by S. E. Harmon
“So good,” I managed a little dreamily. “So good.”
He chuckled and slapped my ass. “Get to work.”
A nice shiver worked its way down my spine. Out of bed, if he so much as told me where to put a cereal bowl, I’d give him hell. In bed? There was nothing hotter than Danny telling me what the fuck to do. So… I got to work. I sucked him back down to his resounding groan, and we pleasured and tried to outdo each other.
He finally let my cock slide from his mouth, and I moaned a little in protest. “Not yet.”
“Want you to sit on my face.”
Oh. My face went warm. There was really nothing more I loved than a good rimming before a good fuck, but it was certainly intimate. A lot of trust involved. “I don’t think—”
“You think too goddamned much,” he muttered. He gripped my hips and brought me down, my knees on either side of his head.
I tried my damnedest to hold still and just let his tongue lick at my entrance. Don’t grind on his face like some cat in heat. Don’t…. His tongue slipped inside me, and I groaned. I was trying to reciprocate, trying to focus on giving him the best blow job of his life, but it felt so fucking good. My hips began to gyrate, almost without my permission, as I pressed down on his tongue in my hole as he worked me open. And suddenly he decided to add a finger around his seeking tongue, and I really had something to work on. I worked my ass up and down, moaning when I got what I wanted, grunting when I didn’t, my mouth slack and open as I breathed against his thigh and shame-facedly forgot about my end of the deal.
Finally he pushed me forward with a little growl. “Enough. You’re going to make me cum.”
I was? What about what he was doing to me?
I wished I could make words. All I could do was lie there on my stomach, listening to him rifle through the side drawer, feeling like a quivery, sensitized mess. I rose up on my elbows as he came over me and wasted no time as his cock dropped between my asscheeks and went for my hole like a heat-seeking missile. And then he thrust into me, and I let out a helpless wail.
He fucked me hard and gave me no quarter. He knew exactly what I liked and knew exactly how to give it to me. No build-up, no games, no begging. I hadn’t done that in quite some time, and it was a tight fit—almost like with every thrust he made, my ass tried to pull him back in. He bit my neck and sucked it at intervals, and I knew tomorrow I was going to look like I’d gotten busy with a vampire. Kevin would have a field day.
I shut my eyes and tried my best to prolong my orgasm. Anything just to hold on to the moment. I tried to think of other things—erection-killing things—but it was no use. I could probably have seen a white-haired grandma in a G-string and pasties right then, and I still wouldn’t be able to hold back. He nailed my prostate again, and it was the final fucking straw.
My back and shoulder muscles tightened. My dick thickened, my ass clenched, and I wasn’t even half surprised when I came, hands-free.
Even my lazy elbows buckled, and I dropped, flat on the bed, right into the mess. I couldn’t care less. Felt too good. I was far too high on my orgasm to worry about logistics and cleaning up and wet spots and stickiness. I just wanted to put real life aside and be his fucktoy for a little bit longer.
I kept my legs spread for Danny, as I lay there, replete. In a few minutes, it would probably be too much, but right then, I was still enjoying the feeling of him thrusting inside of me. I only wished I had the energy to urge him on. I clenched down hard on him to help, and he cursed and his body went completely taut. He finally came with a low moan and a sigh, and I wasn’t aware we had a problem until I felt his warmth inside of me.
“Oh fuck,” he swore as he thrust in and out a few more times. “Fuck. Baby, I think the condom—”
“I know. I feel it.”
He slowed and finally pulled out of me, still breathing hard by my ear. “Sorry. I would’ve never—”
“It’s fine, Irish. It’s not like you’re some random hookup at the club.”
I tried not to think about how good it fucking felt either. It didn’t matter how many times I’d thought about him coming inside of me. We couldn’t do it again. But there was no sense in crying over spilt… fluids.
I couldn’t help the frisson of arousal that went through me at the thought of his cum leaking out of my ass. I felt him dealing with the broken condom, and I still didn’t move, secure in the knowledge that he’d take care of it. Danny was good like that. He never minded taking care of me.
