by Jen Talty
“I think I’m getting ready to make you cum again.” He shoved a couple of fingers inside her.
“Oh…ah…” She tossed her head back, reaching her hand around his neck. His lips kissing her earlobe, making her body shiver in anticipation. “Maybe we should go back to the bedroom?”
“I want you here. Like this.” He fingered her with one hand, while the other plucked and pinched her nipples, bringing them to tight, throbbing nubs.
“Condom,” she said with ragged breath, clenching her insides tightly around his fingers as he continued to ease his way in and out.
“I brought one.” He pinched her nipple, twisting to the right.
“Yes…” she breathed out. She no longer had control over her body as she moved her hips with his fingers. The need for him to take her body, claim her, choked her common sense. “I want you inside me now.”
A deep growl vibrated against her ear as his hot breath tickled her skin. He pressed his erection against her ass, bare skin to bare skin. She spread her legs a little wider, bending at the waist.
“Take me now.” She’d never been one to beg for anything. Begging wasn’t in her wheelhouse. If she had to beg for something it wasn’t worth it.
He was most definitely worth begging for.
With labored breath, he backed away, his hands brushing against her ass as he wrapped himself with protection.
She gripped the counter top with one hand, her other still wrapped around his neck. “Please…oh God,” she screamed as he rammed himself inside her so fast and hard she had to brace herself with both hands.
“Hold still.” He kept himself deep inside her as he reached around and ran his fingertips across her hard nub.
Her body shivered. Her muscles tightened. She tried to stay still, but she wanted to feel him move inside her as she squeezed him as tight as she could.
“Do I have to beg again?” She squirmed, but he still wouldn’t stroke her.
“Beg all you want, babe, it won’t change how we’re going to do this.”
His fingers were like magic, working her into a frenzy. He’d switch between slow and light, too fast and hard, driving her body and mind crazy. The moment she’d be near the edge, he’d change it up, doing something different.
She clutched her insides as tightly as she could around him, then released before doing it again, and again, creating as much friction as she could. With each squeeze, he’d moan, rubbing her just a little harder.
“Please…” her plea came out more as a throaty groan.
He chuckled in her ear. His large hand covering both her breasts, toying with her nipples.
Gripping the counter, she squirmed, determined to make him stroke her, but all he did was pinch her hard nub.
“Oh…God.” The orgasm started at her toes, rippling across all her muscles. She slammed her fist into the counter, while he gripped her hips, finally slamming into her, creating multiple mini convulsions on top of the wickedest, most intense, orgasm known to mankind.
He grunted as he pumped faster. His lips on her shoulder, kissing and licking wildly until she felt him explode. She actually worried the condom might break.
With her elbows on the counter, he continued to slowly stroke her. His long fingers glided down her spine and massaged the top of her ass. She wanted to look over her shoulder and tell him to spank her, but no way would she. Hell, she didn’t even know if she liked to be spanked.
He smacked her ass with the palm of his hand. Not hard, but with enough vigor it made a loud noise.
“I can’t believe you just did that,” she said, her breathing still labored.
“Sorry. I won’t do it again.” His hand smoothed over the spot where she wondered if it were a little pink.
“No, that’s not what I meant.” She let her forehead drop to the counter. No man she’d ever been with had been as demanding, yet giving, rough, yet tender while having mad, passionate sex for the sake of sex. “I had been wondering what that would have been like, then you did it.”
She sighed, feeling her wetness drip down her legs when he pulled out. The sound of the faucet running reminded her she was bent over the kitchen counter, with her bare ass in the air.
“Whoa,” she said, feeling a wet cloth between her legs. “Oh…thanks,” she whispered.
“You’re welcome.”
Glancing over her shoulder, Tristan held up her panties and boxers. “You were actually thinking you might like it if I spanked you?” he asked with an arched brow.
Nodding, she hiked up the boxers, balling the panties in her hand. “Do you have a plastic bag I can put these in?”
He smiled. “I’ll wash them for you.”
She wanted to protest but was too stunned as he took them from her hand. “I think you’ve been lying to me about your problems with women.” Reaching under her shirt, she clasped her bra and stared at him as he closed the bathroom/laundry room door. “Other than some women might not like your tastes in bed, you really are adorable.”
He laughed. “Because every guy wants to be called adorable.” He poured himself a cup of coffee, raising the pot in her direction and she nodded. “I can’t say I’m usually that aggressive and honestly, I don’t take all the women I date to bed.”
“Are you serious?” Their fingers glided against each other as he passed her the mug, sending a tiny wave of desire across her belly.
“In the last year, I’ve had sex three times, not including being with you.” He took a sip of his coffee. “I’ve taken maybe fifteen girls out on dates, but I’ve only slept with one other woman, besides you in this last year.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
He set his mug down and folded his arms across the chest. “About this time last year, without getting into all the crazy details, I dated a woman who turned out to be working for a man who wanted to kill Josh and Delaney.”
“That’s fucked up.”
