“Push out,” he ordered.
I thought that was a marvelous idea, because holy hell I had a feeling that I would regret this, and honestly was on the verge of telling him to stop. That we needed more practice before we went that far.
But by me pushing out, things changed down there.
Instead of holding him off, it seemed to open me up.
I gasped when the tip of his cock breached my entrance.
It hurt.
Oh, boy did it hurt.
But just as suddenly as the pain was there, it was gone.
I moaned at the fullness, breath hitching in my throat, as I froze.
He growled low and deeply, his hands latching onto the meat of my ass and squeezing as he tried to get himself under control.
I panted.
“What does it feel like for you?” I asked between breaths.
His hands loosened, but only enough that he wasn’t digging his short fingernails into my flesh.
The view was probably pretty epic.
I wished I could see what it looked like.
I’d have to settle for looking at his face over my shoulder.
His eyes were closed, and the muscles on his neck and shoulders were bunched, as if he was trying very, very hard not to plunge all the way inside of me and scar me for life.
Seeing the look on his face, it gave me the courage to inch back on his cock a bit, taking just a little bit more of him.
His eyes snapped open, and they caught mine.
“Don’t move,” he growled. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
I shook my head, unable to help myself now.
I was on the verge of coming.
How the hell had that happened?
I bit my lip and pushed back some more, only to lean forward until just the tip was once again clinging to the ridge of my asshole.
Before he could say anything else, I plunged the rest of the way onto him, crying out in surprised delight as the orgasm that I could feel teetering on the edge burst through me.
His strangled cry of surprise was drowned out by the roaring in my ears.
I felt Booth lose control, knew the instant that he was coming, too.
But the orgasm was still holding onto me with two hands, dragging me under so far that I couldn’t find which way was up.
It was a long time later that I finally came back to myself.
I found that I was in Booth’s arms, curled up on my side, and his wet cock was resting up against my ass cheek.
My heart was still pounding, and there was still a slight roaring in my ear that I only just realized was my heartbeat.
“I think you destroyed me,” he whispered after a few minutes.
I laughed weakly.
“I think that we broke each other then,” I said. “I… that was…” I didn’t know how to put what that was into words.
He did, though.
“The best thing I’ve ever experienced in my life?” He paused. “Because let me tell you something. I’ve been inside your pussy. That’s something great right there. But your ass? It’s a completely new, different, wonderful experience that I’m glad that I get to have for the rest of my life.”
I rolled over in his arms then, my mouth forming a smile.
“For the rest of your life?” I asked huskily.
He nodded once.
“For the rest of our lives,” he said. “That’s where this is going, baby. That’s where it’s been going since the moment that I met you. You’re mine and I’m yours, and that’s the only way it’s ever going to be from now until we die.”
I loved his words.
“I love you.”
He moved until his mouth was pressed to my nose. “I love you, too, Dillan. So much.”
Chapter 14
You just have to take it one ‘are you fucking kidding me’ at a time.
-Booth’s secret thoughts
Booth
“So let me get this straight,” Delanie said crossly. “Our father bailed the man responsible for almost killing you out of jail?”
Dillan nodded.
We’d been avoiding this very conversation. We’d done well at avoiding it, too, until Delanie had heard some news about it today while doing whatever she was doing.
It’d been almost a week since Kerrie had gotten himself sprung from jail, and a week of living life trying not to think about how the piece of shit was out.
The good thing is, I always had a constant idea of where the fucker was located at all times.
Not that Kerrie or anybody else knew that, exactly—well, anybody but Dillan and Bourne. They knew.
I had help. I’d contacted a man named Bruno.
Well, I hadn’t contacted him. Dillan actually had.
She’d become friends with Bruno because he’d come into the shop once a week for years. Eventually, they’d gotten to talking, and she’d learned that he had a friend that was a hacker.
A hacker that seriously didn’t like the justice system, apparently, because he was more than willing to help us in any way he could the moment he heard what Kerrie had done—and how he’d gotten out.
“And…”
Bourne’s and my phone went off simultaneously, signaling an emergency SWAT situation, and interrupting Delanie’s tirade.
“Shit,” I sighed as I stood up with my phone in my hand.
Dillan looked at me worriedly.
“Gotta go,” Bourne said as he started to walk out of the room without another word.
I watched as Delanie’s eyes, the ones that had been avoiding Bourne since they’d walked in the room earlier, followed him.
I ignored them both and went to Dillan. “Don’t wait up for me.”
She pressed her mouth to mine, then said, “Love you.”
I winked at her. “Love you more.”
With that, Bourne and I got into his truck and hit the road.
We arrived at the station in less than five minutes to find almost the entire team there, sans Dax.
But it wasn’t much longer before Dax was there with a ferocious frown on his face.
“I was literally in bed, getting a blissful night’s sleep, which I so desperately need.” He groaned as he stomped in.
“Why do you desperately need it?” I asked curiously as I fitted my new Kevlar vest onto my chest and strapped it on.
