She was so wet that he slid easily back and forth. Her knees grew weak. She gasped for breath, her nipples tingling with desire, her pussy hot with want. Gently, he urged her to step back. She sat down on the bed, his cock right in front of her face. Before he could deny her, she grasped his shaft with one hand and cupped his balls with the other. God, he was huge. Thick, the veins along its surface throbbing and thick.
She took him into her mouth. Dean groaned, his hands on her shoulders. He tried to pull away, but she released his balls and grabbed his ass, pressing him closer. She wrapped one hand firmly around the base of his dick and swirled her tongue around his head, eliciting another soft groan. Emboldened, she tightened her lips around the head and sucked, went a little deeper, and sucked again. She stroked the length of his cock, her grip firm but sliding easily along the velvety-smooth softness of the skin on the surface, marveling again at the incredible hardness beneath.
His ass was tightly contracted and he tried not to move as her tongue stroked his length. She sucked on his head several times before she repeated the process. He let her do it all, but a couple of times his hips thrust forward and she took him deeper. Her other hand stroked the inside of his thighs before she once again cupped his balls, gently squeezing.
Suddenly, Dean pulled his hips back, causing her to lose her grip on him. He reached down and lifted her from the bed, his arms hooked under hers. He gazed down at her, his eyes glistening and dilated in the muted glow from the cheap light bulb in the room. Had she done something wrong? “Feels fucking amazing, Sweetheart,” he said, “but I want to be inside you.” He shifted his position slightly and the tip of his cock jerked between her legs, his shaft seeking her entrance. With her hand she guided him and then, without hesitation, he surged up inside her.
His hips pumped, once, twice. In answer, her internal muscles clenched around his cock, inviting him to go deeper, her lips surging forward to meet his, but he pulled out. She gazed up at him, confused.
“No cover,” he said.
“No, it’s alright . . . I . . . I have an implant. I’m not,” she paused as he looked down at her. She felt his warm breath on her face. Reveled in it. She continued. “I mean, I haven’t dated anyone since . . . but I just didn’t want to take the chance, just in case . . . you understand?”
She hoped he would. The thought of Nick or someone like him, the thought of ever being taken against her will had horrified her. As a result, she’d insisted on the device months ago.
Amy didn’t want to spoil the moment and she clasped her hands around his ass, urging him closer again. He lifted her into his arms and settled her gently on the bed, then lay on top of her. Her heart thumped as she smiled. “Please, Dean, I need to . . .” She paused, her cheeks heating. Screw it. If this was it, then she was damn well going to enjoy it. “I need to feel you inside me. I can’t explain it, but—”
He groaned again. “I understand,” he whispered.
Dean slowly lowered his body closer to hers, his length spread along hers, warming her, enveloping her in a sensation of solid security. He nudged her legs open a little wider and nestled himself there, the tip of his cock pressed against her. She throbbed with anticipation and desire and tried to nudge him upward, but he merely smiled and leaned closer to kiss her.
His gaze skimmed every inch of her skin. As he looked from one nipple to the other, they hardened and extended even further, inviting . . . no, demanding his attention. She ached to feel him deep inside her. That brief second was not enough, not nearly enough. Never had she—
No! Don’t go there!
She forced her thoughts from the past and back to the present, watching Dean watch her. His eyes roamed from her breasts and down her belly to her hips, and then lower. Fighting the instinct to cover herself, she let him look. After a few moments, she became emboldened and looked herself, too, staring at his cock, pointed at an angle toward her. When she looked at it, it wiggled as if acknowledging her attention.
Dean straightened, on his knees now, his large, rough hands gently spreading her legs further apart. She was so hot Amy wondered how she didn’t immediately self-combust.
He repositioned himself and lowered his head and teased her, first kissing each of her hip bones, then tracing his tongue between them, back and forth, back and forth, his fingers sliding along the inside of her thighs, touching her lips only briefly and then straying away. Every time his fingers got close to her wetness, her hips automatically lifted upward. He chuckled and finally took mercy.
