by Lea Kinkade
“What was that all about?” asked Abby.
“Just marking my territory, babe. Evidently, Hernandez still hasn’t gotten the message.”
“He’s just a friend, Dillon. He was nice to me when I was new to town and didn’t know anybody. He taught me how to two-step.”
“Yeah, I’m sure he’s a prince. Poor, lonesome cowboy just talking up a pretty girl. Don’t kid yourself, baby. He wanted you for himself. Still does, from the looks of it.”
“Well, he’s gone now. Didn’t you promise me a dance?”
“I requested our song, baby. It should be up next. Let’s get on the floor.” They made their way onto the dance floor just as “Must Be Doin’ Somethin’ Right” by Billy Currington started playing over the sound system. Abby loved the video to this song. It was so sensual that when Dillon invariably pulled her body close to his, her body reacted viscerally, her nipples beading and her pussy creaming. Going into his arms, Abby felt the answering response from his body straining against her stomach as they pressed their bodies close together, Dillon singing softly in her ear.
* * * *
As Dillon held Abby on the dance floor, he thought back to his encounter with Jaime Hernandez. On the surface, the man seemed just like the image he was trying to portray. Underneath, however, Dillon sensed a lot of enmity from the other man when Dillon had come upon them and interrupted his private conversation with Abby. Hernandez had tried to cover it up, but it was obvious he didn’t like the fact that Abby was now living out at the Ranch with Dillon.
He wondered just what else the younger ranch hand didn’t like about his relationship with Abby. He wondered how far Hernandez would go in his pursuit of Abby. For instance, would he leave a wild rose for a woman as a token of his affection? Would he break into a restricted area in order to leave it for her? Would he call her and then not talk when she answered the phone? Maybe it hadn’t been meant in a menacing way. Maybe the secret admirer was just that shy. Would he call anonymously to the woman of his affection to see if she liked his gift? Maybe, maybe not. It was worth checking out. He looked around the club to see if Rio was still here. Seeing no sign of his friend, he made a mental note to call him in the morning to have him check out Jaime Hernandez.
Not wanting Abby to pick up on his preoccupation with Hernandez, Dillon turned his thoughts to holding his woman close, knowing that they would go home and make love, wake up in the morning, and start all over again. It was good to be him.
* * * *
“Want to take a shower?” Dillon stood behind her with one arm banded around her waist as she brushed her teeth.
“Isn’t that how we started this night?” she teased.
“I want you. Now.” Possessiveness was riding him hard tonight. They hadn’t heard anything from Abby’s secret admirer for a while and Dillon was getting antsy. He needed to make Abby his in the most basic and elemental way possible. He needed to drive his cock into her pussy over and over again until they were both spent and couldn’t move.
“What do you want me to do?”
Hell, he loved it when she asked so sweetly. “Take off this nightgown. Get on the bed. Lay on your stomach. Spread your legs.” His voice was husky with passion.
Abby rinsed her mouth and the toothbrush, putting the toothbrush on the edge of the sink. As she started walking toward the bed, she pulled her baby-doll nightie up and over her head, letting it fall from her fingertips. She lifted one knee and crawled onto the mattress and lay facedown, spreading her legs.
Dillon approached the bed and gathered the pillows to him. Climbing onto the bed with her, he set the pillows down beside her and smoothed his hands over her luscious ass. “Lift your ass in the air. Up on your knees. Keep your legs spread.”
Abby brought her knees up beneath her, keeping her legs spread, and raised her ass off the mattress for him. He slid the piled pillows underneath her abdomen so they acted as a cushion she could rest on. He heard her sigh tremulously. She knew what was coming. Her head was laying on her crossed arms which rested on the mattress.
She was wide open to him this way and he could use his hands, his mouth, or his cock on her. He wanted to take her hard and fast, but he needed to know that her sweet pussy was ready for him. Placing one hand on her back, he trailed his fingers through the short curls protecting her sex. She was damp but he wanted her wetter before he pounded his rock-hard cock into her. He stroked a finger through her folds, ramping up her desire as he let his finger rub across her clit with each pass. She began to moan and shiver with each pass his finger made over her sensitive clit. One touch. Then another, and he could see her climax wash over her as her entire body flushed and shivered in response.
