Down and Dirty

by Christine Bell

  behind, spreading her wide. The thick head of his cock probed her slit, up and down, spreading her slick juices around her overheated flesh. Unable to take any more teasing, she flexed back against him, taking him deep. He tipped his hips forward until he was flush against her. For a moment, she forgot to breathe. The fullness was a double-edged sword. It was so sublime she almost wept, but at the same time it was torturous, turning want into a blaze of white-hot need.

  “Please,” she whispered.

  He didn’t answer, choosing to respond with his body. He pulled back, then arched forward, filling her again in an erotic slide. He repeated the motion, working in and out in slow, measured thrusts. She scrabbled at the tile, her hands like talons as he took her higher, luring her closer to the precipice. He rode her hard, with deep, steady strokes that curled her toes. He shifted, pushing her forward until every lunge ground the root of his cock hard against her aching clit. The sensation roared through her, like a train at full speed.

  “I’m going to come,” she groaned.

  He encouraged her with murmured words, quickening his pace until the wave slammed into her, wrecking her. Her body felt as if it were made of light as the tremors shook her. She dimly heard him calling her name.

  “That’s it. God, so tight.” On a shout, he tumbled after her. His cock pulsed deep inside her, and she held on as his body shook behind hers.

  Pure satisfaction coursed through her when he leaned forward, draping his torso over her back. His heart beat a rapid tattoo against her spine, and she smiled.

  When they were both able to breathe, he pulled away. He flipped off the shower and reached for her, scooping her in his arms.

  She squealed, laughing as he carried her into the bedroom. “We’re soaking wet, and that’s a four-hundred-dollar silk comforter! Don’t even think of dropping me on that.”

  He set her gently on the floor and went back into the bathroom, returning with some towels a few seconds later. “Dry off while I go get our forgotten snacks.”

  Ten minutes later, replete with her lunchbox sandwich and great sex, she slipped back into the bed. “Delicious,” she groaned with a satisfied stretch. And it was. She replayed the night in her mind and shivered. Had she really thought of him as boring? God, she couldn’t have been more wrong.

  He settled in behind her and wrapped his arm around her waist. “I’m glad you liked it.”

  She traced his muscled forearm and marveled at how happy and settled she felt. The usual urge to run away was nowhere to be found. In fact, she wanted nothing more than to snuggle in tighter and sleep in his arms. Maybe this could work, after all. Just maybe…

  Her mind wandered, fantasies of them vacationing on a tropical island and skiing together in Vermont ran through her head.

  “Do you scuba dive?” she asked.

  No response.

  “Shane?”

  She turned to look at him and realized he was dead asleep. His deep, even breaths—almost like a soft snore—had her grinning. They could talk tomorrow. She’d grill him about his date with Courtney and see if maybe he’d consider putting a hold on his MeetMyMate.com membership until they had a chance to explore this thing between them.

  Thing? It’s love, you idiot.

  The unbidden thought sent her pulse racing with terror, and she waited for the need to flee. But it never came. Was it possible that she’d found a man who was worth risking it for? A man who knew exactly who she was and who wasn’t intimidated by it? There was no way to know for sure, but for the first time in her life, she found herself wanting to see if this could go somewhere. If they could stick. She tucked in tighter, making herself the little spoon. Tomorrow, she would make Lacey proud and open up to a man for the first time in her life.

  She closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep, visions of Shane in her head.

  Chapter Eleven

  Light streamed through the window, and Shane cursed under his breath at a persistent buzzing noise.

  “Are you going to get that?” Cat’s muffled voice came from beneath a mountain of blankets, and he grinned. She was curled into a ball and almost invisible, with only a few rusty curls poking out from the top of her makeshift fort.

  “Yeah, I was dead to the world. Didn’t even realize it was my phone.” He lifted the covers and gave her bare bottom a pat before rolling off the bed. He’d barely taken a step when he tripped over the mound of clothes littering the beige carpet. “Don’t you have a closet for this stuff?”

  “Doesn’t all fit.”

  He pushed the pile aside with his foot and glanced at the clock. Almost 9:00 a.m. The last time he’d slept that late had been in college. By the time he found his jeans and dug his phone out of his pocket, the call had gone to voice mail. Good. With Cat still warm and sleepy, maybe he could—

  The phone buzzed in his hand and he bit back a curse. He peered down at the number. Galen. He spared a glance at Cat and held up a finger. His buddy was on board with the idea of them dating, but he probably didn’t need to know that Shane had spent the night.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey, it’s Galen.” His friend’s voice sounded strange, and Shane tensed instantly.

  “What’s going on, man?”

  “Lacey and I are on our way to New York City for the weekend, but Rafe asked me to give you a call when I told him you were in town.” If Galen’s tone had been strained before, it was even more so now. “Shit, man, there’s a child missing in Caseville. Grace Abbott, four years old. The Abbotts have a cottage on Elmer Lake. They need volunteers, like now.”