Ever so softly, his mouth encompassed her nub, his tongue circling ever so slowly and gently. Gradually, the pressure increased and he began to suckle, causing her to arch upward. Eyes closed, relishing the sensations, she tried to reach for his cock, but it was too far away. All she managed to do was wrap her fingers in a vice-like grip around his biceps as his tongue worked its magic.
She couldn’t stop it. Her hips began to gyrate in a slow, rhythmic motion that he encouraged with his tongue, his lips, and his fingers. Her pussy was on fire, jolts of sensation building, causing her movements to lengthen and slow, a pace he matched with his suckling.
It happened then, the white-hot flash in her brain, the incredible release that came in fierce, undulating waves, her hips moving in rhythm to her climax. Even after her hips stopped moving and his suckling ceased, she felt the internal contractions, almost keeping time with the blood still pulsing through her veins.
It wasn’t enough. It might never be enough. Amy reached up, pulling him down on top of her, and then twisted, rolling him onto his back and now it was she who lay on top of him. Her breasts pressed against his abdomen and his cock nestled between them. She looked up at him, saw him gazing at her, smiling in return.
His cock was still engorged, upright, and throbbing.
She didn’t hesitate. She lowered herself down onto his shaft in slow increments, reveling in the sensations as, bit by bit, he filled her. He didn’t move, allowing her the control. She was wet and slick and he slid in easily, her internal muscles tightly grasping his cock.
She spread her knees wider and slid down completely as he filled every inch of her. She leaned forward slightly, resting her hands on his shoulders. His hands rose to cradle her breasts, his thumbs twirling the nipples, and then playfully tugging and tweaking. Automatically, she began to move. At first, he lay still, his eyes closed, the only indication of the intensity of his gratification displayed by his tightly clenched jaw. She thrilled at her ability to offer him so much pleasure.
With nearly wild abandon, she rocked her hips, slowly and sensuously at first, twisting slightly in a circular motion at the base of each stroke. The slow, laborious movements increased in pace, her body impatient to feel him deeper inside her. As if sensing her invitation, he began to meet her strokes by lifting his hips in time with her movements, urging his cock deeper. He pumped as far into her as he could. Amy threw her head back as she gyrated, her breasts jiggling gently.
Her breath came faster and she leaned forward, once again leaning her hands on his strong shoulders. The muscles beneath her fingers rippled as he moved to grab her around the waist, then he slid his hands down to her hips, guiding her, setting the pace. Their rhythm entwined, matching in tempo.
Soft sounds escaped from her throat. Dean groaned with pleasure. Suddenly, he reached up, clasped her tightly and pulled her toward him, and then rolled her over. His cock still deep inside her, she now lay on her back, with him on top of her. She bent her legs and then wrapped her feet around the back of his thighs, urging him on.
“Deeper!” she gasped.
He obliged. He slid in and out of her wetness easily. He plunged deep inside, so deep that she felt his balls slapping at her groin. It wasn’t enough. She wanted more. Dean seemed to sense her desperation and increased his pace. Her breath erupted from her mouth in harsh gasps as she caressed the back of his thighs just below his ass. With every plunge, she lifted her hips and tried to pull him in even deeper.
<
br /> She fought tears, not because of the sex, but because she knew this might be . . . no, this was the only time for them. In a matter of hours, she would have to say goodbye. The thought made her even more desperate to keep him deep inside her. If she could have melded into him, she would have.
She felt another orgasm building. Seconds later, as her internal muscles began to contract, she felt the change in his motions. Every muscle in his body stiffened and she knew he was going to explode any moment. She felt the undulating movement in his cock through her own muscles and then the hot fluid releasing in rhythmic pulses, his hips freezing at the top of every long, slow thrust. She reached her own peak at the sensation, her second orgasm even stronger than the first.
Gradually, his movements subsided and he lay there beneath her, his chest heaving with his exertions.
