One to Keep Google

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One to Keep Google Page 17

by Sophie Oak


  “It’s okay, Stef.” He looked utterly miserable, his composure gone. She hadn’t meant to bring him to that. He needed his control. She wouldn’t take it from him. She should have stayed in Dallas. She would never have come back if she’d known it could hurt him this way.

  “It’s not. It’s never going to be okay.” His hands clenched at his side.

  It would be once she stopped pushing him. He’d been all right before she came around. He’d been all right before she forced her way in. She wouldn’t leave Bliss, but she would respect his needs from here on out. “It will be okay. You’ll see. Give it time.”

  “I’ll never be okay when you cry, love.” He moved forward, but it was jerky, as though he’d lost all grace. His hands came out and hauled her into his arms. “I can’t leave you like this. I don’t even want to. Forgive me.”

  He pulled her close, pressing her against his chest so she was surrounded with him again. This time, though, she could hear his heartbeat, feel the uncertainty in his breath. This time he was here with her in spirit as well as body, utterly and completely.

  She turned her face up, a deep relief in her soul. “I love you.”

  His eyes closed for a brief moment, as though the words had a physical impact on him. “That means the world to me, love. I want so much more for you, though. You deserve to have more.”

  “But I only want you.” It wasn’t true. She wanted more. She wanted a life here with him, and she wanted kids someday in the not-too-distant future. She wanted what she’d never had—roots. It all started with him. He was her foundation. His strong, giving heart was everything she’d ever wanted in a man.

  “I know you think you do.” He brushed his lips against hers. “Can we not fight about this now? I want to erase the last couple of minutes. I want to take care of you.” His hands trailed down to the globes of her ass, cupping her, pressing her against his core where his cock was stiff and full again. “Let me take care of you.”

  “Yes.” She wanted him so badly. The weary sadness that had taken her over was shoved aside by rampaging desire. She needed him.

  He took her mouth, plunging his tongue in and dominating her with a singular purpose. His tongue glided against hers in a silky imitation of what she wanted his cock to do. He rubbed his body against hers as though he could imprint himself on her.

  “This is so wrong,” he said.

  “It’s not,” she tried to plead.

  “Not the sex, love.” He chuckled, an open grin on his face as he pulled at the buttons of his shirt, revealing his rock-hard chest. “I’m talking about the fact that my club is going to request that I turn in my leathers. I’m being a terrible Dom.”

  He kicked off his boots hastily and shoved his jeans off. He dropped them and left them on the floor in his hurry to get back against her. His cock stood straight out, and then it was pressed between them as he hugged her to him.

  “I won’t tell.” She let her hands roam for the first time. His skin was soft over the hard pack of his muscled frame. Only his hands were rough and callused from work. Those hands thrilled her as he explored her body.

  “Yes, you will,” he commanded, and he kissed her neck. “You’ll tell everyone what a big, nasty Dom you have.”

  She hissed as he bent his head and kissed her nipples. He was painstakingly gentle with them. “I will. I’ll tell them how you torment me.”

  He licked at her nipples, sucking on them softly, lighting a fire in her pussy. “I’m wicked with you. I don’t let you get out of line. When you get out of line, I torture you.”

  He was doing exactly that. His fingers split her labia, sinking in and drawing out her juices. He bent over, and his tongue found her clit.

  “Oh, god, yes, you do. You’re cruel. You bring me to the edge again and again. You fill my ass and clamp my breasts and make me pleasure you.”

  He sucked her clit into his mouth as he pressed two fingers high into her pussy. “I make you see to my needs and fill none of yours when you’re a bad sub. I fuck your mouth and spank that ass of yours until it’s a hot pink and you can feel the imprint of my hand on your skin. I tie you up, shove a vibrator up your pussy, and alternate between teasing your G-spot and using a flogger on your pretty backside. You never disobey me again.”

  “Never again.”

  He got up and moved to the chair. He sat down and held out his hand. “Come on, love. Come ride me.”

  Jen caught her breath at the sight of him. He was decadence personified. She took his hand and straddled him, her knees sinking into the plush leather of the big chair. He reached between their bodies, lining his cock up to her pussy.

