Going After What’s Mine

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Going After What’s Mine Page 5

by Parker, Weston


  Rose was shaking her head. “Liar. You want him. I know it.”

  With an innocent wink, I walked away. I was certainly warming to the idea of having a little fun with my gorgeous neighbor. We were both adults after all.

  Chapter 7

  Colton

  Abby had this grand idea I knew how to cook. The poor girl had been exposed to very little of my cooking experience.

  She thought mac and cheese was a real dinner. When I sliced up hotdogs and tossed them in, she was convinced I had invented the best tasting food in the world. While I appreciated her sweet praise, it was sorely misplaced.

  Shaking my head, I added a little more seasoning to the steaks and put them back in the fridge to marinate until Jenna showed up.

  The sound of the doorbell caused a weird response in my gut. I was nervous. Why in the hell was I nervous? I had been with women since Cara. Not a lot, but I wasn’t a monk. There was no reason to be on edge around Jenna.

  Taking a deep breath, I opened the door, hoping I appeared more casual than I felt.

  “Hi,” she said, thrusting a plate of cookies at me. “Homemade this time.”

  I took the plate. “Thank you. Come in, please.”

  Abby came running down the hallway, grinning as she waved one of her dolls in front of her. “See! Look!”

  Jenna bent over to inspect the doll while I inspected her ass. She looked back, caught me looking, and smiled. I stared back at her, not caring that she had busted me. I left her and Abby in the living room, eavesdropping from the kitchen as I dumped a bag of salad mix into a bowl.

  It wasn’t long before Jenna came into the kitchen. “Can I help with anything?”

  I slowly shook my head, my eyes moving over her body, currently clad in a tiny black T-shirt and a pair of cut-off jean shorts that were way too tiny to be legal in my opinion. My eyes trailed down her long slender legs before noticing the bright red nail polish on her toes. When I finally looked up at her, I felt a rush of heat.

  It had been a while, I told myself. That was why I was so turned on by her. She was an attractive woman and I needed to get laid.

  Clearing my throat, I mentally snapped myself to attention. “No, thank you. I have a couple steaks in the fridge and some baked potatoes in the oven. I’ll put the steaks on the grill now if that’s okay with you.”

  “Great,” she said, her smile drawing my attention to her mouth.

  “There’s cold beer in the fridge. I didn’t buy wine. I’m sorry.”

  She laughed. “You’re in Nebraska. Girls like me were raised on cheap beer out of warm kegs. I’d love a beer—a cold one at that.”

  That was a relief. I didn’t know why I cared though. I guessed I wanted to see if she really was that small-town, down-home kind of girl.

  She popped the top on one of the bottles and handed it to me. “Thank you.”

  Doing the same for her own, she took a drink. I immediately relaxed a little. This wasn’t going to be so bad. With her keeping me company, we headed to the back patio. I grilled the steaks while Abby ran in and out of the house again and again, showing Jenna various dolls and an assortment of doll clothes.

  “Thank you for being patient with her,” I said when Abby ran back inside again.

  “It’s okay. She’s fun to be around. God knows I wish I had her energy.”

  I laughed, a sound that felt weird coming out of my mouth. “She is a handful.”

  “These are done,” I said, pulling the steaks from the grill.

  The three of us sat inside, eating our meal, chatting about nothing in particular. It was strange to be sitting at the table with my daughter and a woman. A woman I was insanely attracted to.

  “I’m done,” Abby announced, pushing away from the table.

  “Okay. You can go play for a bit and then it’s time for a bath.”

  She was down the hall in a flash. Jenna stood, collecting Abby’s plate as well as her own and carrying it to the kitchen.

  “You don’t need to clean up,” I said, following her into the kitchen.

  “It’s the least I can do since you fed me—again.”

  “Want another beer?” I asked, opening the fridge to grab one for myself.

  “You trying to get me drunk?”

  I grinned, twisting the cap and handing her the open bottle. “Maybe.”

  “I see right through you, mister.”