“Because Rowen thought she was in labor last night,” Derek said. “But she wasn’t. So they spent half the night in the ER.”
Then Dax had to do a full shift.
That sucked.
“Balls,” I said as I looked at my watch. “And tomorrow is your baby shower. You’ll never get caught up on your sleep again.”
Dax flipped me off and went to his own locker, grabbing his shit and piling it all on top of his clothes.
The rest of us were ready to go, and Dax carried his boots out the door to the armored vehicle.
“What’s going on?” I asked Foster, our team leader.
“What’s going on is a hostage situation at your girl’s donut store,” he said as he put the truck into drive and headed out. “There’s a woman that snuck in the store using a key that was apparently hidden at the back behind a brick. Officers say that the woman is holding a man hostage who’s there to clean.”
I closed my eyes on a groan.
“Son of a bitch.”
The situation turned out to be just as bad as we thought.
When we arrived, Moshe was holding Ken hostage with a butcher knife.
“We gotta get this cleaned up fast,” I found myself saying. “Tomorrow is Dillan’s grand reopening. I’d rather not have to shoot anyone and ruin that for her.”
“No shooting. Got it,” Dax grumbled, wiping his eyes free of sleep.
I rolled mine.
“You’re really going to have to get used to this,” I said. “It’s only going to get worse.”
Dere
k started to chuckle, but I turned my eyes to him.
“You, too, Mr. Chuckles,” I taunted him. “You’re not much farther behind Dax.”
“Don’t call me Mr. Chuckles,” Derek grumbled.
“How about Mr. February?” I teased.
His eyes narrowed. “Not unless you want me to go announcing you’re Mr. June to every fuckin’ person that I can think of.”
I rolled my eyes.
“We should’ve never done that,” I admitted.
The calendars were still fucking selling.
When the idea of the calendars hit, I’d been fresh on the team, and hadn’t really wanted to admit that I didn’t want to do a calendar photo shoot. I should’ve complained.
Even now, six months into the year, the damn things were selling still.
We were now international phenomenons, and people came up to us on the street as if they knew us.
They didn’t.
And it was damn inconvenient to be writing someone a ticket only for them to whip out their calendar and ask you to sign that, too.
“Has anybody noticed that we’re falling for women in the order of the months that we posed for?” Derek asked suddenly. “First it was Dax, then it was me. Followed by…”
I stopped listening because we’d arrived at the donut shop, and a sick feeling of dread latched onto the lining of my stomach and started forcing it to churn.
“And having babies,” Louis said.
I ignored him and everything as we pulled up two blocks away from the donut shop.
There were lights on at the shop, but I could see no movement.
“Who called this in?” I asked curiously.
“The woman, Moshe,” Foster said as he got out and moved around the back to open the door. “She also told us how she got in, so it wasn’t ‘technically breaking and entering.’”
I rolled my eyes and got out, feeling the deep stretch in my legs as I stood straight.
Everything still hurt.
Technically, I was ‘better’ after being shot in the chest a few weeks ago, but every once in a while, certain movements still reminded me that I wasn’t one hundred percent yet.
“I’ll cover the back,” Louis murmured, taking his sniper rifle and moving.
“I think there’s a hotel that you could probably borrow the roof of. Looks right over the back alley. I saw it the night that everything went down with Kerrie,” I said.
Louis nodded and left, leaving Saint to head toward the first cop car he could find and find out more about the scene.
As our hostage negotiator, he was the one that would be doing all the talking.
At least, I hoped so, anyway.
I didn’t know either of the two employees all that well, and it would benefit us all to allow the person that knew what he was doing to talk the girl down.
Only, the moment that we arrived at the command tent, things changed.
“Let me call,” Saint said to the nearest officer. “Someone get me her number?”
The number was given out, and we all moved so that we could better see inside.
It helped that it was dark out and all the lights in the donut shop were on, enabling us to see everything inside.
I could see straight back to the kitchen, and I could clearly see the girl pacing with Ken in a chair in the doorway that separated the front from the kitchen.
He was tied down with what looked like zip ties, and he looked pissed.
Ken was an in shape man, and I was clearly confused on how he ended up in that chair when he should’ve been able to easily overpower her.
“Mrs. Brummel?” Saint’s easy-going, there’s nothing to see here voice said. “This is Saint Nichols, the hostage negotiator with the Kilgore Police Department SWAT Team.”
Since the phone was on speaker, allowing us all to hear what was being said, we all got treated to Moshe’s shriek of outrage.
“This wasn’t how it was supposed to go!”
Then we watched as she took the knife in her hand and hastily sliced her way through the flour that was on the back wall behind Ken’s back.
I winced.
She managed to hit all six bags on the shelf.
Awesome.
“Can I shoot her?” Louis asked. “Because the back door is wide open, and I can see everything. She’s nowhere near him.”
“No,” Foster grumbled. “Chick’s clearly off her rocker. Let’s see if Saint can get anything out of her first.”
