A Corner Of My Soul

by Caitlyn Willows

  Her laughter carried him to the front door. Doug peeked through the lacy sheers his grandmother had insisted on putting up, gearing for battle. His big black bear wound up being a half-drowned raccoon.

  "Damn it all!” He whipped open the door and jumped out. The animal shot three feet into the air and darted for the tree line.

  Behind him, service revolver nestled in her hand, Natalie squealed with more laughter. “My hero! Please, sir, give me your sperm so we can perpetuate your DNA."

  "I'll give you my sperm, woman.” He hauled the coolers inside, then stalked toward her, hands reaching for her jeans as he neared.

  Natalie reholstered her weapon and stripped to skin before he could reach her.

  Doug caught her against him and toppled them onto the narrow couch. “Despite the laughter at my expense ... do you have any idea how hot you looked just now? Hair tousled around your shoulders, weapon ready to defend your man? Now that deserves a special reward."

  He crawled down her body, spreading her thighs wide for his mouth. Her scent drifted to his nose, that great combination of Natalie coupled with their earlier sex. “Mmm ... you smell like a bottle of vanilla extract."

  "That's good, right?” She put her hands on his shoulders, urging him down, and tossed one leg over the back of the couch. The other hit the low coffee table, knocking over her purse and the contents of the case file beside it.

  The papers drew his attention like steel to a magnet, the effect on his libido more effective than a plunge in a freezing lake. His erection plummeted. His thoughts shifted to the man he'd help put in prison, a monster who should have been killed outright. Obviously the universe had agreed. Three months later Stephen Harcourt was shanked in prison. Doug had felt it the minute the man died. Memories of the hunt slammed through Doug's head, sickening his heart.

  He was semi-aware of Natalie beside him, draping the afghan from the back of the couch over his shoulders to battle the chills suddenly rattling through him. She shoved a mug of something hot between his hands, offered him his T-shirt. God, how long had he been out of it?

  He clutched the T-shirt in his fist and sucked down the hot tea. It warmed him from the inside out.

  Then she was next to him, arm around his shoulders and her other hand on his thigh. Her love and compassion filtered through the nightmare, settling him, giving him a lifeline to sanity.

  He focused his gaze on her heart-shaped face, absorbing the strength and love he saw there. And not one shred of pity or fear.

  "This is why I love you.” He cupped her cheek. “This is why I need you ... forever.” He pressed his lips to hers in a simple kiss he hoped said everything he couldn't put into words. “You are the woman of my heart, the corner of my soul that's good and kind and pure and strong."

  Tears filled her eyes and spilled down her cheeks over his fingers. She curled her hand around his and kissed his palm, then urged him to his feet with her. Doug stood and wrapped his arms around her, inhaling the smell of her hair.

  She laced her fingers through his, turned, and led him back to the bedroom. Doug was more than content to follow. He wanted to snuggle under the covers with her warmth surrounding him while the rain drummed them to sleep.

  Once beside the mattress, Natalie unsnapped his jeans and eased the zipper down. He shoved off his shoes and yanked the denim from his legs. A gentle push of her hand pressed him to the bed. He stretched out and reached for her.

  She wiggled in between his feet. Her long hair fell just above her nipples. She caught the direction of his gaze and brushed a strand over them until they hardened. Doug's penis stirred at the sight, then flared to full staff when she palmed her breasts.

  He swept his gaze to the dark curls at her crotch, a silent plea for her to play there. Natalie didn't hesitate. Fingers drifted to his goal. She hesitated at the apex of her labia. Breath held, she parted them slowly until her clitoris peeked out.

  Doug flexed his fingers into the sheet beneath him. This was her show, and he was going to enjoy every second of it. She rolled her head back as she dipped her fingers into her pussy. Slick juices glistened against her skin, clung to the curls at the top when she rolled over her clit. Her labia were free of hair, begging for his mouth.

  Soon.

