Frey

by Faith Gibson

  To his surprise, a little girl answered it. “Hello,” she said as she looked up at him.

  “Are your parents home?” Dane asked.

  “I don’t have a daddy, but momma’s here with one of her boyfriends.”

  “Amelia, who’s at the door?” a woman’s voice yelled from somewhere inside.

  “Who are you?” the little girl asked.

  Dane should arrest the mother on negligence. He could have taken the girl and been gone. “I’m Detective Abbott,” he told her.

  “He’s a detective,” Amelia yelled back to her mother. Cussing came from down the hall. A woman appeared from somewhere in the back of the small house, buttoning her shirt as she walked.

  “Amelia, can you go to your room, please?” Dane asked the child.

  “This is my room,” she said as she walked over and sat on the floor.

  The mother asked, “What do you want?”

  “Ma’am, I’m looking for Troy Quinn. Is he here?”

  “Nope.”

  “His truck’s in your driveway. Are you sure he isn’t here?”

  “I’m sure. I haven’t seen Troy in a long time.”

  “But Momma, he was here just the other night.”

  “Hush, Amelia. Don’t mind her. She gets confused.”

  “What’s your name, ma’am?” Dane asked the woman, thoroughly disgusted that her little girl slept in the living room and knew the names of the men who came and went.

  “Debbie.”

  “Well, Debbie, I need you to tell me who else is in the house with you.”

  “Just a friend.”

  “I need your friend’s name. Please don’t cause a bigger scene than this already is.” Dane nodded toward Amelia who was drinking it all in.

  “I don’t have to tell you shit, I know my rights.”

  Dane lowered his voice and told her, “Look, Debbie, one call to child services will have you so deep in social workers, you will not be able to entertain your men friends for a long time. Or would you like to come down to the station instead?”

  “George, get out here,” Debbie yelled toward the back of the house.

  A door down the hall opened, and George Novak came into the living room with his t-shirt inside out.

  “George, where is Troy Quinn?” Dane asked him.

  “I haven’t seen him.”

  “But you’re in his truck. Care to explain that?”

  “He needed to borrow my car to go see his momma. Didn’t think his truck would make it that far.”

  Dane thumbed at the truck sitting in the driveway. “His practically new truck wouldn’t make it to New Valdosta, but your piece of shi… junk car would? Try again.” Dane wasn’t used to being around kids. If Kaya was going to have a baby, he’d need to start watching his language.

  “Seriously, I don’t know where he is. He asked me to come over, said he needed to borrow my car. He didn’t come back, so I took his truck.”

  “What do you want with Troy?” Debbie asked.

  “His brother-in-law was beaten pretty badly. We just wanted to make sure Troy knew about it. If you see him, can you pass that along?” Dane lied, but he was looking for a reaction from the two of them. George didn’t flinch. Debbie, however, did. She glanced down at Amelia then back to Dane.

  Dane didn’t want to be obvious, but he memorized the features of both mother and daughter. Amelia didn’t resemble her mother in any way, but had plenty of similarities to the picture he had of Troy Quinn.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Abbi cleared the table and washed the dishes while Matt, Frey, and Jasper played video games. When she was wiping down the counter, she felt Frey’s presence in the room. She glanced over her shoulder to find him leaning against the door frame, watching her. She couldn’t help the smile that formed. The man was absolutely gorgeous, in an intimidating “I can kill you with my bare hands” kind of way.

  “Will you teach me self-defense?” she asked him. She knew she wasn’t strong enough to best someone like him, or even Troy, but she was willing to learn enough to possibly keep her alive.

  “Go change and meet me in the gym,” Frey told her. He had an odd look on his face as he turned away. Abbi went upstairs and searched through the drawers for something to put on. She found a pair of yoga pants and a t-shirt. That should be good enough.

  She padded barefoot into the gym. When she got to the door, she froze in her tracks. Frey was punching a small bag, his fists like fast windmills. He had changed out of his blue jeans and was now wearing a pair of black warm-up pants he’d cut off right above the knee. His legs were massive. His t-shirt was sleeveless, showing off his arms. With each punch, the muscles rippled and bunched. The man was pure perfection. Troy worked out and was fit. Frey was a god. His skin was a golden olive that hinted of an Italian or Greek heritage. The words he’d spoken into the security box at the gate had sounded Italian.

  He caught the bag and stopped its motion. When he turned her way, his eyes drank in her clothing. Her t-shirt wasn’t tight, but it wasn’t loose either. Her pants clung to her legs. Her immediate reaction was to cover herself, but she needed to feel his appreciation for the way she looked. She’d spent too many years hiding her true self behind baggy clothing. Frey cleared his throat. “Come over here.” He met her in the middle of the mat. It was cushiony under Abbi’s feet as she walked toward Frey.