  “I want to watch.” His head was down. His eyes were fully focused on the place where their bodies met.

  There was her pervy boy. She leaned back slightly so he couldn’t miss the sight of his huge dick invading her pussy. He gripped her cheeks, pulling her down inch by inch. Every centimeter was pure pleasure. He stretched her, filling her with his hard flesh, making himself a part of her.

  “You’re so fucking tight like this.” He ground the words out as she felt his hands split her ass cheeks. His fingers touched the plug, making her shiver. She sank her fingers into his shoulders as he gently eased the plug a little ways out. Nerves she’d never felt before sprang to vivid life.

  “Oh, Stef, that’s amazing.” She breathed out as he fucked the plug back in.

  His voice was low, guttural. “I can handle you, love. We don’t need a third. I can fuck you the way you need it.”

  He pulled on the plug as he thrust his dick up, proving his point. Jen was filled with him. She’d never been so full. She sank onto his cock and forced herself back up, riding him like the stud he was. She found a perfect rhythm that had the plug and his cock in exquisite parallel. When she lowered herself on his cock, he pulled the plug out to almost her rim, firing off every nerve in her ass. He pushed it back in when she rose, the feeling of fullness unrelenting.

  Every movement brought her closer to that magic place only Stef had ever taken her to. She fucked him with abandon, seeking her pleasure with every bit as much passion as she’d given him his.

  “That’s right,” Stef said, his motions becoming wickedly wild. “Come for me. Come all over my cock. Make me feel it.”

  She felt the command in her clit. He pushed up with his pelvis, grinding against her, and she went flying. The orgasm rushed over her like a wildfire sweeping through her veins. She cried out as she fought for every second of pleasure she could get.

  His body stiffened under her hands. He shook as he came, his gorgeous face contorting with pleasure.

  She fell forward into the circle of his arms. Without hesitation, he held her close, their breaths, bodies, and heartbeats one.

  Chapter Twelve

  Stef had to breathe deeply to get his heart rate down. His blood pounded languorously through his body, satisfaction invading his veins. Jen was wrapped around him, and the world, briefly, seemed utterly perfect to him. She’d submitted in the sweetest way possible. She’d accepted everything he’d given her with grace and a gorgeous sexuality that floored him. He was the one who screwed it up.

  Why had he thought he could walk away from her? He’d never been able to do it. Even when he got the slightest bit of distance, he’d come running back every time. The minute he’d seen her face fall, his heart had clenched. He’d made it to the door, but he’d shut it again, knowing he’d never be able to leave her alone and miserable.

  God, he loved her.

  His hands tightened. He let the truth wash over him. He loved Jennifer Waters with his whole heart, but he’d never be able to keep her. She was too talented, too young to commit herself for her whole life. She needed to see the world and everything it had to offer. Maybe in ten years or so she could make a decision, but until then he had to be unselfish.

  “Stop.” Her head had come up, and she stared down into his eyes. There was a plea there. “Can’t we have a few days? Just a couple o
f days where we don’t fight or think about the future?”

  She could read his fucking mind. This time around was different. Since she’d come back to Bliss, she’d been focused on him, his moods, his thoughts. It made him feel like the center of the universe. God, he couldn’t deny her. Not when it was everything he wanted. He would have to let her go soon enough. He could allow himself a few days of paradise.

  He smoothed back her hair and pulled her close, loving the way their bodies were stuck together, their juices mingling. She would walk around the rest of the day with a piece of him inside her. He pulled her head down. “Of course, love. I want that, too.”

  He let his lips play against hers. He loved how soft she was. Her lips were pliant beneath his. He could play with her all day. A week, that was all he could give himself. Otherwise, he would take her. Already the impulse was there to brand her as his. He had a sudden vision of working with her curled at his feet. Her skin was so porcelain, so perfect, that she could be his palette. He could have her stretch out when he was ready and use her torso to mix his paints. He would bend down when he needed to dip his brush in, and as for inspiration—all he would need to do is look down.

