by M. S. Parker
I put my fingers against his lips, stopping the flow of words. I understood what was driving him to keep talking, because it was in my mind too. Our date had begun as something sweet and simple, a way to celebrate the season together, but somehow, it had become so much deeper. With everything else that had been going on, it all somehow felt more important than it should have.
“The tree will keep for a bit,” I said. “Let’s go inside, get something to drink, then see what time it is before we decide what to do next.”
He nodded, and I could see relief on his face. “Spiced wine?”
I shrugged. “Never had it before, but sure.”
We left his tree strapped to the roof of his car and headed inside where I soon learned that I liked spices, and I liked wine, but I didn’t like the combination of the two. Fortunately, Jalen wasn’t offended when I asked for a glass of just wine. In fact, I thought he looked a little relieved as he poured us each a glass and then settled on the couch next to me.
I leaned against him, and he slid his arm around my shoulders. He’d turned on some music when we first came inside, and it made for nice background sound as we sipped our wine. As much as I’d enjoyed our date, this was nice too. I could relax here with him and not worry about all the things that wanted to crowd into my head.
“I like this,” he said as he set aside his glass. “Being here with you at the end of the day.”
“Me too,” I said.
I turned my face into his chest and breathed in, filling my lungs with the scent of him. The faint smell of laundry detergent under the clean sweat from our long walk. Pine and snow. And him. All of it merged into something that made my belly clench and the space between my legs throb.
He brushed his fingers through my hair. “It’s a couple inches longer than it was when we first met.”
I shifted so that I could look up at him without losing the contact between us. “I used to have it short, but when I left Quantico, I grew it out.”
He studied my face for a moment, and I wondered if he was trying to picture me with short hair. “I think you’d look good with any length hair, but I can’t lie and say I don’t like being able to use it.”
His eyes locked with mine, and he wrapped his fingers in my hair, tighter and tighter until I let out a hiss of pain. I didn’t understand how he knew exactly how far to take me, how much was enough. I didn’t know where the line was, but he’d never crossed it, never made me ask him to back off. Something in his gaze told me he was about to dance close to it, and damn if the thought didn’t make me wet.
“We don’t have to do anything,” he said, his voice low. “We can finish our wine, bring in my tree, decorate it, and then I can take you home. It will still have been a great night.”
“It will,” I agreed, “but I think we can do better than great.”
Using my hair, he maneuvered me to the floor, positioning me on my knees between his legs. His gaze flicked to the bulge in his jeans, then up to my face, telling me all I needed to know about what the next step should be. My hands shook as I reached for his zipper, but it wasn’t nerves or fear. It was pure anticipation.
I freed his cock, licking my lips as it came into view. Jalen groaned, his grip on my hair tightening. A zing of pleasure went through me, and I leaned down, darting my tongue out to taste the tip.
“Fuck!” Jalen growled, his hips jerking.
The pressure against the back of my head told me what he wanted, but I knew he’d wait for me to let him know it was okay. I nodded and waited for him to guide me again. I rested my hands on his knees, sliding them up his thighs as he pushed my head down. The muscles in his legs bunched beneath the denim, reminding me of just how strong this man was, and how good. Even now, taking control like this, he kept his strength in check, careful to never take things to the point where he was truly hurting me.
I opened my mouth only wide enough for the thick shaft to pass between my lips. He stopped me halfway, and I circled his cock with my tongue, tracing every inch I could reach. His breathing quickened, and he yanked on my hair again, making me take him deeper. I almost gagged as he reached the back of my throat, but I managed to relax by reminding myself that he’d stop if it was too much. Little by little, his cock disappeared into my mouth and throat until my nose brushed against the dark curls that surrounded the base.
“Fuck, Rona.” The words came out choked, as if he was the one who could barely breathe.
He pulled me up, his dick falling from my mouth with a wet sound. It bobbed in the air, slick and full, and I wanted nothing more than to climb on his lap and sink down on it. Then again, there was something I wanted more. I wanted to please him, which meant I’d wait until he told me what he wanted of me.
“You’ve got such a hot mouth,” he said, running his thumb across my bottom lip. “I want to come in it. Watch you swallow every drop. I want you to taste me on your tongue when I take you upstairs, lick you until you’re begging for release, and then take your ass.”
Shit. Hearing him talk like that was almost enough to make me come. “Yes, please,” I said, my voice ragged from desire or from taking him into my throat. More likely both.
He put both hands on my head this time, guiding me down until the tip brushed my lips. I opened again, but he didn’t push me further. Instead, he raised his hips, driving his cock into my mouth fast enough to make me cough. He hesitated, and I gave him a thumbs up, the only way I could think to let him know that I was okay. He gave me a wicked sort of smile before his hips snapped forward. He kept his eyes on me as he held my head in place, fucking my mouth. Some of the thrusts were deep, and I struggled to keep from pushing him away, but others were shallow, and I used my tongue to give him extra friction.
“I’m going to come,” he warned, the words low and rough. “Swallow it all, and I’ll make you come twice before I take your ass.”
