Justice for Miranda

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Justice for Miranda Page 9

by Reina Torres


  Trace straightened up to his full height and moved closer so that his knees pressed against the inside of hers, spreading her legs open gently. He worked at the buttons of his shirt, and when he was done, he slipped it off and dropped it down out of sight on the floor.

  She saw the pristine white tank top stretched across his chest and swept her tongue over her bottom lip, tasting anticipation on her skin.

  He may not have been muscled like some men, but there was a sleek grace to his body that reminded her of a panther or jaguar ready to pounce on his prey and devour it whole.

  And she wanted to be devoured.

  Reaching over his head, he swept the tank from his body and dropped it at their feet as he pulled his wallet from his back pocket.

  “One of these days,” he spoke with his eyes on her as his fingers withdrew a condom from the leather billfold, “I’m going to take you bare and I’m going to feel you squeeze every inch of me like a glove.”

  Her hands found her breasts, her fingers pulling at her nipples. “Sooner, rather than later, I hope.”

  He brought the wrapper to his lips and tore it open with his teeth. “Soon… very soon.”

  Trace dropped his hands to his pants and popped the top button free.

  “Don’t stop, darlin’.” He lowered his zipper with a hiss. “Touch yourself for me.”

  She cupped her breasts with her hands while her fingers continued to tug at her nipples. “Like this?”

  He nodded as he pushed the rest of his clothes down to the floor. “Just like that.”

  Miranda heard the dark purr of his voice and smiled. “Come over here. I need you inside of me.”

  Trace straightened up and she got her first real look at his cock. From the dark hairs at its base, to the long curve of its veined thickness, she felt her breaths pant from her lips, her skin flush with need.

  When he set the condom on his tip and used the loose ring of his fingers to push it down, she felt herself shiver from head to toe as he smoothed his hand over his erection.

  She started to draw her knees up to place her feet on the bed, but he stopped her, a hand on each of her thighs.

  “I didn’t tell you to move just yet.”

  Miranda groaned and felt the walls of her sex contract against the emptiness. She wasn’t sure she was going to be able to wait. Just being naked and laid out for him had her dangerously close to the edge.

  He leaned over and grabbed her hips. Trace took a step forward and moved her about a foot onto the bed. The rush of movement under his hands stole her breath. But there wasn’t time enough to recover when he slipped a hand between her thighs and swept two fingers between the swollen lips of her sex.

  Trace looked at the tips of his fingers and smiled. “So wet for me.”

  Hearing those words, purred in his heavy Texas drawl, rocked her hips toward him. “Trace.”

  He climbed up on the bed, his knees between hers, and bracing his left arm at her side he reached down and took his cock in his hand.

  She didn’t move. Didn’t dare.

  Not when she wanted him more than her next breath.

  And she got it. Got him.

  She felt the wide head of his cock slip just past her lips and the way her body tried to pull him in and complete the homecoming it longed for.

  “Look at me, Miranda.” His voice was raw, but clear in its demand. Look at what we look like together.”

  Drawing herself up on an elbow she looked down over her bare breasts and belly and watched as Trace Carson, the lover she’d wanted for years, guided himself into her, inch by perfect inch.

  When he was fully seated in her, he rose up on his arms and looked down into her eyes. “I need you,” the truth of his words were in his voice and the solemn storm of his eyes, “I need you so damn much it scares me.”

  “I’m not scared.” She licked her lips and arched her back until her nipples felt his sparse chest hair like a tentative caress. “Take me over the edge.”

  The smile that crept over his features gave her a little thrill. He could be a devious man when he wanted to be and she was hoping that he’d show her that side of him.

  “Ah,” the sound was pushed from her lips when he thrust into her.

  He bent his elbows and his belly touched hers. Another full thrust and then another moved them both.

  A couple of inches lower and the weight of his hips against hers was more than delicious, it was sinful.

  “Yes,” she couldn’t help but let the word free when she was so close to following it. “More.”

  Again and again he thrust into her, filling her with his cock and all the heady sensations that came with his touch. Over and over, they came together, friction and heat blossoming between them and then she felt the world drop away from beneath her.

  Another thrust and her head fell back and she knew what had happened. They’d reached the edge, but that didn’t stop him.

  It only made him push harder until her shoulders were off the edge too.

  She wasn’t afraid of falling. His weight had her pinned to the bed. Miranda lay her head back as his hips picked up speed, thrusting harder into her.

  The window on the wall was high enough that no one could see the delicious things he was doing to her with each rough growl that passed through his lips. But it was close enough that she could see her reflection in its glassy surface.

  His head hovering over the warm glow of her skin. Silver against gold.

  “Trace?”

  “Y- yeah, darlin’?”

  “I love you, too.”

  He muttered under his breath as his movements stilled. “I don’t deserve you.”

  She might have said something then, but he leaned over and pressed a kiss to the underside of her chin, sinking him in so deep that she shook beneath him.

  His hands grasped the edge of the bed, his knuckles going white with the exertion, and then he lowered his head and took her nipple in his mouth.

  “Oh!”

  Stars. She saw stars.