They lay naked together on the bed, neither of them saying a word. Words weren’t necessary at this point, were they? It was at that moment that the truth hit her.
This was it . . . she’d done it. She’d fallen in love with Dean.
Could things get any worse?
25
Dean
He lay next to Amy as she slept, lying on her side, her head resting on his shoulder. Both still naked, the room was warm enough that he didn’t feel the need to disturb her sleep to pull the bedspread cover up over her. Their lovemaking had been the best of his life, no doubt about that, but also tinged with what he could only feel with a sense of regret. Would this be their last night together?
He was relieved that she’d be under protection officially, safe until a new identity could be created for her and she was placed in the Witness Protection Program. He also felt . . . what?
He didn’t even have to think about it. He’d fallen in love with her. He couldn’t get close enough to her, not only physically, but mentally and emotionally. How the hell had her family turned their back on such an amazing person, leaving her to fend for herself in the most horrifying situation? How could any mother do that to her child? The thought reminded him how much he appreciated and missed his own mother. They had been like any other family, along with their fair share of arguments, but she was always there for him.
She had told him once that nothing he could ever do would ever change the depth of love that she felt for him. He believed it. It was difficult to imagine having a mother that didn’t feel that way.
Dean let out a harsh breath. If Amy was going to escape the clutches of Nick Summers, she had little choice but to accept the inevitable. He and the other members of the sex-trafficking ring, if not in custody, could easily disappear. They could reappear at any time, back into her life. She deserved better than having to look over her shoulder every day, wondering when she would turn around to find Nick Summers behind her.
In the past, he had always avoided getting too close to any of the women he dated, emotionally or physically. More often than not, the more time he spent with a woman, the less he wanted to. With Amy, it was completely the opposite.
He sighed. No use fighting it. The decision was made, and he wasn’t going to let her risk herself for his own selfish feelings.
He needed to call Agent Hemmings and let him know that Amy was safe and with him. He also needed to let Sloane know that her hunch had proved correct. He slightly shifted away from Amy. Deep in an exhausted sleep, she moaned softly. Her hand rested on his chest and he gently lifted it with his own. Her hand was so small, so delicate next to his, making him smile.
He gradually extricated himself from her grasp and stood by the bed, gazing down at her sleeping so deeply. She looked so innocent, so childlike, but she was anything but. Amy had been through more in her short lifetime than many women experienced in decades. She lay on her right side, so he didn’t see the scars of her branding emblazoned on her hip or at the base of her neck.
The thought of those scars infuriated him. Fucking bastards. If nothing else, it was that emotion that overrode any hesitancy he had with the WITSEC deal. She needed to be safe from those animals. Maybe, if they were caught and thrown in jail—forever—she might be safe, but as long as she could identify Nick and the others who had shown their faces around her during her captivity, he couldn’t take the chance.
He wasn’t sure if anyone had ever voluntarily come out of the Witness Protection Program. Chances were that somewhere, someone had, unable to leave their old life behind; their homes, their jobs, their family and friends. It couldn’t be easy.
What did Amy have to lose? Her parents no longer wanted her. She had a very small circle of friends here in Monroe, but she was the one who seemed terrified of subjecting any of them to this horror. He knew she felt guilty over what had happened to him back at the other motel, but it wasn’t her fault. None of it was.
It was that fucking Nick Summers.
With a sigh, he pulled on his boxers and jeans and then headed for the bathroom, pulling the phone from his pocket as he did so. He quietly closed the bathroom door behind him, flipped on the light, and then sat on the edge of the bathtub. He dialed Agent Hemmings. It rang only once.
“Hemmings.”
“It’s Dean. I’m with Amy.”
“Where are you?”
“She’s safe. At least for now. But we can’t stay here long.”
“Dean, where’s here?”
Dean wanted to trust the agent, he really did, but after Nick had been able to find them twice, he wasn’t sure if he could, or should.