  Shane’s stomach clenched. Kids missing near lakes were always scary.

  “They went to bed last night, kids tucked in and all was well,” Galen continued. “This morning, they woke around seven-thirty when they felt a draft coming from under their bedroom door. Gracie was gone and the front door was wide open. The PD is already on the scene, and Rafe is putting together a search party. He asked if you could make it over there to help.”

  Shane stalked to the window and shoved the curtains aside. Fat flakes of snow fell to the already-covered ground. Fuck. He speared a hand through his hair and started running scenarios in his head. They went from bad to unthinkable, depending on how small the child was, what she’d been wearing, and what the temperature was when she left the house. Had someone taken her? Had she seen something out her window and gone to explore? Maybe she’d managed to find shelter somewhere and was huddled up with a stuffed animal or her favorite blanket. He refused to even think about the lake.

  Shane juggled the phone and dragged his jeans on. “Are there signs of an abduction?”

  “Shane? What’s going on?” Cat sat up on the bed, her face drained of color.

  He covered the receiver and explained quickly. “There’s a missing girl in Caseville. I’m going to join the search party to help find her.” He turned his attention back to Galen on the telephone.

  “They said that kidnapping looks unlikely at this point. Only one tiny set of prints in the snow leading from the house into the woods. Unfortunately, they get sporadic from there once the canopy of evergreens shields large sections of the forest floor.”

  “Okay, give Rafe a call back and tell him I’ll be there ASAP.”

  Cat stood, wrapping a sheet around her and started for the bathroom. “I’m coming, too. I want to help.”

  He relayed that to Galen who, to his credit, didn’t ask why he was with Cat so early in the morning. “They have five guys from the precinct there now,” Galen said, “but the rest of the volunteers are neighbors and family, so I know they’ll appreciate your expertise.”

  He gave Shane the address and they disconnected. By the time he got his socks and shoes on, Cat was coming out of the bathroom fully dressed.

  “Make sure you put on snow boots.”

  “What about you?” she asked, peering down at the dress shoes he’d worn for his date the night before.

  “No time. I’ll be fine.”

  She

looked like she wanted to argue but then nodded. “Let’s go.”

  The twenty-minute ride felt like an eternity, and in spite of her efforts to fill the heavy silence, he could feel the rising tension between them. He wished he knew why, or how to stop it, but right now, every ounce of his energy needed to be focused on Grace Abbott. Gracie, Galen had called her.

  Gracie, whom they would find alive and well.

  “It’s this left,” Cat said, pointing to a narrow, snow-covered road marked Pawtuck 7-15.

  He made the turn and pulled up to the small house where a dozen people stood in a half-circle around Rafe, who was handing out sheets of paper.

  He and Cat exited the car and approached the group.

  “Thanks for coming, guys, much appreciated.” Rafe gestured for Shane to stand next to him, and Cat moved to line up with the other civilian volunteers.

  Shane scanned the group, taking in the expectant faces pinched with worry. His old friend continued in an authoritative, steady tone. “This is Shane Decker. Shane is a specialist and has traveled all over the world developing search-and-rescue procedures for government and private organizations alike, as well as spearheading rescues for countless global disasters. We’re very lucky to have him here today to help us find little Gracie.”

  He turned to Shane and handed him a map. “We have one group out now—ten people including the parents—with our field officers, and a three-man crew of park rangers from the fish and game department. They’re focusing on the perimeter of the lake.”

  The group was dressed appropriately, thank God, and seemed highly motivated and ready to listen. He took a long look at the map before addressing them.

  “That’s a good start,” Shane said with a nod. “If she’s already gotten to a main road, which seems unlikely, there’s a better chance of her being found or seen. So, for now, we’re going to start with the three square miles of wooded terrain surrounding the house. If we work in ever-widening circles around the lake rather than taking a few square acres at a time, we’ll form a virtual net of eyes and ears. That way, if she’s still on the move, it will minimize the chance of her always being one section ahead of or behind us.”

  The volunteers murmured and nodded.

  Several officers exited the cottage, and an older woman followed to stand on the porch. Her arms were crossed over her chest tight, and her face was a mask of grief.

  Rafe followed his line of sight and pursed his lips. “That’s the grandmother, Maggie Abbott. She’s not in the best of health but wanted to come and help. She’s going to stay at the house and wait in case Grace finds her way back.”

  “Cat, can you go with Maggie and see if the two of you can set up a hot drink and food station for the team? It could be a while and in these temperatures, people are going to have to rest, warm up, and refuel. Maybe also see if you can dig up spare sets of gloves, hats, and scarves in case things get wet or lost?”