Stroking her drenched pussy again, he knew she was ready to be rode hard. Fisting his engorged shaft, he brought it to her opening and plunged into her to the hilt, his balls slapping against her clit. He held on tightly to her hips as he fucked full tilt into her sweet cunt. There would be bruises tomorrow. Another mark of ownership. Abby had told him that she liked it when she bore his mark.
Pounding into her, he pulled nearly all the way out and then pounded into her again. The bed was shaking and Abby was moaning for him to take her harder. Increasing his pace, he felt her orgasm wash over her body as her inner muscles clenched on his pistoning cock. Another thrust. Then another, and his cum jetted deep into her welcoming pussy. He continued to grind against her until his balls were empty and his cock was sated. Pulling out of her slowly, he pulled her back against his body so that her back was pressed to his chest. He fondled her nipples as he kissed her neck. Moving his hands down her body, he reached for the pillows that had been supporting her body and threw them to the head of the bed. His body followed hers down to the mattress as he nestled his body against hers, spooning her. He reached down with one long arm and pulled the covers over their cooling bodies.
“That was amazing, baby. You’re perfect for me.”
“Shit, Dillon. That was fucktastic. Whatever’s gotten into you tonight, I like it. We need to do it that way more often.” She sounded like she was half-asleep and she was slurring her words. She was asleep almost before she stopped talking.
“We will, baby. We will.” Dillon pulled her even closer and, with one breast cradled in his hand, he drifted off to sleep right behind her.
* * * *
Saturday morning dawned crisp and clear. A perfect day for moving. Abby had awakened to Dillon’s hardened shaft moving gently in and out of her fully aroused body. She often woke to find Dillon fucking her. He was insatiable and liked to start his morning with his cock deep in her pussy. How he managed to arouse her body so much while she was still asleep was a mystery to her, but she loved every second of it. She let herself be swept away into a sweet, tender orgasm as he moved gently over her.
After a quick shower and breakfast, they loaded up the back of his truck with empty boxes and headed into town. She didn’t really have much to move. She had bed linens, towels, and some kitchen items she had bought after she had moved in. The rest were all personal items such as clothing, pictures, a television, stereo, and the like.
They laughed and talked all the way into Deseo. Dillon had been talking about wanting to start building a house on the fifty acres given to him by his parents. Each of the siblings had been given fifty acres of prime land along with enough money to build their dream houses on the Ranch. Dillon had picked a parcel that backed up to the creek and had a small wooded area. It was a couple of miles away from any of his siblings or other buildings on the Ranch. It would be about a ten-minute drive into the clinic offices from the house.
He asked Abby to help him pick out the house plans and the materials to make it. He also put her in charge of decorating the house.
“I want it to be our house, right from the beginning. I wouldn’t be building it if it weren’t for you being in my life.” Dillon looked at her earnestly as he pled his case.
“You sure about this, Dillon? It’s going to be you
r house. What if things don’t work out between us? You might not want tangible reminders of me in your house.” She had really wanted to start that sentence out with a “shit,” but she was making a concerted effort not to swear so much.
Abby really wanted to put her own stamp on this house. She fully intended to be right by his side at the dinner table in that house and wanted it to reflect both their tastes. She just needed to hear his views on the subject. He had mentioned back when they first started dating that he wanted to marry her but they hadn’t really talked about the future recently. When the secret admirer stuff had come up, he switched his talk from marriage to living together. She knew he loved her and that she loved him. She just wanted to hear from him how he saw their future.
“Woman. I told you I wanted to marry you the first night we were together. Nothing has changed for me. I thought if I changed tactics, talked about moving in together instead, I could lull you into a false sense of security and could spring the marriage thing on you at a weak moment. Did it work?”
“I don’t know. Maybe. You’ll have to ask properly to find out.” She wanted him to formally ask her to marry him. The whole down-on-one-knee-with-ring-in-hand thing. She’d give him time to get that all put together.
