by Hamel, B. B.
Plus, working out helped me think.
There were so many possibilities in the case. They all swirled around my mind constantly, flitting this way and that. I wanted to be clear, totally clear, and I needed to be if I was going to figure anything out.
Unfortunately, Laney kept jutting into my mind.
The way she had looked when I’d told her that we weren’t working together anymore kept jabbing me in the chest. I hated that I hurt her, that I had to push her away, but I hoped she’d understand it one day. I hoped she’d understand that at the moment, I was the most dangerous person in all of Mishawaka. Just being around me could mean death.
Maybe I should have run away, moved to a different state, but that wouldn’t have stopped the killings. Frankly, I figured Susan and Alan were both in danger, and Laney would be too. The best thing I could do for them was to solve the case, and solve it fast.
But fucking Laney. Remembering the way she moaned as she slid down my cock just made me rock hard. I finished my set and sat back against the couch, breathing deeply. I could feel my cock begin to stir as everything about that afternoon in the car came back to me.
The way she whispered in my ear. The way she begged for it. Her lips sucking me off. It was impossible not to think about her, not when she drove me so completely fucking crazy.
I clenched my jaw and went back to work. I had nothing to do that day except clear my mind. Later, once I felt like I could finally concentrate on my work, I’d throw myself into the case. First, though, I needed to do my little ritual.
Tire out the body so the mind could take over.
Hours slipped past that way. I would work out, take a short rest to watch the news, and then go back to it. Over and over again.
By the end, the sun had dipped down below the horizon and I was completely exhausted. It felt pretty good to be totally and absolutely wiped.
I stood up and stretched, looking up at the basement window. Shadows stretched across the yard and the sky was a deep, blood red.
“Easton.”
I looked up at the steps. Laney was standing there, looking down at me.
“What can I do for you?”
She bit her lip at my tone. I felt a short stab of regret but shoved it aside. I had to keep my mind right.
“I think I found something.”
I raised my eyebrow. “I thought I told you we weren’t working together anymore.”
“I know what you said,” she snapped, “but I don’t always listen.”
I sighed, sitting down and running a towel over my body. I caught her staring, but I refused to let myself understand what that meant.
“I don’t have time for this, Laney.”
She made a face. “Look, I get it. You’re this big asshole who is going to save everyone. But I think I noticed something important.”
She came down the steps, holding the case file. I stood up, suddenly annoyed. “Did you take that from my room?”
“Yeah, I did.”
“That’s not yours to touch.”
“Too bad.” She sat down on the couch and flipped open the cover. “Look at this.”
She began to take out crime scene pictures. Each photo was of a hand, the fingers missing in the usual way. She spread them all out on the ground in front of her.
“Hands,” I said.
“Be quiet for a second,” she said. I tried not to smile, but I didn’t say anything. “These are all of the original murders,” she went on. “I saw that the police never released this one small detail, that the pinky on the left hand was only ever clipped down to the second knuckle while the other fingers were all removed completely.”
I nodded. “Yeah, I remember that. They wanted to be able to verify it if we ever caught the guy.”
“You also said that you weren’t sure if we were dealing with someone who had actually worked with Seed or if we were dealing with a copycat, right?”
“That’s what I’m trying to figure out now.”
She stared at me for a second. “Don’t you see? Only the people most intimate with the killings would know this: the killer himself, plus the four other agents that worked on this file, including yourself.
I cocked my head at her, frowning. Her large eyes stared back at me, her face serious, her breath coming deeply. I felt my cock getting hard as I remembered those tits in my face, her body slamming down onto me.
And then it hit me. Of course. If the new murders had hands just like the old murders, then we could conclude that someone with inside information was doing the killings.
I looked at her for a long time. I knew I had reason to be impressed with her, but she had seen something so obvious that I had overlooked.
“You’re right,” I said simply.
Her face broke out into a proud grin. “Really? This is important?”
I nodded. “I need to call the sheriff.”
“Holy shit, Easton!”
I couldn’t help but smile back. She stood up, scattering the pictures across the floor, and threw her arms around me. She crushed her body against mine, hugging me tightly.
I felt a rush of excitement run through me as she pressed herself close, and I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her close. In that moment, I realized how close to everything I had become. I was so willing to push every single person away, but for what? Laney wanted to help, and she was good at it. Plus, she was in danger no matter what I did.
I pulled back and looked at her. “About earlier—”
“Unless you’re about to apologize, I don’t want to hear it.”
I grinned at her. “I don’t apologize.”
“That seems like a bad rule.”
I reached behind her and cupped her ass, pressing my crotch harder against her. “We work pretty good together.”
“That doesn’t sound like ‘I’m sorry, Laney; you were right, Laney.’”
“I said you were right.”
“True. You’re so close then.”
That teasing smile on her face was only driving me crazier. Despite having worked my body to exhaustion all day long, I was still rock hard for her, my cock straining against my workout shorts. I knew what I wanted: the only thing that could possibly clear my head.
I kissed her, pressing my mouth against hers. She let out a soft moan as my hands grabbed her ass, pulling her against me tighter. She returned my kiss, wrapping her arms around me.