  Cat’s eyes narrowed, but she nodded briskly and crunched through the snow toward Maggie. He watched her receding back, saying one more silent prayer for Gracie. He’d sent Cat to be with the grandmother partly for the reason he’d said, and partly because Maggie Abbott clearly needed a strong shoulder. But if he was being honest with himself, there was a far bigger reason.

  He scanned the volunteers and swallowed the bile that rose in his throat. One of these people would find Gracie. He knew it as sure as he knew his own name because he wouldn’t sleep until they did. What he didn’t know was whether she would be alive or dead.

  Sometimes he fucking hated this job.

  “Okay, team. Here’s how we’re going to do it.”

  …

  Cat stared out the window while stirring the pot of hot chocolate on the stove. It had been three hours, and soon, another major storm was set to pass through. The teams had made a full pass through the woods to no avail, aside from a tiny red boot that had been found on one of the trails an hour before. Shane had doubled the number of people searching that area, but so far, they hadn’t heard any news.

  “We’ve got four coming in right now,” Maggie called from the front door.

  Cat ran over to stand next to her, trying to make out the silhouettes in the distance. No Shane. He had only come in once since they’d arrived, and that had only been to fill a thermos full of coffee and go back out. She tamped down the worry, reminding herself for the hundredth time that he was the expert. He’d know when it was time to take a break. She went back into the kitchen to ladle up four steaming mugs of cocoa and then set them on the table.

  Maggie bustled in a moment later and grabbed a log from the woodpile near the door. “I’m going to build up the fire a bit.”

  Cat nodded. “Good idea.” She watched Maggie struggle with the log through the doorway to the living room, but knew better than to offer to help. Somehow, right from the get-go, Shane had known that Maggie needed a job to do, and had Cat give her one that she was taking very seriously. In the midst of this horrifying, chaotic event in her life, he’d given her a purpose, and Cat was fairly certain that purpose was the only thing holding the older woman together right now.

  She glanced at the clock again and bit her lip. Maggie wasn’t the only one having a hard time keeping it together. In the hours since Gracie’s disappearance, Cat had met her parents, seen the wear on their faces, watched friends and family file in and out, getting more despondent with every passing hour. She’d listened to Maggie tell story after story about her “little love bug.” The first time Gracie had said “grandma,” which came out more like “gamma” and had stuck to this day. The way she loved to play tea party with her dolls, only instead of tea, they had soup because tea was yucky.

  As the day progressed and the stories got too hard to tell, Maggie would disappear for a while and Cat would pace around the small cottage, trying not to look at the family photos plastering the walls, slowly driving her insane. Gracie as a chubby toddler in her swimmies on the pier. Gracie on Christmas morning surrounded by gifts, doe-like brown eyes full of wonder. Gracie in her little blue coat by the lake feeding the ducks.

  Cat squeezed the bridge of her nose and swallowed hard.

  “You okay?”

  She dashed the tears from her eyes and turned to find Rafe standing by the table cupping a mug of cocoa in a gloved hand. She hadn’t even heard him come in.

  “Yeah, I’m good. Fine. You?”

  He nodded grimly. “Yeah. Just fine.”

  Neither of them was fine. She needed only to look at the tightness around his mouth and feel the mounting sense of hopelessness hanging between them, unspoken, to know it.

  She cleared her throat to dislodge the lump that had wedged itself there. “It’s getting really cold out there. Maybe I should spell one of the search party members who’ve been out all day and someone can come in here? The parents haven’t stopped since this morning.” She wrapped her arms around her shoulders to chase away the shiver that went through her every time she thought of little Gracie out there in the cold for more than five hours.

  Rafe shrugged and looked away. “The Abbotts won’t come in until Gracie’s been found. The rest of the crew is dressed for the weather, and it’s stopped snowing, so overall, not too bad as far as cold goes. Plus, you’re doing a great job and I think it’s better for Maggie if you’re here now that you have a rapport.”

  “Whatever you think is best.” She wasn’t about to argue with him. She only wanted to help. Still, something in his face—

  Frantic shouts from outside and Rafe’s suddenly beeping radio urged them to rush to the front door. Cat’s heart pounded in her chest when they stepped onto the porch and scanned the yard. Three adult silhouettes ran through the snowy woods in the distance, the largest cradling a small, motionless figure.

  “Oh sweet Jesus.” Maggie stood in the doorway, face drained of color. “Please, God, please no.”

  The shouts grew louder and moving shapes became clearer. Shane. It was Shane, and he had Gracie in his arms wrapped in a blanket, one red boot sticking out of the bottom.

  One of the three, a female volunteer, broke away, sprinting toward the house. Tears streamed unchecked down her face. “She’s alive, she’s going to be okay!”

  Maggie let out a sob and rushed down the stairs. Rafe followed after her, taking her arm to help her traverse the snowy ground. Cat looked on from the porch, gripping the railing like a lifeline, as Shane strode up to the child’s grandmother and lifted the blanket away from Gracie’s face.