“Okay, baby. When the time is right, I will. Get your answer ready, Abby.”
They were in the alley outside her apartment getting out of his truck and gathering some of the empty boxes to haul up the stairs when Dillon stopped, staring at the door to her apartment.
“What the fuck? I locked that door myself. Abby, call 911 and have them send Sheriff Decker out here ASAP. Then get back in the truck and lock the doors until he gets here.” He handed her the keys to his truck then reached in the back of his truck for a tire iron, hefting it in his hand like a weapon.
“Shit, Dillon. What are you going to do? Just stay here with me until the sheriff gets here. This is the only door—” She got cut off when the 911 operator came on the phone.
“Emergency Services. What is the nature of your emergency?” asked a disembodied voice on the end of the line
“Oh, uh. My name is Abby Barnes and I live at 1401 1/2 Main Street. It’s the apartment above Bach Florists. My apartment has been broken into and my boyfriend is going to go in and see if the person is still around. He says to send Sheriff Decker. There’s an ongoing case. Dillon, please don’t go in there. Wait for the sheriff.”
“Okay, I’m contacting the sheriff. Ma’am, tell your friend not to go in there. He should wait until the sheriff arrives. Do you have a car nearby?” The woman’s words grabbed Abby’s attention again.
“Yes, a truck.” She was trying to answer the operator’s questions and convince Dillon not to go into that apartment alone at the same time.
“Dillon,” she hissed. The last thing she wanted to do was to broadcast to whoever might be inside that Dillon was about to enter the apartment. “She said you’re not to go in. Get back here.” Shit. She couldn’t bear it if anything happened to him because of her. She had to get him to stay out of that apartment until the sheriff arrived.
“Good. Get in the truck and wait for the sheriff to get there,” instructed the calm voice on the end of the line.
“Dillon won’t come back. He’s almost to the door.” Dillon had stopped on the landing and was listening at the open door intently with the tire iron raised over his head.
Just then, a car came barreling down the alley. It was the sheriff’s car with the lights flashing on top. It came to a screeching stop right in front of the steps to the apartment, and the sheriff and one of his deputies sprang out as soon as it was put in park.
“Dillon. Stand down. My deputy and I will clear the apartment. Come back down and let us do our jobs.” As he was talking, he hustled around the police car and took the stairs two at a time. His deputy followed him, his gun drawn.
“Wait here. Better yet, go give your woman a hug and wait in your truck. Looks like she could use one. We’ll clear the apartment then come back to let you know what we find.” They headed up the stairs, guns drawn.
When Dillon looked back at Abby, she tried to stop the tears that were rolling down her face as she cried softly. He descended the stairs rapidly and she unlocked the door to the truck. He took her in his arms, trying to comfort her.
“It’ll be fine, baby. You’ll see. Everything will be fine.”
“I don’t care about the apartment, Dillon. What the hell did you think you were doing, going up there? Whoever it was could still be there. You could have been seriously hurt or even killed. You idiot. You should have waited for the sheriff.”
It made Abby even more mad that Dillon thought she was crying over her apartment being broken into when, if she had to choose between her things and Dillon, she’d choose Dillon in a heartbeat.
“I’m sorry, baby. I just wanted to catch this asshole if possible. I don’t want you to be scared anymore.”
Just then, the sheriff and his deputy came out of the apartment and descended the steps. Dillon and Abby met them at the bottom of the stairs.
“What did you find?”
“The apartment has been trashed, Abby. And I do mean trashed. Everything’s been torn apart or tipped over or broken. Whoever it was, and I think we can safely assume it’s a stalker based on what was written on the wall, did a lot of damage. I’m glad you’re with Dillon. I hate to think of what might have happened had you been here when this guy showed up.” He turned away to make a call into dispatch asking for the forensics team to be sent out to his location.
“I want to see. Can I go in?” Abby needed to see what the damage was. Not everything in the apartment was hers.