I wrapped my lips tight around him and sucked hard. He cursed, and I let my teeth graze the sensitive skin, giving him what he needed to explode. His cum flooded my mouth, and I swallowed the salty liquid, remembering his promise. I looked up at him and knew that even if he hadn’t made it, I would have done the same just to see that look of bliss on his face.
Jalen was, though, a man of his word.
After a few quiet minutes where he waited for his legs to start working again, he pulled me to my feet and kissed me, a deep and thorough kiss that left no room for doubt about how much he’d enjoyed what I’d done. When we were both breathless, we went upstairs to his room, and he set to work making good on his promise to give me two orgasms.
As I came down from my second toe-curling climax of the night, I became aware that Jalen had left the bed and was rummaging around in a drawer. It was only then that I remembered the second part of what he’d said, what would come after my orgasms.
“Bend your knees and hold your legs open,” he instructed as he came back over to the bed.
I did as he said, flushing at how the position exposed me. It wasn’t embarrassment, really, but rather a feeling that I should be embarrassed, that I shouldn’t want him to do this. I wasn’t a prude, and I didn’t have any moral objections to anal sex. It was the trust that went with it. The trust that he would make me feel good. That this wasn’t a form of humiliation but rather of intimacy.
“If you want me to stop, just say the word and I will,” he promised as he knelt on the bed. “This will be a bit cold.”
“Oh!” I yelped as he slicked something cool and wet against my anus.
“It’ll warm up in a minute.”
My eyelids fluttered as he pressed the tip of his finger against the ring of muscle and pushed. The familiar burn made me squirm, but Jalen didn’t stop. He moved his finger in and out, twisting it until I became used to the sensation. I moaned as he added a second finger, turning burn into pain. A bearable pain that I knew would eventually bring me pleasure. He repeated the same twisting strokes, spreading his fingers on every other thrust.
&nb
sp; “You can let go now,” he said when he finally removed his fingers.
My legs dropped to either side, muscles quivering. He was hard again, and as I watched, he coated his cock with the same liquid he’d used on my ass. He leaned over me and took a nipple between his lips. He sucked on it with long, steady pulls that sent bright bursts of light across my nerves.
I ran my hands up his arms, tracing each muscle as I went. I felt the strength in them, the power, and marveled at the man above me. My palms skimmed across his broad shoulders and up his neck until I buried my fingers in his hair, held his head to my breast. A hand moved between my legs, thumb stroking my clit until I’d almost forgotten what he’d been preparing me for.
Then he raised his head, his heated gaze on my face, and I remembered. The blunt head of his cock pressed against my ass, and I tensed.
“Relax,” he said softly. “Just look at me and relax.”
As contradictory as it seemed, I forced myself to simply let go, then groaned as my body yielded to him as his cock pushed inside. I curled my fingers, my nails biting into his shoulder even as he went deeper. The sounds the fell from my lips were little more than noise, mewls, and gasps that joined the curses Jalen gave with each inch he moved forward.
He sank the last bit and held there, his body shaking against mine. I wrapped my arms and legs around him, clinging to his body even as mine struggled to decide what it wanted. I’d never been so full, so overwhelmed with all the sensations my brain was trying to process. I wasn’t sure how much more I could take, but I didn’t ask him to stop. I wanted everything he could give me, even if I couldn’t bear it.
I cried out as he rocked against me, even that slight movement sending another burst of pain and pleasure through me.
He stilled immediately. “Did I hurt you?”
I shook my head. “No. Please, J. Keep going.”
I rolled my hips, gasping as I moved. And then he was moving too, our bodies gradually coming together at first, then with more purpose as we adjusted to the new way we fit together. His mouth came down on mine, teeth harsh and bruising against my lips. I would be sore tomorrow, but all I wanted him to do was hold me tighter, fuck me harder, be rougher. I wanted him to mark me indelibly, make me his.
Because I was his.
I’d told him before that I loved him, and that had been as true then as it was now, but this was beyond love. It was the need to belong. Not to a place or to a family, but to him. To belong to him and him to me.
The thoughts came with startling clarity, exploding into my mind even as I came. I didn’t know what it meant, but I’d think about it later. Right now, I was too full of everything else that was him, and something had to give. So I gave myself.
Completely and totally, holding nothing back.
Seventeen
I was missing something, and it was driving me nuts.
I’d hoped that taking the weekend off to spend time with Jalen would be the break I needed to see the investigation from a new angle this week, to see what I was missing. Except now, I stared at my whiteboard and tried to see whatever connection was slipping through my fingers.
Helen Kingston had managed to escape from Marshal custody twice. Granted, she hadn’t exactly been living in the same house with her assigned Marshal, but people in WITSEC had rules to follow, meetings to keep, especially ones like Helen who’d been put under protection not because she was a witness but because of her own criminal history and connections. I talked with Marshal Franklin about what happened, and at the time, I thought that I’d gotten everything. Now, I wasn’t so sure.