  “Baby, please, I wouldn’t need to get you drunk,” I said, taking a step toward her.

  She didn’t back up. Instead, she held her ground and looked up at me, daring me to make a move. My eyes focused on her for several seconds as I thought about it. I couldn’t. Not with Abby down the hall and wide awake.

  She smirked. “Maybe it’s me trying to get you drunk,” she said with a cheeky smile before heading back to the table to carry in the salad bowl.

  “So, tell me about that degree you were going to school for,” I said, wanting to learn more about her.

  She shrugged. “Basically, it would involve me looking at a crime and trying to get into a person’s mind.”

  “Isn’t that a little dark?”

  “I don’t look at it like that. There is all this forensic stuff that helps investigators, but sometimes, they never get close to the bad guy because they can’t think like him or her. I like the idea of knowing why. What drives a person to do what they do.”

  “How much time did you have into it?” I asked.

  She let out a sigh. “I had just started my senior year. I was halfway through the first semester when my mom called to tell me my dad had a stroke. I came home to be with her, assuming I would go back in a week or so. Unfortunately, my dad’s stroke was severe. He was left in almost a vegetative state. Two years ago, he got pneumonia. He died within a couple days.”

  “I’m sorry. That’s harsh. Why haven’t you gone back to school?”

  “I didn’t want to leave my mom. She was having a really hard time.”

  Abby reappeared. “Time for a bath.”

  “I should get going,” Jenna said.

  “No,” I blurted out, surprising myself and her. “Stay. This will only take a minute.”

  “Are you sure? I don’t want to intrude.”

  “I’m sure.”

  “I’ll finish cleaning up in here,” she said.

  I nodded and left her to it while I took care of Abby. It took about thirty minutes to get her bathed and tucked into bed. When I returned to the kitchen, she was closing the dishwasher. The kitchen and dining room were clean.

  “Thank you,” I said, grabbing a couple more beers out of the fridge.

  We went into the living room and sat down, both of us at a respectable distance apart on the couch.

  “So, I’ve told you my life story. It’s your turn.”

  I chuckled, leaning back against the couch. “Well, I grew up in Boston. Went into the Marines the day I graduated high school. Did my four years and decided it wasn’t for me. Went home and missed the competition so I started doing the MMA thing.”

  She nodded her head. If she noticed I was glossing over bits and pieces of my life, she didn’t say it. I wasn’t quite ready to delve into my wife and her death.

  “What brings you here?” she asked. The question I couldn’t answer.

  I shrugged a shoulder, taking a long drink from the bottle, buying some time. “I wanted a change. A chance to show Abby what life was like away from the city.”

  “This is a great place to grow up. I love it here.”

  “When you finish your degree, will you stay?” I asked, not really knowing why I cared about her future plans.

  She smiled. “Well, Beatrice is a great place to raise a family because there is very little crime. But I have a feeling I would be very bored, if the police force could even afford to hire a criminal psychologist in the first place.”

  “So, you’re going to move to the city?”

  “I don’t know.”

  By now, she was almost finished with he
r beer. I got up to get another for myself, handing her one as well. I knew she had to be getting buzzed. I could feel a little one myself and I had to be twice her weight. When I sat back down, I sat a little closer to her.

  Her eyes dropped to my lips. It was all wrong. I knew it was. I couldn’t get messed up with a woman.

  Despite knowing what I should do, my body disagreed. I felt myself reaching for her, my hand moving to her long hair, pushing it back over her shoulder. She was watching me without saying a word. I leaned forward, my hand moving to the back of her neck and pulling her closer to me.

  My lips touched hers, setting off an explosion somewhere in my brain. All my nerve endings jerked awake. I wanted her with a ferocity that was slightly disturbing. I reached out and blindly set my beer down on the coffee table, my mouth still moving over hers.

  I slid a little closer, wanting more contact with her body. My hand slid over her thigh. The little moan that escaped her lips triggered another feral response. I had to slow things down. I leaned back and opened my eyes to look into hers.