  “I won’t pretend that you’ll be able to defeat someone my size. For the most part, males are just naturally stronger than females. What you need is the element of surprise. I’m going to show you a few moves that will hopefully allow you to get loose when you’re being held certain ways. Our bodies come equipped with internal weapons. Elbows, knees, feet, and head are your best bet for disarming someone.”

  Frey stepped in front of Abbi and put his hands on her shoulders. “In this position, since I’m so much taller than you, it would be hard for you to effectively strike me in the face, but your knee is perfect. If a man grabs your shoulders, use that momentum to raise your knee into his nuts. It might not stop him, but it’ll incapacitate him momentarily. If he bends over grabbing his crotch, bring your knee up again, connecting with his face. When his head pops back, you can strike up with your palm. A good punch to the throat can drop a man as well.

  “If he’s closer to your height, catch him with your elbow.” Frey made a sweeping motion toward Abbi’s face with his arm. Next, he turned her body so she was facing sideways. “If someone grabs your arm, use their body as leverage, twisting into them. Here, grab my arm.” Abbi grabbed Frey’s forearm, and he swung his body into hers, once again striking toward her throat.

  “There’s an acronym women are taught in self-defense classes: SING. Solar Plexus, Instep, Nose, Groin. If your arms are incapacitated, it’s unlikely you’ll be able to use your elbow to hit ‘em in the stomach. You should, however, be able to stomp their foot. Head butt someone in the nose with the back of your head, not the front. You can knock yourself out if you do it the wrong way. The Groin, we’ve already covered.

  “Another effective move is to take out someone’s knee. The whole knee is vulnerable, but if you get in a good strike to the front, you can really incapacitate your attacker, possibly even blow the knee out.” Frey went through the motions of the strikes he described allowing Abbi to practice them on him.

  “What about flipping someone?” Abbi asked. “Can you show me how to do that?”

  “I can, but again, if someone is my size, it will be very hard for you to flip them. Okay, come at me from behind.” When Abbi ran at Frey he used her momentum and flipped her over onto the mat. Instead of allowing her to land hard, he cradled her body. “I want to try,” she told him after about the sixth time of him flipping her.

  Frey shook his head, grinning. “Don’t hurt yourself.” Abbi waited until he was right on her. She grabbed his arm and bent over, allowing his momentum to keep him going. She forgot to let go, and she ended up on top of him. Frey groaned, but Abbi laughed.

It hadn’t been pretty, but she’d flipped him over. Sure she had been expecting him, but she was still proud of herself. She laughed at him, “You let me do that.”

  Frey smiled his beautiful smile and pushed her hair off her face. “Maybe.”

  She realized where she was and froze. Abbi was stretched out on top of his body, from chest to legs. She started to climb off of him, but he grabbed her ass with both hands, pulling their bodies closer. She couldn’t take her eyes off his, even when she felt his cock getting hard. She made the mistake of looking at his mouth. When she did, she remembered his lips on hers.

  Frey moved one hand up her back under her shirt, his fingertips barely brushing over her skin. He grabbed her ponytail with the other hand and used it to pull her face toward his. He raised his head, meeting her halfway. Before she knew what was happening, he flipped her onto her back, his large body covering hers, never breaking the kiss. His cock was nestled between her thighs, and instinctively Abbi wrapped her legs around his hips. One hand snaked around his neck while the other one found its way into his short hair.

  Abbi didn’t know who started moving first, but their lower bodies were slowly grinding against each other. She sank her heels into his thighs, needing more. The shorts he had on did nothing to shield his erection from her. The thin barriers of their clothing only added to the friction. The wrongness of being with another man flew into her brain. Frey slid down her body, raised her t-shirt and bra, exposing her breasts. As soon as his hot mouth latched on to her nipple and began licking and sucking, that thought was chased away by how right they felt together. Abbi arched her back, pushing her breast into Frey’s mouth. He took her nipple between his teeth, biting with just enough pressure to send a current from her chest to her core.

  Her pussy was throbbing, aching. “Frey,” she husked, grabbing his hair in both hands. She didn’t know if she was pushing or pulling. All she knew was she had to have more. “Frey, I need…” Her words were cut off as he slid back up her body to reclaim her mouth. When they needed to breathe, he broke the kiss. His dark eyes were black, full of lust and need. He rocked his cock against her clit.

  The friction was torture, pure and simple. “Frey, please…”

  He lowered his mouth to her jaw, running his tongue along her skin until he reached her ear. “What do you need, Sweetheart? Tell me. I need to hear you say it,” he breathed. Frey took her lobe between his teeth, giving her a nip. He kissed the soft spot under her jaw and placed bites down her neck. “I can’t hold out much longer, Abbi. Tell me what you want.”

  “You. I want you,” she gasped as he scraped his sharp teeth over her skin.