And I couldn’t figure out how she’d done it. She wasn’t stupid. The fact that she’d run a child pornography ring for more than a decade without getting caught was proof of that. But was she smart enough to have been able to leave Cheyenne without a trace, then return, claiming that she’d simply been going on a trip? And why had she done it? Had she simply been wanting to prove that she could? Had she miscarried like she claimed, or had she decided to have the child but hadn’t wanted anyone else to tell her what to do with it?
All of those were good questions, but I couldn’t help feeling like there was a question I should have thought of.
Harry had watched over Helen for more than thirteen years without incident, but then, eight years ago, Helen managed to slip away, have a child, then return, all without him knowing. He’d been a scapegoat, but he also felt guilty because he’d let her manipulate him into more lax monitoring and then he hadn’t reported her absence. He’d looked for her himself for two weeks.
Only now, I was wondering if Marshal Franklin had left something out. Or, rather, someone.
That was it. The thing I was missing wasn’t a thing but a person.
In thirteen years, Harry had to have taken time off. A sick day here or there wouldn’t have been a problem, but he’d surely taken at least one vacation of more than a couple days. Which meant he would’ve had another Marshal looking after her while he was gone.
What if that other Marshal had been the one in charge of Helen when she disappeared that first time? If Harry had suspected that she was going to run or that she’d harm her child, and he hadn’t told the other agent, he might have been willing to protect him or her out of guilt.
Or maybe the other agent had done more than miss something.
Shit.
I ran my eyes over the board again, seeing the facts line up with that new theory in mind.
An agent who looked the other way while Helen found a couple to buy her baby. Or maybe just a single person. An agent who might have been able to tell Helen where she could find someone to get her the paperwork to go along with that baby, or how to get away unseen. An agent who, maybe, had even helped.
I didn’t like the idea that someone in the Marshal service had helped someone like Helen, but it made sense. The pieces fit together better with an unknown agent in the mix, and that told me that I wasn’t completely crazy to be thinking along those lines. It also made Harry’s decision to not fight being the scapegoat more understandable.
How to find my mysterious agent, however, was going to be a little more…difficult.
Harry Franklin hadn’t been thrilled to see me before. Whoever he was protecting was important to him. I doubted he’d answer any questions I might give him this time, which meant I needed to go around him. At this moment, I could only see three possible options to do that.
One, ask Jenna to hack the US Marshals servers.
Two, petition the Marshals as a private citizen.
Three, ask another government agent to request the information.
I sighed and looked at the clock on the computer. If I left right now, I could make it to Clay’s office by lunch. Tomorrow was Christmas Eve, but I knew Clay would be working. He always volunteered to work the days around Christmas so that agents with kids could take vacation time. That’s what he claimed anyway. I’d always suspected that he also did it to give himself an excuse to avoid spending much of the holiday with his parents. He loved them, but I’d always gotten the impression that things were strained between them for some reason.
I didn’t want to drive from Fort Collins to Denver in the snow and on the day before Christmas Eve, but of the three options, this one was the best. I could’ve called, but a favor like this warranted an in-person visit.
“I’ll be out of the office for a while, maybe even the rest of the day,” I announced as I stepped out into the reception area. “I need to head to Denver for a lunch meeting, and depending on where things go from there, I might be back or not.”
Maggie nodded, blonde curls bobbing with the movement. “Do you want case calls forwarded to your cell or have me take a message?”
“Take a message for anything new, but if Jenna calls, have her call my cell,” I said after a moment’s thought.
“Do you want me to schedule appointments for any walk-ins or should I tell them I need to talk to you and I’ll call them?”
“I d
on’t want anything new scheduled this week,” I decided. “Any walk-ins and phone calls, go ahead and schedule appointments for next week. Nothing on New Year’s Day and nothing for the afternoon on New Year’s Eve.”
It was strange, realizing that I wanted to have the holidays off because I had someone to spend them with.
“Are we going to be closed then?” she asked.
I inwardly groaned. “I’m sorry, Maggie, I completely forgot to tell you. We’ll be closed all day tomorrow and Christmas Day, as well as all New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day.” I felt awful. I couldn’t believe I’d forgotten to let my lone employee know that she didn’t need to come in on the holidays.
“I think you’ve been justifiably preoccupied,” she said with a smile. “I’ll hold down the fort here. Drive safe.”
I smiled and thanked her before heading out into the wintery morning. She’d found someone to clear the sidewalk and parking lot, and we hadn’t gotten a fresh layer since yesterday afternoon, so the roads were clear as well. It was cold, but probably not cold enough to keep the salt from working. I hoped all of that added together for a pleasant drive. I needed to have my head together when I met with Clay.
“You want me to do what?” Clay stared at me across the table as if he hadn’t heard my clear and pointed request.
I’d known showing up at work with a lunch offer was a risk, but I’d also known that it’d be harder for him to refuse if we were face-to-face. Harder, however, didn’t mean impossible.
“I need the names of all the US Marshals who had any contact with Marcy Wakefield.”
“You mean Helen Kingston? Jenna’s biological mother.”
I nodded. “You gave me Harry Franklin’s name, and I know he’s the one who took the blame when Helen slipped under the radar and came after Jenna, but I don’t think that’s the whole story.”
