“This is much more satisfying than corner time.”
She might have found it funny any other time but not now. “Will it hurt?” she asked.
“We’ll go slowly, I promise.”
And he did. He worked the lotion in with a patience she didn’t possess, all the while her arousal rising so that she knew if she just touched her clit, just gave it the tiniest pinch, she would come.
As if he had read her mind, one hand was underneath her, two fingers working the swollen nub.
Jess moaned in response.
“Good girl,” he said, his finger penetrating deeper, holding there then withdrawing, calling from her a long, soft moan. “That’s it, just relax.”
A second finger joined the first and she tensed instantly. He slowed but didn’t pull out. Instead, he rubbed her back, speaking soft words, easing into her while his other hand worked her clit. He began to move again, this time a little faster, pushing a little deeper.
“I think we’re ready,” he said, slowly pulling out. “You can put your hands on the desk, spread them wide and just relax.”
She stiffened when the head of his cock pressed against her entrance.
“Push against me, Jess.”
She did, gripping the edges of the desk. His hands took hold of her bottom and spread her open. She gasped when the thick head penetrated but when he groaned, she glanced back. He didn’t move, just waited for her to relax, to stretch and become accustomed to his size. The pain passed slowly, turning into pure sensation.
“You’re tight and hot, Jess,” he said.
She swallowed. One of his hands went to work her clit again and she found herself lifting her hips to him. He pushed deeper, every inch hurting a little as he claimed it, but as she opened, adjusting to him, the small movements he made, the sensation of being taken there, being filled there, did something to her. She came when he hadn’t yet penetrated fully, gasping with the orgasm, her hips bucking against him even as she tried to be still, the sensation of his cock inside her now too sensitive bottom too much.
“Wait. Please wait,” she begged.
He groaned but did, his hand tightening on her hip. It was another moment when he began to move again and when he did, he fingered her clit. She brought a hand over his, wanting to tell him she wasn’t ready, but instead, stretched it back out. Sensation overwhelmed her but she pressed backward, lifting to him, almost meeting his movements.
“Harder,” she found herself gasping as the next wave neared. “Fuck me harder.”
Jackson didn’t hesitate but took the last virgin inch before pulling halfway out to begin fucking her. He worked slowly at first, even when she called out for more, but after her second orgasm left her sweaty and panting, he gripped both hips and began to fuck her ass hard, sensation upon sensation crashing like waves over her so she no longer knew where she was, who she was. She was just this body. This body being fucked with a passion she had not known before and when he throbbed inside her and she felt the first wave of release and the pumping of his seed inside her, she came one final time, this time her legs too weak to keep her upright so he pressed her to the desk, his cock buried to the hilt, throbbing, pumping, filling her, claiming her.
Chapter Eleven
Jackson glanced across his desk to find Jess still shifting in her seat. He wanted to make a comment but the look she gave him when she met his gaze told him it might be better to keep it to himself. It was a half hour later and the two of them were going over every detail, working out possible scenarios.
His mind drifted to what had happened and mostly to her given submission. She seemed to accept her role with him. It was interesting and he would spend more time analyzing that, but it would have to wait. That and the memory of how her tight little hole had clamped down around his cock when she’d come not once, not twice but three times.
His grin widened, but when she looked up to give him another shake of the head, he cleared his throat and turned his attention back to the file.
What he had said to her about spanking her daily, in a way, made the most sense. He knew that, at least until this investigation was over, she would be hard pressed to do anything he told her to if it wasn’t what she wanted to do. She was thick-headed, but smart and capable. Just overzealous and that zeal would get her into trouble if he didn’t watch her. Well, he could live with daily spankings. The idea quite appealed, actually.
The door opened then and they both turned to find both Bill and Carl coming inside, the heat of the afternoon blowing in behind them.
“More trouble,” Carl said. He looked worn out. “Can’t seem to catch a break here, can we?”
“What is it?” Jackson asked.
Carl went to roll the table that held the small TV to where he and Jess could see. He switched it on.
“Reports show the water at the New Hope site where Larimer Energy won the bid to excavate natural gases trapped in the rock beneath the water, a process called hydraulic fracturing—or more commonly fracking—is contaminated with a chemical that has been known to cause cancer over time.”
“Oh my God,” Jess said, standing to move closer to the TV.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Jackson too rose, collecting his keys.
“Bob Greely, CEO of Larimer, and his lawyer, are shown entering Larimer headquarters in Saint Paul, Minnesota. He has had no comment for us.” The camera shot switched over to the reporter. “The leak came late this afternoon when the water quality reports turned up anonymously at…”
“Switch it off,” Jackson said.
“They leaked the reports. They did it,” Jess said.
“Call in some backup from Granby,” Jackson told Carl. Granby was a nearby town. “Keep men up at the site. No one talks to the media but me, got it?”
“I’m on it, Jackson,” Carl said.
“Sheriff,” Bill called out. “Hospital’s on the line. He’s out of surgery, should be waking up in the next few hours.” He held the phone out to Jackson.
“All right, that’s where I’m heading.”
“With me,” Jess said, collecting their files.