  She bent forward as he thought the word, dusting her fingers up the inner part of his legs. Doug widened them for her. His sac tightened in anticipation of her touch, cock lifting for her. He gasped when her breasts rubbed his thighs, thrusting up for more. She nestled them into his balls, raking her nails over his stomach until he trembled.

  Her breath heated the head of his cock, hair tickled his skin like a thousand fireflies against him. Natalie shifted up again, wrapping his erection in her cleavage. He plunged into it and she flashed her tongue over his glans.

  Doug groaned and arched into the sensation. Hot lips closed over his penis, sucking gently while she twirled her tongue around and around the top, through the slit, over the flesh tag under it. Her nimble fingers fondled his balls, kneading them harder while she pressed into the extra-sensitive spot behind them.

  He grunted a complaint when she pulled away, then cried out when she wrapped her mouth over the under-ridge of his cock and nibbled her way down and up, down and up. His balls felt like stones in her palm. She rolled them higher, or were they clenched on their own? It was so hard to know and impossible to care.

  Natalie straddled his leg. Pussy juices kissed his skin. He wedged his knee against her clit, giving her something hard to ride. A moan settled her firmly in place. She rocked into him. Doug pivoted into her mouth.

  She circled her thumb over the base of his cock, her finger against his ass. Thighs clenched his leg in a vice-like grip. Fire pooled in his groin, scorching its way to freedom. Then she plunged her finger deep inside him.

  A half-growl, half-groan ripped from his throat. He snapped his hands around her head, holding her in place while he fucked her mouth ... and she fucked his knee ... and ass. Her body tensed as orgasm seized her and she deep throated him on a hard suck that yanked him inside out. Doug exploded into her mouth, cum pouring from him in jets he swore split him in two.

  Hard pants sagged him into the mattress. Natalie's kisses and licks eased his flaccid penis down to earth. As she crawled up into his arms, she pulled the covers with her.

  "Not exactly the way to make babies but..."

  Doug chuckled. “Sweetheart, no complaints here.” He tilted his chin up on the crook of his finger and kissed her. “I could stay like this forever."

  Natalie smiled and snuggled deeper. “And here I was hoping you'd cook up the fish you won from the raccoon."

  "Slave driver.” He rolled her to her back, nestled between her thighs, and covered her mouth with his.

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  CHAPTER 5

  Natalie pulled her arms from the sleeves of Doug's gray sweatshirt and hugged her midriff against the chill. The rain had turned to a mist that fogged the surrounding woods. Dusk and inclement weather muted the brilliant green to almost gray and the temperature was now in the mid-sixties. With nightfall, the temperature would drop twenty degrees—perfect snuggling weather.

  She watched fish scales spit into the air as Doug rasped the knife over his catch. He was getting soaked out there by the old stump he used for fish cleaning, but refused her offer of holding an umbrella over him while he worked. First, because he didn't want her wet; second, because they didn't have an umbrella. He'd also pointed out the fish smell was best left in the yard rather than the back porch—in case their deadly raccoon came back.

  The least she could do to support his efforts preparing their dinner was to sit on the porch and give him company. He hadn't asked for details yet about the murders. Natalie knew he would once he was fully prepared. The last thing she wanted to do was rush him, especially since there wasn't much either of them could do now. Tucked in the warmth of his sweatshirt, the scent of him surrounding her, she watched him flash his knife ov
er the fish like he was a pro chef. The silver scales looked like diamond flakes cast from the blade. In what seemed only minutes he had the first fish filleted, nestled back in the ice chest, and was reaching for the second one.

  "Want a beer waiting for you up here?” she called out.

  Doug lifted a smile her way. “That'd be great."

  "Be right back.” Natalie stuffed her arms back into the sleeves as she walked inside.

  Each time she looked at the interior, she loved the place more. The main area was wide open, yet cozy. Two bedrooms and a bathroom were directly beneath a nice loft. Steep spiral steps led up there. With a fire now crackling away in the fireplace it would be especially warm and cozy—and one hundred percent off-limits. That thought made her smile. The loft was exclusively the domain of his grandparents; no one trespassed, not even during those times when the cabin burst at the seams with family and friends. From what Doug had told her, being crowded happened more times than not. From the smile on his face at that news, it didn't seem like a hardship to anyone, just great fun.