  “She’s exhausted. Still dehydrated and won’t drink much. She’s got a moderate case of hypothermia, but I saw no signs of frostbite. An ambulance will be here in five minutes or less to take her to the hospital and have her checked out.”

  Maggie dropped her head onto Gracie’s chest. “Thank you, thank you,” she murmured over and over, wrapping her arms around her granddaughter and the man who had brought her home.

  “Did someone notify the parents yet?” Rafe asked.

  Shane nodded, pulling away from Maggie. “Yes. We called them, and they’re en route now. They were about a mile out, so they’ll be here any minute. Maggie,” he said gently, “let’s get her inside near the fire until the ambulance comes, all right?”

  Maggie straightened and took a shuddering breath. “Of course, of course, come on.”

  She gripped Shane’s elbow like she couldn’t bear to lose contact and led them up the stairs to where Cat stood looking on. He searched her face. “You okay?”

  She pasted on a reassuring smile. “I’m great.” But that was a lie. She peered down at Grace’s face, pink and so very alive, and her relief was so all-encompassing that her legs could barely hold her. She was a nanosecond away from breaking into gut-wrenching sobs, but managed to hold it together through sheer force of will. She followed them into the house, joined by the rescue crews and police officers who had begun trickling in from the woods.

  The chatter was jubilant and incessant coming from all directions, but Cat was able to piece together that Gracie had heard a noise outside in the wee hours of the morning and hoped it was Santa coming again. She’d donned her boots and went outside to follow the sounds but, with the snow falling, had quickly gotten lost. At some point, she came across a ground-level wooden hunting blind about a mile from the cottage. She went inside, burrowed beneath an old wool blanket she found on the floor, and fell asleep. One of the volunteers had passed the blind and even approached to look inside, but didn’t see the tiny girl under the dirty old blanket. Luckily, when Shane heard about the boot being found, he went back to the area and saw the blind as well.

  “Thank you for coming with me.” Shane had come up behind her and laid a hand on her shoulder. “You did a really great job holding Maggie together.”

  “Thanks.” She turned to face him, barely resisting the urge to trace the lines of tension bracketing his mouth. “It’s okay now. You did it. She’s home.”

  “Yeah. And I’m very relieved. It just…brings back memories of the times that didn’t turn out as well.” His intense eyes grew dark, and she wanted to comfort him, but felt so fragile herself that if she did they might both fall apart. She needed to get out of this place, and fast. Go home, cry it out. Burrow under a blanket herself until she could face the world again.

  The sound of a siren wailed in the distance. “We should go, let the family take care of her now,” Shane said, jutting his chin toward the door.

  “Sounds like a good idea.”

  She followed him to the closet for her coat, where they were met by Rafe. He put a hand on Shane’s shoulder. “You were a lifesaver today, man. Literally. I appreciate you coming out.”

  “Your team is great. You guys would have found her without me, but I’m glad I was here to help.”

  Rafe shook his head. “I don’t know if that’s true, but thanks for saying so. I’d like to talk to you about some training in the future, when you’re back for good and settled in.”

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  By tacit agreement, she and Shane slipped out without saying good-bye to the Abbotts. Their full attention needed to be on Gracie right now.

  By the time they got to the truck, the adrenaline that had been sustaining her drained from her body, leaving her exhausted.

  “I didn’t even do anything, and I feel like I need to sleep for a week.” She wrapped her arms around her shoulders and shivered, the cold seeming to penetrate into her very bones.

  “You did plenty,” he assured her, tugging his gloves off and setting them on the console between them. They were wet, and his hands were bone white. She took one in hers and gasped.

  ”Jesus, your hands are like ice and your gloves are wet. Can you even feel your fingers? And your feet must be soaked through.”

  He pulled away from her and got his keys from his pocket to start the engine. “I’m fine,” he insisted. “I’ve been way colder than this before.”

  Anger sent a welcome blast of heat and energy through her. “Is that supposed to make me feel better? You could have gotten frostbite. Why didn’t you come in for a break to warm up and get some dry gloves and socks, at least?”

  He sighed and pulled the truck from the driveway. “Time wasn’t on our side. We needed one crew to continue the sweep so we could make sure to get the whole area again before the next storm, and we needed another to focus on the area around the boot. It was more important for the people less accustomed to the prolonged cold to take breaks, and I didn’t want to leave either crew shorthanded.”

  “If you needed more bodies out there, why didn’t you let me come out to help? I asked Rafe, and he—”

  Shane’s face went notably blank, and his fingers clenched the wheel more tightly, sending a trickle of dread down her spine.

  “Tell me you didn’t convince Rafe to keep me inside because you didn’t want my dainty little self to catch a chill.” If the air was cold, her tone was arctic.

  He turned the heat on without a word and it blasted tepid air.

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