NY State Trooper- The Complete Box Set

by Jen Talty

  “That was beautiful,” he said.

  “We’re not done yet.”

  He stood, with the intention of pushing back so she was fully on the sofa, but her deft little fingers had already unzipped his jeans, lowered them, along with his boxers, to his ankles. Her hand clenched around his shaft, squeezing as she glided over the length of him. Her hot tongue danced across the tip as she stared up at him. Her eyes filled with the desire to please. He reached down, pushing her hair aside, holding it back, and watched. She stoked him in slow tortuous stokes. She went from squeezing him firmly as her hand glided up and down, to her fingers gently caressing him, her tongue constantly swilling over the tip.

  “Stop.” He wrapped a wad of her hair around his fist.

  “No,” she whispered.

  He tugged at her hair, keeping her mouth form touching him again. “You have to stop.” With more brute force than he wanted, he pushed her back onto the sofa, but she didn’t seem to mind. She rested her body on her elbows, her legs spread wide with her knees slightly bent. Her skin beaded with sweet that sparkled in the moonlight.

  “I was having fun.” She tried to pout, but it came across as a sexy smile.

  “So was I,” he said, still trying to catch his breath. “If you kept that up, it would be over, and my recovery period I’m sure is a lot longer than yours.”

  She smiled at him as he reached into his wallet then removed the condom. Often, the act was a bit of a buzz kill, but not with her.

  She watched him put the protection on as if it were the most sensual thing she’d ever seen. “Come here,” she whispered. “I want you.” She spread her legs wider, her body moist and ready.

  He groaned as he entered slowly, stopping for a moment when he was completely inside her. He propped his hands on either side of her head, keeping most of his weight off her and staring into her eyes, pleased her lids fluttered in pleasure. Her hips ground slightly against him. “Slow,” he whispered. Her hands roamed his back and ass, trying to pull him closer, encouraging to go harder and faster.

  But he wasn’t about to do that. He wanted to watch her face as he brought her to climax yet again. He reached between their bodies, caressing her hard nub with his thumb while he stroked her hot, tight insides. She lifted her hips up to meet him with a sense of urgency. “Please,” she begged. “Doug…”

  He continued to stroke her slowly as his fingers remained between their bodies, rubbing gently in a slow circular motion. Her head rolled left and right. Her chest lifted up and down. She made sweet moaning noises as she jerked with another climax.

  He dropped his weight on her, pressing his lips against hers, ramming his tongue inside. He slammed himself inside her over and over again. Her legs wrapped around him. She ground against him, matching his passion. Her fingers dug into his ass, and he entered her one last time, stopping again when he was completely inside her, feeling her tighten around his shaft, and then he came with his own quiver.

  When his body relaxed a little, he buried his face in her neck. She rewarded him with a few tender kisses on his neck, and kept her legs tightly wrapped around his waist while she caressed his back.

  Long moments passed as they regained their breath. Nothing was said. They needed no words. The night had been perfect. He found the blanket, then covered them, rolling her to the side so he could spoon her again, the perfect position for them to fall gently asleep. Together.

  8

  “Stacey,” a rough, husky voice whispered. “Wake up.”

  “Huh?” She stretched a little, arching her back as her eyelids fluttered open to the most wonderful vision imaginable. Doug’s long, dark hair touched his bare shoulders. His dark, intense eyes focused on her, and only her. “What time is it?”

  “Five-thirty.” He brushed her hair from her face, letting his fingers linger across the soft part of her neck, warming her entire body.

  “Why are you waking me up this early?” She pulled the blanket over her naked body, then curled up on her side, resting her head on his thigh. “It’s too early to get up.” She closed her eyes tight, not wanting to leave this place and time. The world stood still when she was in his arms. There was no murder. No speculation that Doug could have harmed anyone.

  “All right,” he said, “but I don’t think we want to be here, like this, when—”

  “Oh.” She sat up. “That would be awkward.”