  She snagged two bottles of beer from the fridge and returned to her perch in one of rockers outside. Doug was just placing the second batch of fillets in the cooler. The rain was a steady drizzle. His jeans and light flannel shirt stuck to his body—a very nice sight indeed.

  "You're what I'd call a dedicated outdoorsman.” Natalie loosened the cap on his beer and set it next to the other rocker.

  Doug smiled and used the rain to wash off the acrylic cutting board and his fish knife. “Oh? Is that what you'd call me?"

  She lifted her beer bottle to her lips. “Well, that and the future father of my children apparently."

  His grin widened. “What do I need to do to change ‘apparently’ or ‘obviously'?"

  Natalie considered telling him to strip the shirt off, but it was too chilly and she knew without a doubt he'd do it. “I think I'll keep you guessing for a while. At least until after you feed me dinner. Don't want you to get too cocky and sure of yourself."

  "And here I thought there was no such thing as too much cock."

  "You got me there,” she said with a laugh.

  He slipped the knife into its sheath at his side, set the cutting board on top of the cooler, and carried both back to the porch. The rocker groaned when he sat down beside her and lifted his beer.

  "I smell like a cross between wet dog and fish. Sorry."

  "No worries. I've smelled you before.” Sweaty from a run, fresh from a shower, with aftershave and without. She'd memorized every one.

  Doug grinned and took a long drink, closed his eyes as the brew wiggled down his throat, then opened them once more to stare into the trees. Natalie not only saw the shift in him, she felt it. Time for business.

  "I'm ready,” he said. “Tell me what's happened."

  "Do you want the case file?"

  Doug shook his head. “I've seen it. I want the information from you ... your feelings and perceptions of what's going on. I've got my blocks up. All I see and feel is you and that's all I want."

  She was honored he'd placed so much faith in her, but then, it wasn't the first time he'd shown her that professional courtesy. They'd been working closely for a year, but this right now was much more personal. He was trusting her with his mind.

  "The murders started two days after you left. The prosecutor's car was found abandoned on the I-5, two flat tires. Her body was found the next morning outside her home. She'd been tortured for at least twelve hours, cut slowly, face first and then the rest of her body. Her clothing was ripped where she'd been cut, but she wasn't nude. There was evidence she'd been gagged and staked out on her lawn. That might explain why the neighbors didn't hear anything. She was stabbed through the uterus, then her throat cut."

  "Cynthia was pregnant. The killer was sending a message.” Doug nodded as he said the words, evaluating the scene and motivations. “Cynthia was having an affair—"

  "Yes, we found evidence in her house. Her lover and his wife both have tight alibis for the night. There was a note left at the scene, ‘They're all going to die. It's just a matter of who I can reach first.’”

  "Which would have tied things up neatly if it'd been the wife. The note could have meant she was hunting down her husband's lovers. Tell me about the next murder ... the judge."

  He had gotten a good look at the case file. Natalie was amazed at how much he'd been able to absorb.

  "He and his male friend went missing two days after Cynthia's disappearance. Did you know the judge was gay?"

  "Yeah, but not through any great insight.” Eyebrow arched, he glanced her way. “He toe-tapped me in a restroom once. Go on."

  "Same scenario. Twelve hours later he and his friend were found near Griffith Park. His friend was killed first and the penis shoved into the judge's mouth."

  "And the note?"

  "This note said, ‘For Stephen Harcourt. He will rest in peace when the rest of you have suffered and died.’”

  "My first suspect would be his brother,” Doug said.

  Josiah. Eighteen years old and a mess. In and out of foster care for five years. He'd idolized his older brother. He'd vowed revenge when Stephen was convicted and reiterated that promise when Stephen was killed three months later. The FBI had been keeping an eye on him until recently.