  “We shouldn’t do this,” she whispered, her hand moving over my arm, her actions the complete opposite of her words. “I don’t even know you.”

  I smirked, giving her a quick kiss on the lips. “I want to get to know you. All of you. Every delicious square inch of your hot body.”

  She shuddered under my hand. I took the beer she was still clutching and set it on the table next to mine.

  “But—”

  I leaned forward, my body pressing against hers, my mouth closing over hers, my tongue forcing her lips apart. Her body naturally leaned backward, arching against mine. I was losing the very thin grasp I had on my self-control.

  “I want you,” I whispered, pulling away a couple inches as I moved my mouth over her neck. “I’ve wanted to touch you since the first time I saw you. Your ass in those jeans.” I groaned, my dick growing harder at the image burned into my brain. “I want you naked and wanting, dripping wet. I want to make you come while you’re screaming my name.”

  Her hands moved up my arms and then down my back. I didn’t have to ask. I could feel her need, her want as her fingertips pressed into my back.

  I was sure I’d regret it all in the morning, but for right now, I was going to enjoy every minute of the ride.

  Chapter 8

  Jenna

  I should be putting a stop to it. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew that. But I couldn’t. My body was demanding more of his touch. His words were making me hot. I groaned as his mouth pressed against mine, his tongue swooping in and stirring up a fire low in my belly. His body felt huge as he pushed against me, completely covering me. The damn clothes were in my way and driving me nuts. I needed to feel his skin against mine.

  “Shirt,” I muttered the word out loud, one of my broken thoughts uttered unintentionally.

  Thankfully, he understood and quickly yanked his off before attacking mine.

  “Oh God,” I moaned when his crinkly chest hairs rubbed against my chest.

  His hand was behind me, working my bra before ripping it from my body.

  “Fuck, I knew they would be perfect,” he muttered, pulling away and looking down at my bare chest. “We need to go to my room.”

  I nodded in agreement. He stood, then grabbed my shirt and bra before taking my hand and leading me down the hall. This was my chance. I could tell him no. I could stop right where I was and walk out the front door.

  Nope. Not going to happen. I wanted this man and it had nothing to do with the alcohol coursing through my body.

  “Shh,” he whispered as we passed a closed door.

  I hadn’t actually said anything, but I knew what he was getting at. I followed him into his room. He turned, then very slowly and quietly closed his bedroom door. When he flipped the light on, I gasped, feeling very exposed.

  I immediately covered my chest with my arm.

  He shook his head. “No way. I want to see this.”

  His hand reached out and pulled my arm away. I let my arm drop, and my shirt and bra slid out of his hand and onto the floor while he stared at my bare breasts. I took the time to stare at his chest as well, appreciating the artwork tattooed there. A small set of baby footprints was over his heart with a date above it. It was the sweetest thing I had ever seen.

  He stepped toward me, his hand reaching out to touch my breast, his thumb brushing over my nipple, sending a shiver of pure, white-hot ecstasy down my spine.

  “Take off those shorts,” he whispered.

  I looked down at the shorts as if I didn’t know what he was talking about. My hands moved to the button before unzipping them and letting them fall down my legs. I stepped out and used my foot to kick them to the side. His hands moved down my ribcage, his thumbs hooking the tiny lace straps of my thong before he slowly pulled it down.

  I shivered in anticipation. The way he was moving so slowly and purposefully was turning me on. He slid the panties down slowly, as if unwrapping a gift. I heard him suck in a breath when the panties dropped to my knees, exposing my most intimate area.

  “This,” he whispered, his hand reaching out to caress between my legs. “This is what I need.”

  Somewhere in the back of my mind, I was thanking Rose for pushing me into that little trip to the salon to tidy things up. I hadn’t expected anyone to actually see the area, but I was glad Colton was impressed.

  His mouth closed over mine once again as his hand cupped me between my legs, my panties still hanging around my knees. One of his long fingers slid over my crevice, drawing a moan from my lips. I pressed my tits against his chest, loving the way the coarse hairs rubbed over my sensitive nipples.