“Yes, with you,” he said to her. “Anything come back on his prints? Any ID?”
Carl moved behind his computer. “Got it here,” he said. “Mark Donaldson. He’s got a record: arrested twice for petty theft, moved on to assault with a deadly weapon. Did some time in California.”
Jackson wasn’t surprised by it. “All right. Let’s be there when Mr. Donaldson wakes up from surgery. I have a feeling we won’t be the only ones anxious to talk with him.” The media were going to be all over this.
The heat of late afternoon was tapering off just a little as dark clouds rolled in, the sound of thunder still distant but surely coming.
“That’ll cool things off,” she said. “I don’t think it’s rained since I’ve been here.”
They descended the stairs and he turned in the direction of the cruiser.
“Let me just grab one more thing from the truck,” she said, running across the street.
A car’s tires squealed just as she was almost to the truck.
“Jess!” Jackson yelled, running after her.
The image of her face when she turned, frozen to the spot, would be burned into his memory forever. The car sped toward her just as he pushed her hard out of its path. He heard her scream when she fell but that sound was overridden by an absolute and sudden pain as his body hit the street hard, the car racing away, her voice the last thing he heard before he passed out.
* * *
“Jackson!” Jess yelled, tears falling on top of his still form. “Open your eyes. Jackson, open your fucking eyes!”
“Doctor’s on his way, Miss Manning.”
It was Carl’s voice but all she could do was kneel on the ground by Jackson.
“He’s breathing,” Carl reassured.
She looked over at him kneeling on Jackson’s other side, then at the crowd that was quickly gathering.
Carl looked from Jackson’s body to her, his expression more frightening than helping.
“What happened?” the doctor asked, coming fast to them.
A sound came from Jackson and he moved his head, opening his eyes to look up at her.
“Oh, God…” she managed, tears and relief washing over her. She leaned down to kiss his mouth. “Where does it hurt?”
“Don’t touch him, Ms. Manning,” the doctor told her. He was looking at Jackson’s arm which lay at an impossible angle.
Jackson flinched.
“Say something, Jackson.”
He stared up at her for a moment and more tears filled her eyes. “What about looking both ways before you cross the street.”
She exhaled, all those tears falling while she almost laughed, brushing his hair from his face, holding his hand, watching him.
“Broke his left arm, but otherwise, scrapes and scratches from what I can see,” the doctor announced. “Probably hit his head hard though. What happened?”
“Hit and run,” Carl said, his eyes on Jess.
“Let’s get him to my office so I can properly examine him and get him fixed up.”
* * *
Jess went with him to the doctor’s office and stayed with him as the doctor tended to him.
“Not as bad as it looked,” the doctor said after wrapping Jackson’s arm. “Probably took a knock to the head was the worst of it.”
“He was passed out for a few minutes,” Jess filled in.
“We’ll get a cast on that arm once the swelling goes down. Janey, get him something for the pain.”
“Just Advil,” Jackson said, flinching as he sat up.
The doctor just shook his head and turned to Jess. “Let’s have a look at you.”
“I’m fine. He pushed me out of the way.”
“Let me be the judge of that,” he said, making her sit down as he smeared some ointment over her scratched-up forehead.
It stung but she kept her mouth shut. He looked over a few more spots and she’d have bruises for sure, but it could have been much worse. She looked up to find Jackson watching her and smiled a small smile. It could have been so much worse.
* * *
Jess walked the few blocks back to where the truck was parked. Jackson was at the doctor’s office and the doctor wanted to keep him there for a few hours. She went to pick up some clothes for him; he kept a spare set at the station.
Someone knew she was still in town because that car had come for her. The sound of the tires as it sped up kept repeating in her ears. She remembered the moment when Jackson had screamed her name just as she had turned, instinct warning her too late to run. She had been lucky, they both had. Things could have gone so terribly wrong today.
She turned the corner and saw the dent that mangled the side of Jackson's truck. She didn’t remember that happening, but everything had happened so fast, just like things like this always did. The street was back to normal now and all the files she had been carrying had been cleaned up. She realized she didn’t even have her purse but imagined they were with the files.
Carl and Bill were both still there when she walked into the station. They looked up at her, eyes heavy with fatigue and stress.
“Stupid question, but are you ok?” Carl asked, rising to offer her a seat.
Slowly, thoughts kept coming to her, things like how Jackson had risked his life to save hers. Like how he could be dead right now because of her.
“I’m ok,” she said to Carl, her eyes resting on the files as well as her purse on top of Jackson’s desk.
“How’s the sheriff?” Bill asked.
“Broken arm and bruises but it looked a lot worse than it was. Although he might have a concussion; we just have to keep an eye on him over the next few days.”
“Is he still at the doctor’s office?”
She nodded. “He needed him to stay a few hours.”
“I’ll go over and see him now,” Carl said.
“He said he kept clothes here? His shirt and pants are trashed now,” Jess said.
“I’ll take them with me. Why don’t you go get a cup of coffee or something. Relax for a while.”
“Thanks.” Jess collected the files and her bag. “I think I’ll do that.” She went to the door but turned back. “Any developments?” she asked.
Carl shook his head. “Not yet.”