Louis sighed. “Sir, yes, sir.”
“Don’t give me that attitude, kid. I used to change your diapers,” Foster muttered, sounding amused.
I rolled my eyes.
He used to change all of our diapers.
“That just makes you old,” Sammy, his nephew, said.
“Shut up, kid,” Foster murmured. “Let’s keep this professional.”
“Let’s get this shit on the road,” I suggested. “My girl’s supposed to be here opening this place up in a few hours.”
“We’re working on it, Mr. Impatient Pants.” Foster chuckled.
I pinched the bridge of my nose.
“Ma’am,” Saint tried again. “We would like a chance to talk to you…”
The woman screamed again, dodged out of sight, and we all heard a loud clang.
“She just knocked over a big bucket of dough that was in the biggest fuckin’ mixer I’ve ever seen,” Louis supplied helpfully.
“Goddammit!”
That was Ken screaming because he was pissed. “Do you know how long that takes to make?”
I felt my lips twitching.
And, like I thought, Ken decided that enough was enough. With two yanks of his hands, he pulled his arms off the chair that he was zip-tied to, stomped out of the front door, and didn’t look back.
“You can’t leave!” Moshe screeched, nearly following Ken out the door.
Ken walked right up to our command tent and crossed his arms.
They bulged in response.
“I waited as long as I could, but that’s going to take me a couple of hours to remake. I need her out,” Ken said. “You’ve got her on breaking and entering, and kidnapping or something, right?”
Saint placed the phone back down and Foster stepped in front.
“We got her. Let’s go get her, boys.”
So that was exactly what we did.
She didn’t come nicely, either.
She came spitting and clawing like a madwoman, swinging the knife like she knew what she was doing with it.
She was easily disarmed, however, and we soon had her face down in the flour that she’d slashed.
She was practically making snow—or flour—angels in the shit.
“Sit still. I don’t want to hurt you,” I muttered darkly.
“I will not!” she hissed.
I cuffed her and then rolled her over onto her back, causing her to grimace when her hands dug into the concrete floor uncomfortably.
She fought for all of a few seconds before she sat there passively.
Her lip quivered and I realized that she was about to cry.
Great.
I sat her up onto her butt and leaned her against the wall before dropping down to her level and staring at her with narrowed eyes.
I felt Foster and Bourne move to my back, listening, but not interrupting.
“Why were you here tonight?” I pinned a glare on Moshe.
Moshe swallowed. “I was told to.”
My brows rose. “You were told to.”
My voice must’ve sounded as incredulous as I’d meant it, because her head drooped more.
“Yes, I was told to.” She drew in a shaky breath. “My husband and I can’t afford the house anymore. Not without me having a job. He paid me…”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” I said as I held up my hands in a stop gesture. “Slow down, start from the beginning. Tell me where this all started.”
I just knew that she was involved in some way with Kerrie.
Knew it with every beat of my heart.
And I wanted to know exactly how and why.
“Four months ago, we were about to lose everything,” she said stiffly. “My husband lost his job because he… he just returned from the war. Something happened over there, I don’t know what, and now he lashes out and is so freakin’ mean.” Moshe wiped at her eyes that were leaking continuous tears. “I never meant to get this deep. I just thought that I could help him.”
At first, I was swept under by her words, but then I saw her surreptitiously glance up through the part in her hair to see if I was buying her explanation.
And, had she not looked up at me, I would have.
I would have fallen for it hook, line, and sinker.
Except she’d fucked up.
She’d messed it all up with one single contemptuous look through her hair that made her actions and her words not match at all.
It was then I realized, in all of her explanation, she never really said anything about why she was here. Who paid her to be here and why she would’ve gone to such extremes.
“What happened after your husband lost his job?” I asked, not being swayed by his veteran status like I was earlier.
She sighed and straightened, her head coming up and her eyes going hard.
“My husband decided that it would be more fun to continue not working, making my lifestyle have to change.” She smirked. “But it all worked out in the end. My husband checked out, became focused inwardly, and I found a very nice man willing to give us a house if I only spied on a certain blonde chick that he had the hots for. In the meantime, we fucked like bunnies.”
My brows rose.
“What else?” I wondered.
“What else?” She laughed. “I was once again proven to be second best. My husband has his nightmares, and Kerrie has Dillan.”
Moshe said ‘Dillan’ like it was the nastiest word in the English dictionary.
“What did she ever do to you?” I pushed.
“What did she do?” Moshe sneered. “She had everything that I wanted, or at least, she could have. But she shoved it all away because Kerrie wasn’t the right guy for her. What kind of bitch does that? He’s rich. He’s successful. He has his shit together. Unlike my husband.”
“That still doesn’t explain what she did to you,” I said. “She was nothing but nice to you. Offered you a job. Kept you hired on. Gave you chance after chance despite you doing everything that you could to make her fire you.” I paused. “That’s what you wanted, huh? You wanted her to fire you.”
Joke's On You- To beta Page 18