  "He quit his job at the meat packing plant right after Harcourt was buried and"—she made quotation marks in the air—"'fell off the radar.’ No one's been able to find him. At that point, we started rounding up everyone involved in Stephen Harcourt's conviction and offered them protection. We knew you were in an isolated location and relatively safe, but everyone thought it best to have someone come get you. I volunteered."

  He slid his hand over hers. Despite the cold, his fingers were warm. “I'm glad.” He dropped away and leaned back into the chair, rocking to and fro. “I felt it the instant Stephen Harcourt was murdered. I really don't like being that mentally connected to a madman. Something like that can eat you alive from the inside out. When he died, there was like this ... I don't know ... a cosmic something. There was explosive rage and then it felt like this awful evil cloud seeped into the world."

  He gave a small laugh. “It felt like it was coming for me. That's when I knew it was time to come here and clear my head a little. My family was already planning the trip, so I joined them. The hardest part was leaving you when all I wanted was to hold on tight, tell you how I felt. But I knew once I had you in my arms, I'd never want to let you go."

  Natalie leaned over and brushed the backs of her fingers over his whisker-roughened cheek. “And once I knew you were in danger, I couldn't rest until I was here to help make sure you were all right."

  Doug wrapped his hand around hers, kissed her palm, then tugged Natalie to her feet as he stood. “It's getting cold and dark, and I stink of fish."

  She stepped into his arms and kissed him. “Why don't you jump in the shower, and I'll start dinner."

  "Now that sounds like a deal.” His smile didn't quite reach his eyes.

  Natalie held the door open as he carried the cooler of fish inside. She would have given just about anything to take the words back or make the horror of this case go away. All she could really do was be there for him and understand.

  Doug stripped by the back door, leaving his sodden clothing in pile outside to deal with later. Fish scales clung to his face, hands, and hair. His skin had paled. She knew he had to be close to freezing as damp as he was, but she couldn't help feel the information she'd given him had weighed him down, poisoned his system.

  "It's okay.” He kissed her, a gentle press of lips to lips that lasted forever and still wasn't long enough. “I'm filling my head with you and nothing else is allowed in. I won't be long."

  Natalie remained riveted to the image of his body as he walked on to the bathroom. If he was using her to fill his head, she could do nothing less than make sure she projected happy thoughts. She poured every ounce of love she felt for the man
into her head.

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  CHAPTER 6

  Doug's body came back to life under the warmth of the shower spray. Love and passion wrapped into those dark spaces of his mind and chased away the ugliness. He could feel Natalie in the kitchen, focused exclusively on him and dinner, caring for him as she had earlier when he'd been caught unaware by the file notes.

  He loved her for not pressing him, for not freaking out over it, for the conscious effort she took to breathe only positive thoughts to help him center and re-energize. His woman. His love.

  He smiled as he thought about her, seeing them spread out before the fireplace later on, wrapped in each other's arms. His erection blossomed in response, chasing away the remnants of his chills. He thought of the newlyweds down the lake and shot a wave of lust their way for a change. Nothing those two could do would match him and Natalie tonight.

  Doug twisted off the water and grabbed a nearby towel. He scuffed it over his body, debating on whether or not to greet Natalie naked and with a hard-on. He heard her humming. More happiness and love squeezed his heart. He snapped the towel around his waist and joined her in the kitchen.

  She'd raked her long hair into a ponytail to keep it out of the way while she worked. In the short time he'd showered, she thrown a salad together, peeled potatoes and cut them into fries, and breaded the fish for frying.

  Natalie leaned into him when he wrapped his arms around her. “Ready for me to start the fish?"

  All he wanted was her.

  "If we eat first, we won't have to leave bed for the rest of the night,” she said.

  Doug pulled up. “How did you know what I was thinking?” Were they that bonded? He didn't know whether to hope it was yes, or pray it was no. And yet it had happened to everyone in his family, whether they were born into it or married. It was one of those things a bonded couple absorbed. He'd be smart to warn her soon.

  "It's a little hard to miss with your penis stabbing a hole in my lower back."