“Is there anywhere we can meet in person? You get my drift?” Someone might be listening. Doubtful, but possible. A pause on the other end and then Hemmings replied.
“Got it,” he said. “Cup of coffee?”
“There’s a 24-hour diner open just off Main Street and Second. Be there in an hour?”
“Sure,” Hemmings said. “Should I be making arrangements?”
Dean sighed. “Yeah, make the arrangements. I’ll fill you in soon.”
The call disconnected. He could trust Hemmings, he thought. But somehow, Nick had managed to find Amy twice. Dean was sure he hadn’t been followed to this motel, but now was not the time to be taking chances. He sighed again, resting his elbows on his knees, staring at the dirty baseboards of the bathroom. In just a few months, his life had turned completely upside down. First losing his mother, now losing Amy.
He lifted the phone again and dialed Mason. The phone rang three times before his friend answered.
“Dean, where are you? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” he said. “Where are you?”
“I’m at the station. Don’t get off until eight. What do you need?”
Dean smiled. He and Mason had been friends for a long time and he was happy that the relatively anti-social Mason had found love. He and Sloane were engaged, soon to be married. He envied his friend. He and Sloan had managed to get through Sloane’s kidnapping. Why couldn’t he and Amy be given the same chance?
“A safe place,” he said simply. “I’m at a crappy motel in the middle of nowhere south of town with Amy. Thank Sloane again for her help. Without her, I’m not sure I would have found her.”
“What can I do? What can we do?”
“She’s agreed to accept the protection of the Marshal’s Service until she can get into the Witness Protection Program—”
“Oh, shit, Dean, I’m sorry,” Mason said. “I was hoping things would resolve before that became necessary.” He paused. “You alright? I heard you ended up in the hospital.”
Word traveled fast in a small town, and that was half the problem. While Amy didn’t often venture outside the walls of Promise House, he was sure that everyone in town knew about her story, at least bits and pieces. The other residents who had stayed at the shelter and had come and gone might have said something to people. Not long ago, when Meg’s crazy ex had tried to kill her and had almost succeeded in bringing down Promise House, an investigation had followed. So, too, had questions about each and every one of the residents there, including Am
y.
“I’m bruised and sore, but I’ll be fine. Got any ideas?”
“As a matter of fact, I do. My family owns a cabin up in Coon Hills. You familiar with the area?”
Coon Hills. Not far from a natural preserve maybe thirty miles north of Monroe. Rough and secluded country, half swamp, half forest. Why anyone would want to own a cabin in that mosquito-infested country, Dean had no idea, but beggars couldn’t be choosers.
“I do.”
“You and Amy can stay there as long as you need. It would be a good place for the Marshal’s Service to protect her, too, if she does that. There’s only one road in. The cabin is on high ground, so it has a good vantage point.” He paused, spoke quietly to someone.
“What was that?”
“Captain asking about you,” Mason said. “If there’s anything any of us can do to help, you’ll call? Any time, Brother.”
“Of course,” Dean said. He knew every member of the firehouse would stand beside him, and Amy. It was just the way it was.
“Got a paper and pencil? I’ll give you directions.”
“No, but go ahead. I’ll remember.” Mason repeated the directions twice until Dean was sure he wouldn’t have much trouble finding the place, at least when it was dawn in a few hours. Finding the place at night would be next to impossible, which was a good thing as far as he was concerned.
“What about a key?”
Mason laughed. “That place is so remote and hidden, we’ve never needed one. I don’t carry it on me, but there’s one tucked under a rock under the bathroom window on the west side of the cabin.”
“Thanks, Mason,” Dean said. “I owe you a big one. I’m going to meet with Agent Hemmings in just a little bit. He can arrange for a marshal to get up there. Then I’ll give you a call.” He took a deep breath. He had one last chance. His only chance. “I need to find these bastards, if I can, before Amy disappears into WITSEC.”
Burning the Past (Southern Heat Book 3) Page 16