And then I felt his tongue against my well-used hole, licking at the rim. Licking up his own cum out of my ass. God, he knew all my dirty kinks. Our wedding cake would just have two freak flags on top, flying high and proud. Against all odds I could feel my cock take interest. “Oh fuck. You’re such a filthy bastard.”
“Don’t you know it,” he muttered and speared his tongue inside me again.
He delved particularly deep, and my back arched so hard I thought I might get a cramp. I reached back, tangled my fingers through his hair, and forced his head where I wanted it. My half-interested cock had turned into full-on, ready-to-go-again interest.
He finally pulled back and gently bit one of my asscheeks. “I want you again,” he said flatly. “Want you now.”
That was just so wrong. And I meant everything. Him. Me. Us. Having hot sex that was going to make it harder to part. Everything.
But hell. It’s not like I hadn’t been wrong before.
I let him take my ankle and roll me on my back. “Again.” I demanded while I spread my legs and stroked my cock. I sent him a lazy smile as he eyed me hungrily. “And this time fuck me like you mean it.”
Chapter 22
THERE WAS a new energy around the team that next morning. I liked to call it the “let’s just forget about whatever weirdness happened yesterday” vibe. I was kind of cool with that. I could handle a couple of odd looks from Tabitha and a wide berth from Gonzalez. Explaining to one more person that I saw ghosts? Not on my agenda. Along with ghosts, Danny and I also weren’t talking about getting tipsy and me letting him fuck me. Several times.
Works for me.
I spun around in Danny’s beat-up office chair, waited for the computer to boot, and watched him bustle around, getting ready to leave. Since we had sex, it was like someone had flipped a switch and that’s all I could think about.
If his lieutenant saw him, he was sure to get an earful. He was clad in some dark denim that made his ass look fantastic, scuffed black military boots, and a soft blue shirt that almost exactly matched his eyes. He hadn’t bothered to shave, and his strong jaw was dark with stubble. It made his lips look even softer. He looked good. A little disreputable. All that was missing was a motorcycle jacket and helmet.
He caught me staring and raised one dark eyebrow. My face went warm. Stop thinking about sex. Right this minute. Only the memories of the things we did weren’t that easy to escape—Danny’s mouth marking my skin, his cock buried deep in my ass. I was still all kinds of deliciously sore. I cleared my throat and shifted in my chair.
Will you be a goddamned professional already? Clearly my inner voice was exasperated with my whorish ways. I was there to work. And work I would… as soon as his computer deigned to start. It was nice of Danny to let me use his office as a quiet place to think, but there was no nice way to put it. His office was a dump, and his computer was a relic.
Actually the whole department could use a facelift. Clearly the cold-case squad in Brickell Bay wasn’t a high priority when the city disbursed funds. Maybe I could help. I had experience writing grants. I also knew what areas of the department could be improved with funding.
That would be all fine and dandy if you were actually staying.
I bit my lip. Right. Forgot about that little tidbit.
Even if I did have a brain meltdown and leave the FBI, that didn’t mean I could get a job there. Didn’t mean Danny would even want me there. Just because we had a night of unbelievable sex didn’t mean he wanted
me to stay. My revelations were supposed to bring us closer. Instead, all the ghost talk had finally accomplished a task I started years before—putting even more space between us.
I sighed and spun around in the chair some more. I didn’t know whether to continue to wait for the thing to boot or take a bat to the whole setup. The logo spun a quarter of an inch. Bat. Definitely a bat.
Danny stilled my rotating chair with a scuffed boot. “Kevin and I are going to head over to Brock’s mother’s house. See if CSU found the laptop and the purse.”
“Good luck, Indiana Bones,” I said, still a little cross. I knew exactly why I hadn’t been invited along. With my absence Danny and Kevin could play cowboy and break all the rules they wanted without my censorship. “Don’t get kicked out of another house. Meaning don’t give his mother a hard time.”
“She was actively helping to hide a fugitive, you know. If it were up to me, I’d put both her and her brother in jail.”