  At first a little burst, but when he drew his mouth to the tip and set his teeth against her tender flesh, she saw fireworks played out against the dark backdrop of night outside of her window.

  He moved from breast to breast, bringing her to the edge twice before he laid his head against her heart and thrust one more time, his whole body stiffening against and inside of her.

  She felt the rush of his orgasm roll through his body and into hers and together they fell over the edge into release, and still she saw stars.

  Enough for their own universe.

  Chapter 7

  He let her sleep in the next morning.

  It was only fair.

  He’d roused her in the middle of the night, his hands exploring every inch of her supple flesh and the muscles she concealed beneath.

  She’d let him take control then too, holding her legs open while he’d tasted her and drank her release from her lips.

  If he’d worried about his ability to keep up with her, he didn’t anymore.

  Dressed in a t-shirt and lounge pants, he’d pressed a kiss to her lips and left her sound asleep as he descended the stairs to get the coffee started.

  He’d helped her enough over the last few days to know what food went with what animal and the necessary cleaning that was needed in the morning.

  While he was sure that she didn’t lump cleaning kennels in with taking care of her, he was happy to help since he was sure she would be a little tender.

  And the broad grin he wore was all pride.

  When he was in the kitchen, coffee pot started, he turned to look for some idea of what to make for breakfast. He nodded at the rifle he’d set in the shadows beside the door and the extra phone he’d left on the counter.

  The kitchen door was the most direct entrance and he didn’t think the men they were worried about were smart enough to come in from the back. They weren’t smart, but they were ballsy and they had their egos. They’d go in the front.
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  And he was going to be there to stop them.

  He’d left the lights off in the kitchen for safety more than anything else and he was glad there was enough light from the pale lip of dawn that was visible on the horizon to keep him from stubbing his toes against the table leg.

  Taking off his shoes was a testament to how much Miranda had turned his life upside down. Barefoot on the cold tiles of the kitchen floor made him have a little laugh at himself.

  Crossing to the pantry door, Trace opened it up and came face to face with her breakfast cereals. Everything from Grape Nuts to Frosted Flakes, with a quick stop in the area of Quaker Oats, it reminded him that one of Miranda’s favorite meals was breakfast.

  When they’d worked together, she’d bring it to the station and if she had something crunchy, she’d duck into the back room to devour it before she got in the car because she didn’t want to irritate him.

  Reaching for the round container he stopped.

  There was a noise outside.

  Something coming from the rehab office, or near to it.

  He left the cupboard door open and moved closer to the kitchen door.

  Leaning close to the glass he couldn’t seem to make out any distinctive sounds.

  Pulling the curtain flounce aside, he looked out in the driveway. Nothing had changed overnight, but the fact remained that someone was near the rehab office. Opening the heavy bolt lock, he reached out and wrapped his hand around the barrel of the rifle and lifted it into his arms.

  A quick look told him that it was still loaded.

  He looked to the other side of the door where Miranda had left him a pair of slippers beside her own and thought better of it. Slippers would do just that.

  He wanted to be solid on his feet.

  The office door swung shut, almost a slam, and that got him moving. He opened the door with his left and stepped down onto the walkway, raising the rifle to tuck it against his shoulder, and using the barrel to follow the man that was walking away.

  “Stop where you are! Texas State Game Warden, put your hands on your head!” The man stopped and obeyed the order. “Do not lower your hands. Turn around and face me!”

  It only took a moment for him to lift up his foot and turnabout, but it was the face of the man that shocked Trace and made him silent.

  Their ‘guest’ didn’t have a problem speaking.

  “Morning, Trace.” Miranda’s cousin, Jun Tottori was trying to fight off a smile. “Nice to see you again.”

  Quickly scanning the rest of the property, Trace lowered the barrel of the rifle to the ground, but didn’t relax his hold on the weapon, conscious of the danger. “You’re early.”

  Jun laughed. “I’m the one that was just staring down the barrel of the gun but all you’re going to say is, ‘You’re early?’”

  Trace didn’t return the laugh but tilted his head toward the door. “Come on in,” as if Jun needed an invitation, “there’s been a development.”

  Lowering his hands carefully to his sides, Jun walked up to the house and paused only to look at Trace’s bare feet on the walkway. “Huh.”

  Following the veterinarian inside, Trace closed the door and set the locks again and set the rifle down beside the door.

  Jun’s eyes were still on the gun when Trace spoke. “Sorry about the misunderstanding this morning. Miranda had a visitor yesterday.” Jun moved toward the counter where the coffee machine was just starting to drip and took two cups off the ‘tree’ that sat beside the refrigerator. He listened intently as Trace gave him a quick recap of the events.

  When it was done, Jun gave him a look. “You’re going to call her dad, aren’t you?”

  “Not unless she wants me to.” Trace shook his head. “Miranda’s afraid that he’s disappointed in her. Having him around would only upset her.”

  He saw Jun open his mouth to argue and cut him off. “I don’t think that’s how he feels either, but now isn’t the time to call a family meeting. We need to keep her focused and safe until we’re sure that she’s not in danger.”