  When he pulled away from my mouth, I gasped, missing the contact. He dropped to his knees in front of me, shocking the hell out of me. His face was lined up with my bare crotch. Before I got the chance to feel nervous, he kissed my pelvis before moving farther down. One hand slid between my thighs, edging them apart. The panties around my knees were now being stretched but keeping my legs from opening any wider. With his index finger, he parted my folds before using his tongue to lap at me.

  “Oh God,” I cried.

  He shushed me, his lips moving against my pussy, the sound sending delicious vibrations over me. I moaned, my head dropping back and my hair tickling my lower back as it hung free and loose.

  His tongue was driving me over the edge. His teeth scraped across my clit before his tongue pushed inside me.

  “I can’t,” I whispered.

  “You can,” he said, the words spoken into my pussy.

  My legs felt weak. I just knew I was going to fall on top of him. “Colton,” I groaned, knowing I was about to explode.

  His response was to push his index finger inside me while suckling the hard, overly sensitive nub. I crumbled as the orgasm washed over me in juicy wet waves. I felt his arms around my waist, lowering me to the floor of his bedroom. I was gasping as my body tightened into a ball of contracted muscles with the powerful climax.

  He crawled over me, kissing a trail up my stomach, over my breasts, and finally my mouth. His jeans were rubbing against my skin that felt raw.

  “You taste so sweet,” he murmured against my neck.

  “Your jeans,” I muttered, my brain refusing to work at forming complete sentences.

  “Slow down,” he whispered. “We have all night.”

  I rolled my head back and forth. He had provoked some wild beast inside me. I needed him more than ever. With a strength that surprised me, I forced him away from me, throwing him to the floor and crawling my naked ass on top of him.

  “Jeans, now,” I demanded.

  He grinned. “I like a woman who knows what she wants.”

  My hands reached down to work at the buttons, not interested in talking. I wanted to feel his cock in my hand. I needed him inside me.

  “Stop,” he commanded, and my hands froze.

  I looked up to meet his eyes, begging him not to leave
me aching with need.

  “Roll over.”

  I stared at him, not sure I knew what he was saying. He decided to show me, grabbing me around the waist and easily lifting me from his body and depositing me on the floor next to him.

  I watched as he got to his feet and stripped off his jeans. When his cock sprang free, I was wet all over again. He was perfect. I reached up, grabbing him with my hand and brushing my thumb over the head of his satiny smooth cock.

  “Get up,” he growled, reaching down to help me get to my feet. “I don’t want rug burns.”

  I happily climbed up, pressing my body against his. He was hard all over. I felt like a cat, purring and rubbing my body against his. I heard him growl a second before his mouth closed over mine. He was walking me backward, my body hitting his tall dresser, sending bottles toppling.

  He kept kissing and pressing against me until I felt my butt hit the wall. His hands reached down and grabbed mine, lifting my arms and pinning them to the wall on either side of my head. His pelvis ground into me while his tongue slipped in and out of my mouth. I was pinned to the wall in the best way imaginable.

  One of his hands released mine, dropping between us. A second later, his dick was probing at my entrance. I hiked one leg around his waist, and he slowly pushed inside me, my other hand still pinned to the wall beside me. He drove into me, impaling me against him as he pushed me against the wall.

  “God damn,” he groaned. “I need more.” He grunted, shoving higher inside me.

  My hand went to his back as I tried to get closer to him. His stubbled face rubbed against my neck as he thrust high and deep.

  A frustrated growl tore from his throat before grabbing my ass and yanking me off the floor, both of my legs wrapped around his waist.

  “More!” he growled close to my ear. “I need more.”

  I wanted to give him everything I had. I wanted more of him. My fingernails clawed into his back as I tried to push my body against his. He violently thrust upward, once, twice, and on the third time, I felt as if I was flying. I cried out, quickly pressing my mouth to his neck to muffle the sound of my ecstasy.

 

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