He nodded. “I really liked her. But she played me and that just brought up all that weird shit about Brenda, so I didn’t date for a long time.” Tristan ran a hand over his head. “I promised to be myself with you, so here goes nothing.”
She swallowed, wondering if this was going to be the moment he crashed and burned.
“Just now, I sensed you wanted me to pat your ass. Not hard. Not enough to hurt, but something you wanted.”
“I don’t know why I wanted it. Kind of silly.”
“It’s not silly. Smacking someone’s ass is generally affectionate.” He titled his head. “You don’t think it’s weird that I sensed that? Or last night, that I knew you’d untie me as soon as I asked? Because otherwise, I would never have let you do it in the first place.”
Her heart pounded in steady beats. “Are you saying you sense this stuff with every woman you sleep with?”
“Not really. Not like with you where it’s so tight it feels natural. That’s only happened with you. It’s impossible to explain without sounding like an ass.”
“Try me,” she said.
“I can sense things with people I’m close to, like family, though it’s nothing like what I felt with Tamara. But with you, it’s different.”
“Can I ask you something?” Minoring in Psychology had been helpful in her sales job, but not so much anywhere else in her life.
“Ask me anything.”
“Do you like being in crowds?”
He furrowed his brow. “Hate them. Why?”
“I have noticed you’re an introverted kind of guy, in general, but I also think you have great empathy.”
“What does this have to do with anything?”
Talk about something that was impossible to explain. “I suspect crowds bother you because you feel every single emotion in the crowd. It’s brain overload.”
“Now you sound like my mother.”
“My job has always required me to be a good read of people. In sales, I do that very well. In my personal life, I’ve always tried not to be like that, which is why
I ignored the signs that Larry was cheating.” She breathed in deeply, letting it out slowly. “I want to say something to you, but I don’t want you to get mad or upset.”
“Say it,” he said it as a command, even though his tone was soft.
“You told me when Tamara died, something snapped, and part of you went with her.” Tentatively, she moved across the kitchen and rested her hand on the center of his chest. “I believe the whole twin thing. I also believe there are people we have deep connections with, mine was with my grandmother. It’s weird, my entire life, she’d look at me, and I sense this great burden she carried, but I never knew what it was. I think your twin connection helped to make that stronger with anyone you care about, or want to care about, and that scares you. But the bigger problem is not knowing if they have that same intuition about you.”
He laced his fingers around her wrist and kissed the palm of her hand. “Talk about psycho-babble bullshit.”
“Your problem with women isn’t because you’re not what everyone thinks romantic should be, or that you like to talk dirty when you get laid, or whatever. Your problem is, you don’t think someone will be connected to you again. Might have started with Tamara’s death, but Brenda killed it.”
“Maybe.”
“Maybe my ass.”
He circled his arms around her waist, drawing her against his chest. “I like your ass.”
“Now you’re changing the subject.” She pounded his chest. “And we’re not going another round because I can barely walk as it is.”
He tossed his hands wide. “If I had made any mention of having that kind of effect on a woman after a night of tantalizing love-making, I’d get slapped.”
“Yes, you would.” She leaned up and kissed his cheek. “Time for me to take my stroll down the walk of shame avenue.”
Chapter 8
Tristan stood at the printer in the Trooper satellite office, hands looped into his belt, tapping his fingers against the leather as the paper slowly appeared in the tray. Twelve pages of forensics on one piece of paper along with six more on a skeletal key. He looked over his shoulder sensing his boss, Jared Blake approaching.
“I need a minute,” Jared said as he leaned against the wall. His wide, muscular frame intimated everyone. But it was his serious facial expressions, never letting anyone know what he was thinking, that made him the most frightening man Tristan had ever served under. Only, once you got to know Jared, you quickly found out he was a fair man with a big heart.
“I know I shouldn’t have asked our team to take a look at these items from Rusty’s granddaughter.” Tristan figured best not to beat around the bush.
“What lab rats do on their own time is none of my business.” Jared arched a brow. “They didn’t use state resources, right?”
“No.” The printer shot out another piece of paper, five more to go. “Except the paper it’s being printed on.”
“Fair enough.” Jared had been the Sergeant in charge for about thirteen years now. He ran a tight ship, but he treated every single one of his troopers as family. “I’ve met Brooke a few times when she was little. My sister babysat for them a few times. The Fowler’s were always a nice family, but they never really socialized with the neighbors.”
“But he was such a friendly man, at least to me,” Tristan said.
The last paper shot out of the printer. Tristan gathered them, tapping the bottom of the pages on the table, making sure they were straight.
“Let’s take this in my office,” Jared said. “Sutten!”
Stacey stepped from the small reception office. “I’ve been married for seven years. The last name is Tanner.” She tapped her name tag. “How many times do I have to tell you people that.”
“You’ll always be little fouled mouth Sutten to me,” Jared said taking the stack of papers. “Make two copies of these, then read it. When you’re done, come into my office and tell us what you think.”
Stacey rolled her eyes. “Doug told me being second meant being your lackey.”