  He shook his head. He was already going to that innately selfish place where all that mattered were his own needs. He would put it out of his mind for now. He had plans for Jennifer. When those came to fruition, he would have long years without her. He should enjoy himself while he could. He took a long, last drag from her lips. “What do you want to do today? Do you want to watch the snowboarding? Or we could join in the snowman competition.”

  A smile of pure pleasure crossed her lips. It did odd things to his heart. “We could kick everyone’s ass.”

  He laughed a bit. “I don’t know. Henry and Nell have been practicing.”

  Her pretty mouth went down in a frowning pout. “Well, of course they’ve been practicing. What else do they have to do? How do they live? I mean it, Stef. They don’t have jobs. I seriously doubt that protesting pays. So how do they maintain that cabin of theirs?”

  He grinned. He couldn’t help it. He knew something no one else knew, and he wasn’t going to tell. If Nell wanted to write crazy erotic romance that mirrored some of the things that happened in town, and Henry wanted to help her with the business end, more power to them. The only reason he knew was he’d been the one to find them a lawyer to set up their LLC. Bliss was lawyer free. It was written into the town’s charter. He’d quietly helped the pair out, and now he would be silent as the grave. “I guess they’re just lucky. Maybe Henry had some family money.”

  What they had was a pseudonym and an e-publisher. They had made more money off Nell’s crazy polyamorous romances than Stef would have believed possible. He knew that because he’d also let them use his accountant. Henry and Nell had asked him to show some discretion, and after reading their latest, he’d decided it was best for the peace of the town if he honored their request. It would make Max and Rye crazy that their adventures had been fictionalized. But it was hard, because he so wanted everyone to know just how filthy Nell’s mind was. Nate had once described her as a Disney princess and Henry as an asexual college professor. Henry and Nell got nasty. Like seriously nasty if that fiction was any indicator of their real life.

  Jen shook her head. She settled against him again. “Maybe.”

  He let his hands wander over her deliciously curved backside, and his brain moved on to more amorous thoughts than the snowman-building contest. He squeezed her ass. God, he couldn’t wait to fuck her there.

  There was a loud knock on the door. Stef spun his head around. Couldn’t he get a fucking moment’s privacy in this town?

  “Stef? Seriously, take a goddamn break! We gotta move,” Max yelled from the other side of the door. He knew it was Max. Only Max could make him want to punch something with the sheer sound of his voice.

  “Go away!” he yelled back.

  “Can’t, Stef.” Now Callie’s voice split through his skull.

  “We should start charging,” Jen said.

  “I might start killing.” His cobbled together family was making him crazy. He squeezed her ass one last time and kissed her lips sweetly before she slid off him. He was reaching for his jeans as he looked at the door. “This better be good.”

  “It’s bad,” Callie said.

  “We’re supposed to take you to the clinic,” Max chimed in.

  He did up the fly of his jeans and felt his curiosity rise. “Why?”

  “Because the doc is doing an autopsy, and Nate thought you should see it,” Max shouted through the door.

  “Get dressed,” Stef barked at Jen. His every nerve was awake, alive, and afraid.

  * * * *

  Twenty minutes later, Stef stared down at the body of one Cindy Pope, aged twenty-one. There was no way he could mistake the resemblance between the dead girl and his Jennifer. They were both brunettes, roughly the same age and build. If a person just glanced at the two, they might think they were the same woman.

  “I wondered why there was a backpack in our trash bin.” Marie shook her very sensible head. “Teeny had gone to take the paid bags out, and she found a nice pack. And still full of her things. Such a shame.”

  “Well, it wasn’t aliens.” A no-nonsense voice spoke up. Stef turned to see a slender, petite female of maybe sixty years pursing her lips. She wore comfortable working clothes, and her long, steel-colored hair was in a braid that went halfway down her back. She stood beside Mel, her arms crossed over her chest. “They use lasers.”

  “Yep.” Mel simply nodded his agreement and stared down at the woman like she was a font of knowledge.

  Dear god, Mel was in love. Heaven help everyone.

  “So, no laser, Doc?” He would leave the actual professional opinion to the man in the green scrubs. As far as he could tell, Caleb Burke might be just as certifiable as Mel, but at least he’d gone to medical school.

