger deeper and grabbed her by the upper arm.
She went still, except for on the inside, where her muscles clenched around his finger.
“Where do you think you’re going?” he asked.
“You don’t have to—”
“I want to. I’m dying to feel you come.”
A shudder zipped through her, and he relished the feel. While massaging her inner wall, he rubbed her clit with his free hand.
She was so wet, and getting wetter by the second. Slick sounds kept him hard as he added a second finger, fucking her with his hand. Her clit was so hard it felt like a tiny stone beneath her hot skin.
They’d both gone for way too long without this, but that was over now.
“How’s that feel?” He didn’t need to ask – her body told him the truth – but he wanted to hear her say it.
“Good.” Her voice was a rush of breath.
Satisfaction flooded him, resurrecting a sense of pride that seemed almost alien after the past week.
“Your pussy gets so tight when you come. Can’t wait to feel it around my cock again…” He pushed his fingers deep, feeling for her g-spot. He knew he’d hit it when she sucked in a gasp. Pressing hard, he rubbed, concentrating his effort on that spot and continuing to massage her clit. “For now, I wanna feel it around my fingers.”
She moaned and placed a hand on one of his shoulders. When she squeezed, her nails biting into his skin, he knew he’d pushed her to the edge.
Her pussy drew tight around his knuckles, hitting him with a jolt of longing as he remembered how it felt when it squeezed his cock like that. Damn, how long would they have to wait before they could really fuck again?
The contractions kept coming, arrhythmic pressure that made his dick throb. He waited until he was absolutely sure they were over before pulling out.
His fingers came away wet. He wished the same were true about his dick, but what they’d done had still been deeply gratifying. He wanted to fall back on the bed and lie down, but it wasn’t that simple.
Instead, he sat on the edge, squeezing his eyes shut while waiting for his heart to slow and his cock to soften.
“Are you okay?” Belle asked.
“Better than I’ve been in a week.”
He opened his eyes to see her smiling, her mouth a pink curve between flushed cheeks. He got that constricted feeling in his chest again, beneath his breastbone, and he felt his pulse in every fiber of his being.
Maybe it was the wetness on his fingers or simply the sweet smell of her, but he felt closer to her than he had since those bullets had torn through his body and his life.
“How late are you staying, Belle?”
“Until you get sick of my company.”
“Not gonna happen.” He’d pull her into bed with him and keep her there, if she’d let him. He hated her going home alone to her apartment every night, after what’d happened.
He laid awake every night, worrying until the drugs knocked him ou
t.
“Sure it is – you’re always accusing me of babying you.”
“Doesn’t mean I want you to leave. I hate the thought of you alone at night, Princess.”
“That’s the first time you’ve called me that in a while; you must be getting back to your regular self.”
Fuck, he hoped so.
“Seriously, what’s it gonna take to get you to spend the night?”
She gave him a sober look. “I can’t do that – not with your wounds so fresh. I might bump your leg and hurt you.”
He rolled his eyes. “I’m not made of glass.”
He chose not to tell her about the fifteen minutes he’d spent cursing himself and every son of a bitch down his family line, all the way back to Adam, after he’d bumped his left leg on the couch that afternoon.
“I know you’re not.” She touched his shoulder. “You’re made of muscle, but some of those muscles have holes in them. There’s just not enough room in your bed for us both, with the way you have to prop up your leg.”
He frowned. “If I buy a bigger bed, will you stay?”
She laughed, as if he were joking.
He sighed.
“What if I come over to your place? Someone should be there with you after dark. Who knows what kind of sick fuck left you those flowers?”
“You’re supposed to be resting, not playing security guard.”
“Listen, if you’re going to be stubborn…” He pulled his shorts back on, picked his crutches back up and got on his feet – a process that took nearly five minutes. Then he went to his closet and punched in the code on the small fireproof safe he kept on the shelf.
Inside was his spare Glock, the magazine beside it. “Do me a favor?”
“What?”
She removed the gun and magazine from the safe when he asked her to, keeping an eyebrow arched the whole time.
“Do you know how to use this?” he asked.
“Basically, yes. My dad taught me, years ago. I haven’t fired a gun in a long time, though.”
He instructed her on the basics. “Remember, it’s a Glock – there’s no safety. Be careful.”