I’d fucked up when I’d pushed her away. I’d fucked up when I’d thought I could take everything on myself.
But I wasn’t going to fuck up now.
Chapter Nineteen: Laney
Easton kissed me rough and hard, a hunger in him that surprised me.
I let out a soft moan as I felt his hard cock through his shorts, and that surprised me too.
“This is a weird way to apologize,” I whispered to him as he lifted my shirt over my head.
“I’m not apologizing,” he responded, pulling his own shirt off. “But I am going to get your fucking pussy off.”
“Easton,” I said, but he was already kissing my neck.
I couldn’t help myself. I reached down and grasped his hard dick, stroking him through his thin shorts, working his shaft. He unhooked my bra and I let it drop to the floor. He began to gently feel my breasts, my back, my skin. I loved the feeling of his hard cock in my hands and the soft grunts he made as I worked him.
He reached down and unzipped my pants, dropping down to his knees. I giggled as he pulled them off me, tossing them aside. He grabbed my ass and pulled me against his mouth as he kissed and licked my pussy over my panties.
“Careful,” I said, biting my lip. “You’ll ruin them.”
“They taste ruined already.”
He pulled them down off my ass and I ran my fingers through his hair. He began to nibble at my clit again, gently licking and sucking. He spread my legs a bit wider and grabbed my ass, pressing me harder against his mouth.
“Oh shit, Easton,” I moaned. “Holy shit t
hat feels good.”
“Knowing how to work a pussy means I never have to say sorry,” he grunted.
I couldn’t help but laugh. I pulled his hair gently, and he responded by licking me harder and slipping a finger deep inside me.
My legs were shaking as he worked me. Suddenly he hooked his arms under my legs and stood up, lifting me into the air.
“Easton!” I gasped, surprised and a little afraid.
He laughed as he gently placed me back down on the couch. I bit my lip, surprised by how easily he could lift me, and a little more than turned on. He resumed licking my clit and sliding a finger in and out of me, pressing against me hard. I spread my legs wider, trying not to moan too loudly.
I looked down at him. His fingers pressed deep inside me and he grinned up at me. “Do you want me to fuck you again, Laney?”
“Yes,” I said immediately.
His did something with his fingers that sent my body into convulsive pleasure. “Are you going to let me come inside that tight pussy?”
“Please,” I moaned, unable to think, unable to move.
He pulled his fingers back and stood. He dropped his shorts and underwear, and I looked up at his hard cock. He walked over to his gym bag and pulled out his wallet, slipping a condom into his hand.
He held it out to me. “Go ahead.”
I got to my knees in front of him and ripped it open. I slowly slid his cock between my lips, taking as much as I could, and then began to roll the condom down his length.
“Ah shit. That’s what I like,” he said.
When I finished, he grabbed my hips and lifted me, turning me around. He pressed me down, putting my knees on the couch and standing behind me. I felt his fingers and mouth begins to eat my pussy out from behind, and I pressed my face into the cushion, moaning loudly.
I felt his fingers move back, and he leaned forward, speaking into my ear. “I love how soaked you are. I love how you show me your pussy, begging me for it.”
I felt him press his hands against my hips and slowly push his cock deep between my legs.
I let out a low, deep moan as he filled me up.
“Shit,” he grunted. “Fuck, I love fucking looking at your ass in the air.”
He began to thrust into me, his big cock sliding into my slick pussy. I moaned into the pillow, grabbing it tight against the sweet ache of his cock.
His thrusts got deeper, more insistent, as he grabbed my breasts, teasing my nipples. He pressed deeper into me, and then reached around to rub my clit.
I worked my hips back against him, easing him into a rhythm that worked. I could feel him hitting my spot, his thick cock filling me as he thrust. I loved the slap of our skin as he began to fuck me harder.
His palm whacked down onto my bare ass, and I let out a moan.
“Fucking work that cock, Laney,” he said.
I began to buck my hips back against him, using the couch as leverage.
“Fuck yes,” he grunted. “Ride that dick.”
I worked my ass and back furiously, feeling long waves of desire and pleasure roll through me. I wanted him so badly, and he began to thrust back, his hands strong at my hips.
He reached forward and pulled my hair, tipping my head back. I gasped, trying not to cry out as I felt his lips find my ear.
“You have such a nice, tight cunt,” he whispered.
“Oh god,” I moaned. “Easton, keep fucking me.”
“Are you getting close? You think I’m going to let you come yet?”
“Easton,” I said, half whine and half moan. I was out of my mind with fuck pleasure.
Suddenly he pulled out and wheeled me around, pushing me down onto my back. He kneeled onto the couch in front of me, and I reached up to touch his chest, his abs. I watched as he sank his cock deep between my legs, and I threw my head back to let out a deep moan.
He leaned forward, putting a hand over my mouth.
“Quiet,” he said in my ear. I could hear the laugher in his voice. “Don’t want our parents to hear, do we?”
“Easton, fuck me,” I groaned.