“Damn straight.” Jared laughed. “But I’m thinking retiring on my fiftieth birthday, then you can get your own lackey.”
“Does Ryan know? Because I think your wife would strangle you if you were under her foot all day.” Stacey took the papers. “Anything else?”
“That’s it.” Jared smiled.
Tristan followed Jared into the office. While he appreciated another set of eyes on the reports, he wanted to sit down and look at them before heading home. He took the seat in front of Jared’s massive desk.
“Did you known Brooke’s grandmother had a catering service?” Jared eased into his office chair, leaning back and clasped his hands behind his head. His standard position when shooting the shit.
“Rusty mentioned it a time or two.”
“My mother loved Ashley’s cooking. Every event my mother had, Ashley almost always catered, but because of something old lady Ramsworth said, Ashley’s business took a big hit and she lost a lot of customers, but she still managed to maintain a few loyal patrons, and my mom said she was busy enough.”
“What did Mrs. Ramsworth say?” Tristan asked, knowing it wasn’t good.
“A. Bad service. Bad food. Stealing.”
“Stealing what?” Tristan rubbed the back of his neck.
“I can dig up the police report, but it said a set of emerald earrings and a thousand in cash went missing during a party Ashley catered.”
“During a party? Anyone could have pocketed those items. Along with any of the other staff.”
“That’s what I told them, but they insisted it was her.”
“You investigated this?” Tristan asked.
“I was a rookie and happened to have stopped off at home to get some dinner, so I was two minutes away when the call came in.” Jared dropped his elbows to the desk, leaning forward. “That wasn’t the first-time old lady Ramsworth accused Ashley or Rusty of doing something.”
Tristan didn’t like the pattern that had started to develop. “Wendell and his grandmother showed up at Brooke’s the other morning accusing her grandmother of stealing some heirloom necklace. They said the one that Brooke wears all the time went missing when Ashley had been working as a cook for them.”
“My mother told me that Ashley and...what is the old lady’s name?” Jared looked toward the ceiling. “Georgina? Yeah. That’s it. Anyway, they went to middle school or something together and at one time were friends.”
“Can’t picture that woman being friends with anyone who can’t afford their own private plane.”
Jared laughed. “She didn’t come from money, she married it and she’s had that chip on her shoulder ever since. My mother told me she’d be at parties with her, and she’d be going on and on about her childhood and living abroad, and all sorts of fabrications. No one called her on it, except my mother, who then became the brunt of a few rumors herself. My favorite being my father had another family in Canada.”
“You’re serious?” Tristan shook his head. “I feel like I just walked in on a bunch of high school girls gossiping.”
“I know.” Jared ran a hand down his face, drawing his thumb and forefinger over the shape of chin. “My family has avoided the Ramsworth’s and their kind for years, only dealing with them when we had to.”
“I really only have a beef with one of them: Wendell.” Tristan shook his head. “His wife and Brooke used to be best friends.”
“I’d heard that,” Jared said. “I need you to watch your back with that one, got it?”
Tristan nodded. “So, why do you think the Ramsworth’s had it in for Rusty’s wife?”
“That’s the million-dollar question. My mom enjoyed Ashley and often asked about the conflict, but Ashley would smile and say that Georgina was the kind of person who needed to put others down to lift herself up and that she just felt sorry for the old woman.”
“What about Brooke’s parents? Did they know any of this?”
Jared nodded. “Russell�
�s ten years older than me, but I knew who he was. Nice guy. Kept to himself. Graduated from high school and moved away, but he came home to visit a lot. He wanted his parents to move closer to him and his family, but they wouldn’t.”
“Why?”
“I have no idea. They didn’t seem to care what people of thought of them, and no matter what, they always seemed to be happy. But it’s always bothered me how the Ramsworths treated them.”
“I would guess they treat everyone that way.”
Jared nodded. “This is true, but it always seemed like the old lady had a grudge against Ashley so deep, it consumed her.”
A knock on the door sounded.
Tristan craned his neck.
“Interesting reading,” Stacey said, patting her pregnant belly.
“Come in and have a seat.” Jared waved her in, holding his hand out for one of the copies.
She handed Tristan a set before settling down in the chair next to his. “The pen used is a standard brand name blue pen sold at every store.”
“That’s not helpful.” Tristan flipped through the pages, but Stacey grabbed them, setting them on the desk.
“Let me tell you what I know, then you can read them.”
“She’s way too much like you,” Tristan said, pointing to Jared. “Go ahead.”
“They were able to capture four finger prints. Thanks to Brooke’s arrest, we know one set is hers.”
Tristan closed his eyes, trying to push that mug shot out of his head.
“Two of the prints, we can’t identify, but the last one is where it gets interesting.”
“How so?” Tristan asked.
“They matched the prints we took from Wendell the night you arrested him.” Stacey gave Tristan a sideways glance.
“I don’t like the sound of that,” Jared said.
“Me neither.” Tristan pinched the bridge of his nose. “But considering Rusty worked for Wendell, it’s possible his prints could be on anything Rusty might have carried with him.”