  “Nah,” Caleb replied. “It was a knife.”

  No shit. He felt his stomach turn. The girl was just a kid. She was lying on a slab in a clinic in a town she hadn’t been born in. A sick feeling came over him, panic threatening. He’d known this wasn’t over. How the hell had they caught up with her? “Same as Renard?”

  Caleb’s face was a grim mask as he looked back at Stef. “I believe so, though I didn’t see that body personally. The DPD sent me the autopsy report and the crime photos. I sent mine to Detective Brighton. We’ve agreed it’s a possibility. There’s no hesitation here. It’s clean. Mel and his friend, Cassidy Meyer, found her in the river out by 285.”

  Mel let his hand drift to the small woman’s shoulder. “We were out on the alien highway. Our group was securing the recon platform. Cassidy here was making sure the telescope was working. That’s when she saw the poor girl. We knew it wasn’t an alien thing right away. They would never kill a fertile, young female. They would probe her.”

  The woman named Cassidy, who Stef deeply feared Mel had probably met on the Internet, nodded her agreement. “She’s a prime specimen for their fertility experimentations.”

  Nice. He’d found someone as crazy as he was.

  Dr. Burke turned on the couple, his hand out as though seeking to ward off further paranoia. “Rachel is fine. I promise.”

  Cassidy waved her hand. “I know that, Doc. I don’t worry about it. I gave birth to two alien babies, and they’re just fine. Sweetest boys you ever saw. They both went into the Navy. Did their country and their mama proud. One of them has some weird ideas, but he’s a good man. They like beets, though. Couldn’t get enough of them when they were boys. We should tell Rachel to stock up.”

  “Cassidy raised some fine kids. You wouldn’t ever know they’re half alien,” Mel said with a proud smile.

  “I think that’s all we need, Mel,” Nate said, walking into the small room that currently served as the Bliss County Morgue. He was a familiar, welcome figure of authority. “And you, too, Marie. I appreciate everything. Logan can take
the rest of your statements. Y’all go on. Enjoy the festival.”

  In a few seconds the room cleared, and Stef was left with Caleb and Nate.

  “Is this what I think it is?” He couldn’t help the tight, almost violent way the question came out of his mouth.

  Nate sighed. “I don’t know. I have to think we should consider the fact that what happened to Jen in Dallas is connected to this. We haven’t had a murder in Bliss County since…well, we’ve had several, but they were mostly self-defense. This is different.”

  Caleb pointed to the body, his finger gesturing to the line of her throat. It was split neatly, the skin blue from the cold of the river and the fact that she’d left life behind hours before. “It’s a professional job. Neat, surgical. He didn’t do more than he had to do here, but look at her stomach.”

  Burke pulled back the drab blue sheet that covered the girl. Her body was a map of blue and purple bruises.

  “He beat her.” He couldn’t imagine what she’d been through.

  “He tortured her,” Caleb corrected. “There’s a systematic pattern to the bruising that tells me he was controlled when he did this. There’s nothing that hints at someone who was out of control. He didn’t touch her face. He went for soft parts of the body. He knew what he was doing.”

  Nate was staring down at her wrists. “She was tied up.”

  Stef flinched at the chaffing on her wrists. She’d been tied too tightly. Caleb turned the wrist over. The underside was perfectly smooth.

  “I would assume she was tied to a chair,” Caleb said clinically. “Look, I’ve never worked forensics. I was a surgeon, but I know the human body, and I know about interrogation techniques. If you asked me, right now, I would tell you that this young woman was tortured. Given the relative restraint of the violence, I would suspect that the man torturing her was a professional in search of something, information most likely. When he couldn’t get it out of her, he sliced her throat in a manner that would result in a quick death. Exactly what was done to Renard. He then tossed her body in the river, which is sitting at roughly fifty degrees. That kind of cold masks time of death, and due to the depth and speed of the water flow, we can’t know where the crime took place. If Teeny hadn’t found the pack, we wouldn’t know if she’d been here or somewhere upriver.”

 

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