He began to work his hips, his hand over my mouth. I reached up above my head and grabbed the arm of the couch, holding on as he fucked me.
I rolled my hips, grinding myself against him as his cock thrust deep inside me. He looked me in the eyes as he fucked me, his hand over my mouth. I moaned into his hand with wild abandon, losing myself completely in his smell, his body.
I could feel my orgasm coming on heavy and hard. I bit down on his finger and he grunted with pain.
“Be nice,” he growled as he fucked me harder, rougher.
“I’m close,” I said.
“Come on this fat cock then,” he grunted. He began to fuck me rough, deep, and hard, and I tipped my head back, letting the pleasure wash over me.
And then the orgasm hit, convulsive and incredible. Each new thrust of his sent shocks down my spine, making my muscles contract. My mind went blank with total pleasure, entirely and completely free.
Slowly it ebbed and began to slide away. He smiled down at me. “That’s good,” he said. “And now it’s my turn.”
I nodded, breathing deeply, my heart pounding. He moved back onto his knees and held my legs up, slamming his cock even deeper inside me.
“Oh fuck, Easton,” I gasped.
He fucked me rough and without mercy. I loved it, loved the sweat dripping down our bodies, loved the serious look on his face as he looked at my tits, my lips, my face.
“Come on,” I moaned. “Fill my pussy. Fuck me deep.”
“You want me to fill you up?”
“Fill me, Easton. Fuck my pussy.”
“I want you to swallow this load. I want you to swallow my cum.”
“Whatever you want. I’ll do whatever you want.”
“Fuck, girl,” he groaned. “I love hearing those words.”
“Come whenever you want. I’m yours.”
“Shit,” he gasped. He kept slamming into me, thrusting deep and hard, his whole muscular body taught with anticipation.
And then he pulled out, tearing off the condom. I moved toward him as he brought his cock into my mouth.
He thrust once, twice, and then his hot cum filled my throat.
“Oh my god,” he groaned, orgasming hard. I sucked him, working him as he came in my mouth.
I swallowed every single drop.
Slowly, his orgasm subsided, and he collapsed onto the floor.
I slid off the couch and curled up next to him. I loved the feeling of our naked, sweat-drenched bodies together.
There was nothing else in that moment but me and him. I forgot all about the murders, the danger, the anger, and the pain.
There was just us.
I didn’t know what we were, but I knew I wanted more of it.
Chapter Twenty: Easton
The woods were lovely, dark, and deep as I wound my way up along the same dirt road from the day before. Visions of Laney’s delicious body danced in my head as I pulled up to the clearing where I first saw the body of Luisa Suarez.
I’d spent the day getting in touch with Sheriff Sloan, which was a surprisingly difficult thing to do. Then again, he was a small town sheriff with some huge murder cases on his docket, and he was probably busier than he’d ever been in his whole life.
Meanwhile, I was in and out of bed with Laney. Since our parents both had to go to work, we were free to roam the house, to explore each other as much as we wanted. Twenty-four hours of fucking pleasure and sweaty sex meant I was cleaned out and clear-headed in a way I hadn’t expected.
I thought she was a distraction. I thought she was something I needed to get beyond, to get past, if I was going to do my job. But I was beginning to see that Laney was so much more than that.
I parked my car and climbed out. Sloan’s truck was a few feet away, and as soon as I got out, he opened his door.
“Easton,” he said.
“Sloan.”
We shook ha
nds.
“Why the fuck am I out here?” he asked.
“I wanted to talk to you about Luisa Suarez.”
“I figured.” He gave me a serious look. “It’s dark and I’ve had a long day, so let’s make this fast.”
“Did you bring what I asked?”
He nodded. “All the pictures you could possibly want.” He held out a manila folder.
I took it from him. “Come on.”
I walked off toward the tree where Luisa was found, Sloan in tow. We stopped in front of the spot and stared in silence together. Without the body, it was just another tree standing in a small clearing. There was nothing significant about it, not since the scene had been cleared by forensics.
But we both knew that only two days earlier, it had been the spot of a grisly, gruesome murder. It still held weight, almost as if the residue of the horrible crime still hung thick in the air.
I opened the folder and began to page through the pictures. I stopped when I found what I was looking for.
“Remember this?” I asked Sloan, holding up the photo.
“Of course. We still have no clue what ‘TON’ means, though we have some theories.”
I nodded. “I know what it means.”
He raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms. “You could have told me over the phone instead of bringing me out here, son.”
“No. I needed you to see. Otherwise I’m not sure you’d believe me.”
“Okay then. Go on.”
I took a deep breath, not sure if I was doing the right thing or not. “Which way was Luisa’s body facing?” I asked him.
He pointed. “That way. Her back was up against this tree.”
“Right. And which direction is that?”
He thought for a second. “East, more or less.”
“Right. Luisa was facing east, and this sign said ‘TON.’ Sheriff, I think this was a message for me.”
He looked at me silently for a minute, maybe more. “So you think the killer was spelling your name.”
I nodded. “It was just obvious enough for me to find it, but not too obvious for someone else to notice.”