  “You certainly have a way with words.” He sat on the edge of the chaise lounge, holding her clothes in one hand. His other traced her check, then he ran his thumb across her lips before he gently kissed them. “Good morning, beautiful.”

  He pulled back, his soft brown eyes still locked with hers, his palms tenderly cradling her face. “Last night was special.”

  “It was,” she said. Her heart fluttered with a mixture of fear and passion. “So, which one of us is going to blush the most at breakfast?”

  He groaned, dropping his forehead to hers. “You rarely blush, and you have this uncanny way of making everyone else around you blush. Really, sometimes it might be a good idea to put a filter in.”

  “Too much fun to watch people squirm.” She let the back of her hand roll across his check. It was warm and soft, and everything about him felt right. “Last night might have been a little blush-worthy, but only because this is my dad’s house, and I’ve never done it—”

  “Filter.” He covered her mouth with his hands. “I don’t want to know where or who, ever. Really.”

  She smiled. “Well, Douglas Tanner, are you jealous?”

  “Yes.” He pressed his lips against hers, but he cut it short. “We keep doing that, we’re going to end up doing what we did last night again.”

  “I’m up for it.” Now that she’d had him, there would be no one else for her, ever. The way he’d made love to her… He’d claimed her, like a king did his queen.

  He groaned. “Of course you are, but getting caught would be more than blush-worthy.”

  “You have a good point,” she said. “This is something my dad certainly isn’t ready for, but I’m still a little surprised he seemed to be okay with us.”

  “I didn’t exactly say that. He might be okay with old-fashioned dating.”

  “Dating? We’re way past dating.”

  “True,” he said, “but this is still your dad’s house. I don’t think we need to flaunt this in his face.”

  “I really don’t think he cares.”

  “He does,” Doug said. “He’s ready for us to date. That’s about it. Besides, I want to keep all this to ourselves for a while.”

  “I don’t see the point.”

  “Just until everything with Mary is wrapped up.”

  “If I didn’t know better,” she said, “I’d think you were ashamed of us or something.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “You know that’s not true.”

  “I know. But we don’t have to keep things from family. My father doesn’t like it when I do that.”

  “He knows enough.” He kissed her nose. “With everything that is going on, this is the one good thing. I’m being selfish.”

  “If it means that much to you.” She could see in his eyes how much he cared. She suspected it had less to do with him wanting to have something just between them than with his trying to protect them all. She understood. “I’ll sneak up first. That way, if he wakes up, it will take him a while before opening the door, and he won’t catch me. You, on the other hand, well....” She shrugged. “You will have to face the music.”

  He shook his head. “Maybe I should just go to the kitchen, start coffee, and get the paper.”

  “Well, we best get a move on, because he’ll be in the kitchen in about thirty minutes.” She pulled back the blanket, revealing her naked body, then paused, letting him get a good look.

  “You are so bad.”

  She laughed. “You’re going to sit there and watch me get dressed, aren’t you?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  She had never been mo
dest, and after last night, whatever modesty she did have with Doug was utterly gone. She stood, letting the blanket drop, then she took the clothes, one by one, slowly putting them on while Doug just stared. It was nice to be admired, but it was almost weird that it wasn’t weird at all.

  “While I am enjoying this, not the time to be slow.”

  “True.” She pulled her shirt over her head, and then tucked her bra into her jeans pocket.

  “You go upstairs. I’ll go put on some coffee.”

  “See you shortly.” She kissed him, and then they went out into the living room. Doug turned right toward the kitchen, and she turned left toward the stairs. She had just rounded the corner in the family room when she heard her father’s door creak open. She turned on her heels then hightailed it into the kitchen, all while trying to put her bra on. Doug must have gotten an eyeful, because he said, “Put the boobs away, or I won’t be responsible for what happens next.”

  “Dad, coming down the stairs.”

  “Well, crap.”

  “Just act casual.”