“If it were up to you, you’d be scooping up jaywalkers and litterers by the dozens.” I sighed again and glared at the computer screen. “Jaysus. Have you ever heard of a little something called Windows 10?”
“Nope,” Danny said, clearly amused. “What is that, some kind of cleaning product?”
“Next time I decide to leave my laptop home, please remind me of this moment. This thing is broken.”
“It’s not broken.” Sure enough, the startup logo spun a little more, just as proof of life. One million large or you’ll never see your files again. “You just need to be more patient, sweetheart.”
It was a damned good thing I was already sitting. Mostly so I wouldn’t have to explain why my legs were suddenly wobbly. Sweetheart? He did it so offhandedly, he probably didn’t even realize he said it. I certainly wasn’t going to point it out.
He snapped his fingers as he finally spotted his keys peeking out from one of my files. He leaned over my shoulder and snagged them. That slight mint and forest-pine scent assailed my nostrils, and I tried unobtrusively to get a better whiff.
“If we find anything, I’ll give you a call. If not I’ll just see you at home.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
For a moment it seemed like he was going to kiss me. But not a long, passionate kiss that spoke of more things to come. It was worse than that. He was going to give me a goodbye kiss on the cheek, something we’d done so many times before it made my chest a little tight.
And then right before we connected, he jerked back. His face was a little pink. He waved a hand at the computer. “Hope you get it to work.”
“Do… do you want me to pick up something for dinner?”
He gave me a half smile. “Yeah. I’m up for whatever. And make sure you buy more whiskey while you’re at it.”
“I didn’t even drink that much,” I protested. “That bottle was almost empty.”
“You drank enough for us to do… what we did.”
“What we did” encompassed quite a bit. “It was only a couple glasses,” I staunchly maintained.
“Then make sure you buy at least that much.” He waggled his eyebrows and headed out the door.
It was a good minute before I got it and laughed. Well, I might be stuck with the computer from hell, but at least I would get laid in the near future.
IN THE end I just used my iPad. I took my time to peruse Amy’s social media. Lucky for me she hadn’t been obsessed—no Instagram, Snapchat, Twitter, or whatever else those crazy kids were up to nowadays. She’d been an avid Facebook user, which was thankfully in my wheelhouse.
I flipped through her photos slowly and noted everything and nothing in particular. Lots of nature photos and family albums. Pictures with her friends. Selfies galore. All the usual suspects—bathroom-mirror pix in skimpy clothing, shades in the car, a latte with a smiley face. The family album was like flipping through a book of my suspects—I passed yet another photo of her and Brock together on a park bench.
“Wow. Doesn’t look like you’re making much progress.”
“Jesus.” I grabbed my chest as Ethan appeared in my peripheral vision. I moved my hand in anxious circles as though I could physically soothe my rapidly beating heart. “Isn’t there some other way you could appear?”
He shrugged. “Yeah, but it’s not nearly as fun as watching you hyperventilate.”
“Tell me you brought Amy with you.”
“We don’t hang out at the ghost café, no.” Ethan scowled. “I have no idea where that girl is.”
I huffed and went back to flipping through pictures. “Then you’re dead to me.”
“I’m dead to everyone.” Ethan looked over my shoulder as I scrolled. “But I still might be able to help.” He pointed at one of the pictures. “Who’s that?”
I quelled my knee-jerk reaction to say “nunya beeswax.” That made me proud. Maybe I was maturing after all. I took a moment to congratulate myself. “Her boyfriend, Brock.”
“It’s always the boyfriend with you guys.”
“Well, you generally have to rule out the loved ones first.”
Although I had to admit that Jenna took top billing on the suspect list at that point. Brock had run from us, sure, but that just made him an idiot. I felt he’d been fairly truthful in the interrogation room. And since he was on ice for assaulting a federal officer, finding him wasn’t going to be a problem.