“Let me know, will you?”
“Will do.”
She walked out the door and this time double-checked both ways before crossing the street. She unlocked the truck and climbed in, finding her cell phone on the passenger seat. She picked it up. It was still on. She’d forgotten to switch it off when she had let him listen to that message. She must never have put it back inside her purse or if she had, it must have just fallen out. They had tracked her from the locating device, she was sure of it. Whoever had done this had come to kill her or to scare her to death.
Jess started the truck.
Well, it hadn’t worked. She followed the signs out of town and toward Granby. She would be at the hospital when Mark Donaldson woke up. She would find the evidence she needed to put Hanson and whoever else was involved away for good and she wouldn’t let anyone else get hurt because of her again.
* * *
It was fully night by the time she pulled into the parking lot at the hospital. She collected her bag, double-checking that her badge and gun were inside, and climbed out of the truck. Jackson was going to be pissed when he found out what she had done. Well, he probably knew by now but since she had switched off her phone, she didn’t know if he had tried to call her.
Well, she was running out of time. Someone had tried to kill Mark Donaldson and would likely try again when they figured out he hadn’t died. He was the next piece to finish this puzzle, to put an end to the killing and destruction in New Hope. She would risk Jackson’s anger for this.
She walked into the hospital and approached the front desk, taking out her badge and holding it up.
“I’m looking for Mr. Mark Donaldson’s room,” she said.
The woman’s expression changed as she read the badge. She then looked at the computer on her desk, clicking some keys. “He’s just been moved to a private room,” she said, reading from her screen. “Room 412, Agent Manning.”
Jess put the badge away. “Thank you,” she said, turning toward the elevators, having to wait just a few moments before the doors opened and she climbed in, pushing the button for the fourth floor.
The hallway was quiet and she only passed one other nurse on her way down the hall. Room 412 was set at the farthest end, closest to the staircase. A policeman was stationed just outside and she held up her badge again. He read it, then nodded, stepping aside. Jess pushed open the door and froze.
“I was wondering when you’d get here.”
Assistant Deputy Director Hanson sat at the farthest end of the room, cradling one arm, looking a little worse for wear.
“Come in and close the door,” he said. “We should probably keep our conversation private.”
He showed her the pistol he held, then set it on his lap. She noticed it was equipped with a silencer.
Jess closed the door behind her slowly, never taking her eyes off Hanson. She noted his unshaven face, the state of his clothes as well as the sheen of sweat that covered his forehead.
“Where’s your gun, Agent?” he asked, his voice hoarse.
“In my purse.”
“Set it on the floor and kick it toward me.”
“Are you ill, sir?” she asked, trying to buy time, thinking.
He lifted his pistol and smiled an evil smile. “Your bag, Agent. Now. I’m not in the mood for games.”
She bent to set the bag on the floor and kicked it toward him.
“Good. Have a seat.”
She took the empty chair across from him, noticing, happily, that Mark Donaldson’s chest moved ever so slightly with his breath.
He followed her gaze. “Sadly, I don’t think Mr. Donaldson is going to survive the night,” he said. He lifted the pistol, pointing it toward the unconscious man.
“Wait, you can’t do that!”
Hanson laughed, then turned the gun toward her while his face contorted with pain. That was the moment she noticed the dark, drying blood under the arm of his shirt. “I’m not, you’re right,” he said. “You are. I will find you just after you’ve done it and when you attack me, well, sadly, you also will not survive the night.”
She glared at him. “Did you kill Ben?” she asked.
“Ben should have minded his own business. As should you.”
“Who did this to you?” she asked, gesturing toward his arm, the blood there.
“This?” he asked. “You did. Or at least that’s how the story will go: rogue agent tries to murder the assistant deputy director after killing the man whom Larimer Energy paid to cover up their tracks by sabotaging the dam of New Hope, Georgia, killing three and destroying the lives of so many.”
“You have quite a gift for news reporting,” she said. “FBI not the right calling?”
“You’re a smartass, Agent Manning. If I knew what a pain in the ass you’d be, I would have taken care of you by now.”
“I’m not the only one who knows. There’s a recording, it’s in the hands of the police now.” Well, it was, sort of.
“What recording?” he asked, not sounding too bothered at all.
“The conversation between you and Royson, the one where he tells you to leak the report.”
His face got hard and his knuckles whitened on the hand that held the gun.
“I’m thinking what happened to you was encouragement to do so,” she said.
From the look on his face, she knew she was right.
A sound came from the bed then, a deep groan as Mark Donaldson moved his head to the side. They both looked over at him and Jess knew this was her moment to react. It was now or never and she wasn’t willing to take a chance on that. Without a moment’s hesitation, she lunged at Hanson, knocking him and his chair over, pulling cords out of the wall as they both crashed to the floor. Alarm bells rang out from the monitors attached to Mark Donaldson and the door flew open, the guard entering along with an army of nurses and doctors. The gun fired, the silencer muffling the sound but not to any experienced ear. Jess fell backward, cradling her shoulder, while he took aim again, until a foot pressed his wrist into the ground and Jackson’s own gun came to within inches of Hanson’s face.
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