  “Uh-huh, casual it is.”

  Stacey plopped herself down at the table, fiddling with the People magazine she’d left there. Doug was tiptoeing around, trying to make a pot of coffee as quietly as he could, when they both heard a woman’s voice.

  “No,” Stacey said. “Can’t be.”

  “I think it is,” Doug said. “Well, I’ll be damned.”

  Sure enough, Jillian walked into the kitchen, her hair no longer in a ponytail, but flowing freely past her shoulders, and quiet ruffled. Her shoes were in one hand, her purse, and nylons in the other. She stopped mid-step, causing Jim to walk right into her. “Oh,” she said. “Hello.”

  “Good morning,” Doug said. “Sleep well?”

  “Um, yes, thank you,” Jillian said.

  “Staying for breakfast?” Stacey tried her hardest not to laugh as she covered her mouth, but by the look on her father’s face, she hadn’t covered her laugh well enough.

  “Well, um, I think I should just go,” Jillian said, trying to slip on her shoes gracefully and failing miserably. “I’ve got lots of work. I should go—”

  “I’m making French toast,” Doug said as he started to move about the kitchen, pulling out the eggs and getting the bread out. “Sausage, too.”

  “The cat is out of the bag,” Jim said. “Might as well stay.”

  “Sounds great.” Stacey looked at her father, who stood in the kitchen in his bare-feet, breaking his biggest rule of all about men and the kitchen. “Dad, really. No shirt?”

  “I’ll be right back.” Her father’s face flushed, but he managed an arched brow and waggled his finger at her. Stacey was going to have way too much fun with this.

  “Too bad I wasn’t a lot taller, Jillian, or you could wear something of mine and enjoy a leisurely morning on the lake.”

  “Hey, I like your size,” Doug said.

  Jim stopped at the family room door, let out a long breath, then left.

  Jillian had stuffed her panty hose in her purse, then put the purse near the back door. “I’ve been seeing your dad for a little while.”

  “So we found that out the other day,” Stacey said. “My dad has always been very private… Well, I’ve almost never met any of the women he’s dated.”

  “He told me that,” Jillian said. “He also told me you could be very direct and honest.”

  “We keep duct tape around, just in case.” Doug was busy bustling around the kitchen, prepping for breakfast. The man wasn’t a very good cook, but he did two things well. French toast, and shit on a single.

  “Har, har, you’re a funny guy.” Stacey sat across from Jillian, studying the woman. It was difficult to keep a straight face, so she gave up and just smiled. “I only want my father to be happy.”

  “He’s a good man.”

  “The best.” She had so much she wanted to say. To ask. “How long have you and my dad been…sleep—”

  “Cream? Sugar?” Doug put two mugs of coffee on the table, then gently squeezed Stacey’s shoulder.

  “How long have you been dating my father?”

  “Jillian smiled. “I met him about three months ago at the deli in the village. There weren’t any tables open, and he offered to share his.”

  “That’s my dad,” Stacey said.

  “We started meeting there for lunch regularly. Then going to movies. A few dinners. He’s different than anyone I’ve ever met before.”

  “He’s definitely special,” Doug said.

  “The three of you are special.” Jillian pulled her hair back into a ponytail. Her professional demeanor had returned. “Jim told me a little more about Doug’s past and how all of you met.”

  The griddle sizzled in the background as Doug slapped on eight pieces of bread slathered in eggs, while another frying pan had sausage links. Nothing like the smell of cinnamon and sausage.

  “Jim saved my life,” Doug said. “I owe him everything.”

  “He thinks he owes you everything,” Jillian said. “Perhaps I’m speaking out of turn, but the two of you are pretty much all that matters to him, which leads me to some something I didn’t say last night.”

  “What’s that?” Doug asked.

  Jillian sipped her coffee, keeping her gaze on Stacey. “We have to be prepared for the dangerous path Gregory is going down.”