  Frey rose up on his knees and lifted his shirt over his head. If she thought he was beautiful before, seeing his chest bared before her had her ready to lick every inch of this Amazon. Speaking of inches, Frey removed his shorts and his long cock sprang free. The man was huge everywhere. It didn’t scare her though, knowing how gentle he could be. He grabbed the waistband of her yoga pants and slid them down her legs, slowly. His gaze drank in every inch of her skin as it was revealed to him.

  When her pants were off, Frey disappeared between her legs. He raised her knees up, spreading her, exposing her core to him. Frey scraped his teeth along her thigh, biting the tender flesh. “Mmm, Frey…” He bit his way back up her other leg until he reached that spot where she was throbbing, ready. He licked her clit and sucked the sensitive nub. “Oh, god, Frey. Oh, ohhh!” Abbi wouldn’t last long with him sucking her like he was. She grabbed his hair, pulling his mouth to her, needing to come but not wanting to yet.

  Frey lapped at her folds before sliding his tongue back up, focusing on her clit again. He inserted a finger into her slick heat, then two. While his tongue worked its magic on the outside, his fingers found her spot on the inside. He worked in tandem as her body heated to the point of boiling. “Frey… I can’t… Frey, oh god… I’m coming…” Frey sucked her clit hard, and she bucked into his face as she flew apart. He continued rubbing inside while she came, coating his fingers with her juices. When the last shudder left her body, only then did he stop the sweet torment to her clit. He leaned back on his ankles and stuck his fingers in his mouth, sucking them clean. That was the most erotic thing she’d ever seen in her life.

  He eased his way back up her body, kissing her stomach, and stopping at her breasts to give them attention. When he placed his lips on hers, she tasted herself on his tongue. It surprised her how much she liked it. Frey’s cock was sliding against her wet folds, and he pushed up on one elbow to look at her. “Sweetheart, I need you. Please tell me I can have you.”

  There was no way she could deny him. “You can have me,” she whispered against his lips. With one thrust, Frey was seated all the way to the root inside her body. The intensity was too much with his cock being as large as it was. She closed her eyes against the intrusion, holding back the tears that threatened to fall. Instinctively, her body was ready to protest. When he didn’t move, she opened her eyes. The look on his face was a mixture of bliss and worry.

  “Are you okay?” he asked. He was holding still, his thickness filling her.

  “You’re just so big,” Abbi admitted.

  “Relax, Sweetheart.” Frey dipped his head down and kissed her. He licked her bottom lip, waiting for her to open. When she did, he began stroking her tongue with his. He mimicked the motion, moving in and out, slowly, taking the tip of his cock to her entrance then sliding it back in all the way. The discomfort soon changed to pleasure as her body relaxed around him. He rose up on his hands and changed the angle of his movements.

  “Oh…” She was amazed how her body reacted to his. “That feels good. I never…” She didn’t finish her thought, but she never knew sex could feel so incredible. Or that a man could move the way he was. Frey’s movements were slow, sensuous. She bet he would be a good dancer with the way he moved his hips.

  He raised one of her legs and put it over his shoulder. He twisted his body so his shaft hit her clit with each down thrust. He closed his eyes as his head fell back. “Fuck, Sweetheart, you are so fucking tight.” He began grunting with each thrust. “Fucking hell… feels so good…”

  Abbi could feel the pressure building again. “Frey, oh crap… I’m… oh god…” She didn’t know it was possible to have an orgasm during sex, but Frey was making sure she was satisfied, too. Abbi knew in that moment she’d never regret giving her body to him. He already had her heart. He snapped his hips faster, and his grunts became more pronounced. She could feel his body tensing up under her hands as she dug her nails into his skin.

  “Come for me, Abbi. Can you do that? Come with me,” he begged as he searched her eyes, his thrusts coming harder and more sporadic.

  “I’m so close. Oh, god...” And Abbi was coming with him. She kept her eyes on his face. Her core pulsed, squeezing his cock, claiming him. He dropped down, chest to chest, and buried his face in her neck to stifle his yells. Her own sounds were muffled when he caught her cries in his mouth. Frey spilled his seed deep in her body, pumping in and out as his come filled her, mixing with her own orgasm. Frey kissed her neck, her jaw, her lips again. He remained still until neither of their bodies was pulsing. When he slid out, their combined juices ran down her inner thigh.

  When Frey once again found her lips, Abbi felt all the love this man had to give. He rose from the mat and said, “Hold still.” He walked over to a cabinet and removed a white workout towel, his naked body on full display. He gently cleaned her up before sliding her pants back up her legs. As she righted her bra and t-shirt, she raised her butt off the mat so he could get her pants over her hips. He wiped himself and tossed the towel in the dirty receptacle. He put his shorts on but left his shirt off. Frey held his hand out, and Abbi placed hers in it. When she was on her feet, Frey pulled her body to his, taking her right hand in his left. He began humming a tune, and there in the gym, Frey showed Abbi he did, indeed, know how to dance.

  Chapter Thirty-Three