“I’ll take you in, but you can’t touch anything. Here, put these booties on your feet when we get up to the door and put this cap over your hair. I think you need to see this, but we don’t want to destroy any evidence that he might have left behind.”
So Abby and Dillon put the surgery caps over their hair and climbed up the stairs to the door. Putting the paper booties on over their shoes, they entered utter chaos. Nothing in the apartment was untouched. The furniture had all been slashed, the stereo and television had been slammed to the floor, lamps were strewn about, their lightbulbs broken out of them. She could see into the kitchen. All the appliances that had been on the countertop had been savagely slammed to the floor. Even the plates and other glassware had been swept out of the cupboards onto the floor.
“Shit!” Abby couldn’t speak except for that one expletive. She looked around at her things and tears started rolling down her cheeks. Dillon put his arm around her in comfort. “You said ‘he.’ What makes you so sure this wasn’t a bunch of teenagers?” Dillon asked the sheriff.
“Why don’t you to come down to your bedroom, Abby? He left a message for you there. It’s pretty clear it’s your stalker. Be prepared. He trashed that room, too.”
That got through to Abby. “A message? What, like ‘I’m sorry I trashed all your stuff. Will you go out with me?’ Shit! You’ve got to be kidding me.”
Dillon and Abby followed Sheriff Decker down the hallway to her bedroom. The pictures she had hung up down the hallway had been ripped off the walls and smashed. There was glass everywhere. “Remember, don’t touch anything.” The sheriff entered her bedroom and stood aside to let them enter. Abby’s attention was drawn to the mess of the clothing that she had left behind when she had packed last Wednesday that had been tossed around the room. The bed had been slashed with what appeared to be one of her large kitchen knives. The handle was still protruding out of the mattress.
Dillon’s sharp inhalation drew her attention, and she looked at him. Her eyes followed the direction of his gaze as he looked at something on the wall over the dresser. Looking up to where his eyes were drawn, she saw the message that was left for her in black marker.
Bitch
I loved you
How could you do this to us
You belong to me
“Shit!
What does this mean? Who the hell is this guy? Why does he think he’s in love with me, and what is he so upset about?” Abby had moved beyond scared and was fast approaching pissed off.
“Who the hell does this shithead think he is to disrupt my life like this? Trash my home? Ruin all my things? I don’t get it. What did I ever do to him? Why is he fixated on me?” Abby was becoming incensed and wanted answers. Her attention was diverted to the bedroom doorway as Rio walked in, booties and surgical cap in place.
“Shit!” he exclaimed in anger.
“My thoughts exactly. What do we do now?” Her words were directed at Dillon, the sheriff, and Rio.
“Abby, I need you to look around and, without touching anything, see if you can tell if there is anything missing.”
“In this mess? How would I even know? What do you think he might have taken?” Abby was at a loss. This person had destroyed everything he could get his hands on, she couldn’t even identify some of the piles of debris as her belongings.
Dillon took her by the arms and pulled her close. Looking into her eyes, he told her, “Baby, I think the sheriff wants you to pay particular attention to the clothing you left behind, especially your lingerie.”
“My linger…Shit. This pervert is taking my panties now?” She looked incredulously at the men standing around her. Several faces turned various shades of red and they looked away.
“Roy, get pictures of this area here so we can move things around a little and get an idea of what’s been taken.” Sheriff Decker pointed an officer with a camera to the pile of destroyed clothing strewn across the mangled bed. After several shots, the officer gave the sheriff the go-ahead.
Giving Abby a wooden spoon from the kitchen, he directed her to move around the destroyed clothing to take inventory of the items. Abby took the spoon and methodically moved pieces of clothing to the side as she tried to remember what she had left behind when she had packed that night. It quickly became apparent that several pieces of lingerie were missing. A couple of teddies, a diaphanous nightgown, several thongs, and a couple of pairs of panties were all missing from the piles of destroyed clothing. She also thought an old pair of jeans and a blouse of hers were missing, but she couldn’t be sure that she hadn’t thrown both of them out. She didn’t wear either anymore, and tossing them had been on her list of things to do.