  “What path is that, exactly?” Doug asked.

  Stacey wanted to go back into that sunroom with Doug and stay there until this whole thing was over.

  “He’s coming after Stacey’s record,” Jillian said. “Calling into question how she handled the rescue swim dive the day Mary was found.”

  “I hate that guy,” Doug said. “He has no respect for women in an authority position.”

  “But we have to deal with him because he’s lead on this case,” Stacey said.

  “But he doesn’t fight fair,” Jillian said. “I know you want to keep your relationship private, but it’s not.”

  Stacey glanced at Doug.

  “I don’t see why this is such a big deal,” Doug said. “It’s no one’s business.”

  “People are making it their business,” her father said as he entered the kitchen. “Why we keeping harping on it.”

  “Thing is,” Jillian said. “No matter how private you want it to be, right now you both are very much in the public’s mind. If people were talking before, they are talking now and Gregory, as we’ve seen recently, doesn’t need a whole lot to make this family miserable by just pushing your buttons and implicating Stacey is an accomplice, is going to generate a lot of buzz.”

  Doug turned back to flip some French toast. Stacey eyed him carefully. He lifted his mug, then slammed it on the counter. “We get it. Time to drop it.”

  “I’m thinking it might be a good idea for Reese, Stacey, Luke, and I to talk things through today,” Jillian said.

  “I can arrange that,” Stacey said.

  Doug placed two plates of food in the center of the table, before sitting next to Stacey. “What should I be doing?”

  “Going to work,” Stacey and Jillian said in unison.

  “You too, Jim,” Jillian said.

  “I feel like I should be doing something to help,” Jim said.

  “Not hauling off and hitting a sheriff would be a good start.” Stacey waggled her finger at her father with a smile.

  “Any good father would have done the same thing I did.”

  “Not the point,” Stacey said.

  “Moving on. It’s best if all of you went about normal routines,” Jillian said.

  “Stacey took a leave from work,” Doug said. “That’s not normal.”

  “I took a week’s paid vacation,” Stacey said. “No one knows I hadn’t requested that months ago.”

  “Let’s focus on some other things,” Jillian said, defusing the situation. “I meant to ask you about Mary’s sister last night. I understand both her parents died a few years ago.”

 
“Her sister’s name is Olivia Grout. I’ve talked to her. I’m letting her arrange the funeral and all that, but I’m paying for it.”

  “What kind of relationship did you have with your sister-in-law?” Jillian asked.

  “Not much. We only met twice. They weren’t close. Actually, half-sisters, but Mary did—does—have a will, and she was pretty explicit about how that got handled.”

  “Including you paying for it?” Jim asked.

  “No, I offered. And it’s the right thing to do.”

  Stacey didn’t necessarily agree, but she’d have that argument with Doug another time.

  “Has the sister asked anything about the murder? Accused you of it?”

  Doug shook his head. “We didn’t talk much at all, and I doubt we will. When I say they weren’t close, I mean they were total strangers. Olivia is eighteen years older, and the only reason she’s doing this is because her father would have wanted her to.”

  “Okay,” Jillian said. “Have any funeral plans been made?”

  “I don’t know, exactly. Something small. Outside of Albany, where her parents are buried.”

  “It might not be as small as you want it to be,” Jillian said. “We’re going to have to make sure that your part in this doesn’t look fake, or like you’re playacting the grieving widower. It’s not that you don’t have feelings, but the reports are playing on the divorce, so you have to care, but not care, if that makes sense. If everyone thought you had a happy marriage, it would be different.”

  “I plan on attending,” Doug said. “I owe her that.”

  “As you should. But I want to keep you as far from the center of attention as possible.” Jillian continued to nibble on her food. “But we can talk about this later. Right now, we need to focus on the next forty-eight hours, which are going to be crucial to the prosecutors. If they can’t find enough to arrest you, the public is going to go ballistic, demanding answers, which actually works in our favor.”