Two suspects was optimistic. There was Jenna’s mother, Margaret, who, despite her protestations, didn’t seem overly fond of her daughter’s best friend. Amy’s real father made the cut too. He seemed perfectly content with his new wife and two small children. He hadn’t had time for Amy in life, and he certainly didn’t have any interest in her now. Maybe she pushed for more time, and he got angry? What about his new wife who didn’t want Amy hanging around?
The stepfather seemed like a real jerk, but he seemed to be genuinely hurt about Amy’s disappearance. He appeared to be the type of blue-collar guy who spent a lot of time drinking, watching football, and slapping waitresses’ asses. An ignoramus. But harmless.
And then there was Dinah Greene. I flipped past a photo of Amy with her mother, hugging in the mall. True enough, she was hardly Ms. Personality. She also had those insurance policies—excessive policies on a healthy child. But people did legitimately take out insurance on their loved ones. It wasn’t as though it were a million dollar policy either. The string of insurance policy claims didn’t mean much either. She just seemed like a professional scammer. Not a killer.
Then again, who did?
I swatted at the cold spot that was Ethan, hanging over my shoulder. In retaliation Ethan blew a cold breeze across the back of my neck, and I yelped. “Isn’t there someplace else you should be?” I asked with a glare as I unfolded my rolled-up sleeves.
“What if I could get a message to her?”
“If you’ve been holding out on me, you’re going to wish you’d just walked into the light.”
“There is no light. And it’s not like you’ve repaid me for the last favor I did.” Ethan stuck his stupid ghost hands on his stupid ghost hips. “You know, when I put a lot of work into finding her in the first place?”
My eyes narrowed. “What do you want?”
“You know what I want.”
“Jesus. I finally understand the full scope of the word haunt.” I sighed. I was already outed as a freak. Might as well go full-on weirdo. “I will start communications with your parents. Start. Maybe an email. But I make no promises.”
“An email?” Ethan squawked. “This is not the sort of thing you tell someone in an email.”
“We need to open the lines of communication somehow. And get them to see me.”
“Not like I have much say in the matter,” he said, clearly disgruntled. He pointed a warning finger. “But you make it good. Convincing. I don’t want them to write you off as some sort of quack.”
“You mean like everyone else is starting to? Fine. You’ve got a deal. Now go get Amy.”
“I
can’t just summon her,” Ethan snapped, obviously still irritated. “But I can show you a few places I find her.”
THE LAST place on Ethan’s list was the park. I drove onto the grass, got out of the car, and took in all the activity. It seemed like every part of the sun-dappled field was occupied—children played soccer, people walked their dogs, and several games of pick-up basketball had drawn a bit of a crowd. Something caught my eye near the soccer field, and I meandered over to the fence, hands stuffed in my pockets.
I stuck my Bluetooth in my ear so I wouldn’t seem like a complete whack job talking to myself, and I leaned against the fence. Amy didn’t seem inclined to acknowledge my presence just then, but luckily, I had time.
“You like soccer?” I finally asked.
She moved her fingers as if threading them through the fence. “My brothers play. I used to take them to practice and watch sometimes. That’s Derrick.” She pointed at a sandy-haired boy running after the ball. “And that’s Connor.”
I looked at the other boy for a moment, right before he delivered a beautiful kick that sent the ball sailing through the goalie’s hands. “They’re good,” I said as the field erupted in cheers and the coach blew his whistle.
“I used to hate taking them to practice. Thought it was such a waste of time.” She paused. “I thought a lot of things were a waste of time.” Her fingers tightened on the fence, and I was briefly startled. I didn’t know it was possible for them to grasp anything. I didn’t know… a lot about them, now that I thought about it. I had a lot to learn.
She gave me a curious side look. “Why can you hear me when no one else can?”
I sighed. “If you can answer that question, I’ve got a million dollars for you.”
She looked back toward the field. “Did my mom ask about me?”
I guiltily thought back to my brief interactions with her mother. So far the woman had thrown me out of her house twice. That had to count as emotion of some kind. “Of course she asked about you. She misses you. And she knows you didn’t run away.”