  Jun leaned against the counter and folded his arms, thinking through Trace’s words. Unlike Miranda, Jun and his sister Suzie held all of the visual markers that said they were Japanese Americans since both of their parents were AJAs, Americans of Japanese Ancestry. Miranda’s father’s side of the family came from Mexico and his darker looks made it difficult for some to pick out Miranda’s racial heritage, but standing there, watching Jun, he saw a deep resemblance in the way they thought through their problems.

  They both settled into an almost placid expression when they were mulling over something.

  As they waited for the coffee to fill the carafe, they heard some noise on the stairs.

  Trace’s smile would have been impossible to hide if Jun had turned to look, but the other man was focused on the stairs just as much as Trace was.

  And it was because of that, they both saw Miranda’s bare legs a second before they saw the rest of her, in Trace’s open game warden shirt, with not a stitch of clothing on underneath.

  “Hey, Trace, do I smell coffee? Just what I’ve wanted in a man, hard and helpful in the kitchen, I-”

  Trace wasn’t quite sure who had flushed the darkest, Miranda or her cousin. He didn’t quite get a good look at either of them, because as soon as Miranda could get a grip on the railing, she dashed back upstairs with a horrified squeak of sound.

  The two men looked at each other.

  Trace swallowed and gestured after her. “Do you want to check on her?”

  Jun’s eyes widened at the suggestion. “I should be asking you why my cousin is wearing, and I use that term loosely, your clothes this early in the morning.”

  The coffee pot beeped to say that it was done.

  Picking up the carafe by the handle, he poured a cup for himself and set the carafe back down, ignoring Trace’s expectant look. “Now if you insist,” he smiled and inhaled the scent of the brew, “I could always call my aunt and uncle and ask if they know that you’re-”

  “I say we just let her have a minute and wait until she comes down on her own.”

  Jun almost choked on the first sip of his coffee. “Chicken.”

  “Takes one to know one.”

  When it came down to it, Miranda ignored the coffee altogether. She’d put on her own clothes and pulled on her work boots while she sat on the bench outside the door. While the men waited for her to gather herself together.

  Thankfully, Jun started to talk before they were even walking.

  “I got a call from a game warden that I’ve helped out a few times and she needed help with a wood stork.” He paused at the door and turned back. “He’s a little testy, so let’s keep the noise and movement down to a minimum.”

  Miranda glared at her cousin. They all knew better.

  Jun opened the door and stepped inside.

  The light in the room at the moment was a warm natural light, something that Miranda and Jun had decided to try. Unless the animal needed some kind of extremely delicate procedure or something of the like, they thought that the natural light would be a better environment and so far it had worked really well.

  And when they entered the room, the male stork gave a sharp call and fluttered his one good wing.

  Jun looked at her. “I’m going to need your help while I splint it.”

  She nodded, eager for the work. “I can feed and clean after if you want to get started.”

  “I can get that started while you two are in here.”

  Miranda turned and gave Trace a big smile. Forgotten was the fact that he’d let her sleep in, mainly because she knew he was trying to take care of her. Reaching out, she touched his arm and couldn’t help giving his bicep a little squeeze.

  The thoughts of his arms and all of his other parts made her cheeks heat.

  Jun cleared his throat. “Sorry to interrupt.”

  Miranda turned back to her cousin and stuck out her tongue at him.

  “R
eal mature, cuz.”

  Trace left the room, the house keys in his hand.

  “So, are you going to tell me what’s going on here?”

  “Nope, because you asked for help with the crane, not gossip.”

  He looked affronted for a moment as he pulled on his gloves, but that didn’t last long. “I’ll just tell Suzie you have a secret, the information will be mine by midnight.”

  Miranda brought over the tray of supplies to make a splint and shook her head. “If she tried to call me tonight, she’ll be out of luck. I have company, remember?”

  “Company that got you naked,” he shot back. “Hey, before we do the splint, I need you to get me the sharpest shears we have.”

  She narrowed a look at him. “What’s that for?”

  Jun gestured at the base of the kennel. “When we got to him, he was trying to bite the GPS bracelet off. It looks like he’s come close to it. The last thing we want is for him to swallow the thing.”

  Miranda leaned down and saw the bracelet on the stork’s leg. It was battered and twisted. There looked to be barely a hairsbreadth of material left. “It would probably tear up his insides.”

  “That’s what I figured. So, I called the university program that’s in charge of the tags and they said to go ahead and snip it off. They’ll send over a replacement collar in the next few days. Once we get that we can put it on and he’ll be ready to go as soon as that wing heals up.”

  Picking up the shears with the tiny needle-like ends, Miranda waited for Jun to reach into the kennel and gather the stork up safely in his hands.

  He spoke softly to the bird, holding it carefully in the circle of his arm as she walked up out of the bird’s sight line.

  Luckily the bird had done quite a bit of work on the bracelet and the plastic band wasn’t tight around his leg.

  She just had to wait for the right moment and… snip.

  It fell to the floor and bumped and twisted until it came to a stop. Miranda reached over and picked it up. “Got it.” She stepped back away from the bird doing a little hip-sway and set the shears down out of the way. Finally, she put the GPS tracker on a little metal tray.

 

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