Freight Trained

by Sarah Curtis

  She shifted under him, and he worried his weight was too much for her. He had another objective in mind anyway. Getting up from the bed, he said, "Don't move. Not even a hair. When I come back, I want you to still be exactly like that." He took one last look at her spread legs before making his way to the bathroom to get rid of the spent condom. He returned a minute later with a wet, warm washcloth. Positioning himself between her legs, he made quick work of cleaning her up. He noticed traces of pink smeared on the white cloth. There had been blood on the condom as well.

  Tossing the cloth on the floor, he ran his hands up her thighs. "How are you feeling?"

  She gave him a sheepish smile, "A little sore."

  "Um..." He ran his tongue up through her folds and circled her clit.

  "What are you doing?"

  She was scooting herself up the bed, out of his reach. He gripped her waist, halting her progress. "No way I'm letting you leave this bed without having an orgasm first."

  "I think I'm way ahead on the orgasm count."

  He gave her a grin. "I like having you owe me." Being careful of her tender flesh, he entered her with his tongue while his fingers made little rubbing circles over her sensitive nub. He had her panting and squirming within minutes, and he felt like the fucking king of the world when she shouted his name with her release.

  He had her wrapped in his arms, just the sheet draped across them to their waist. The light breeze from the overhead fan played with her hair, causing little strands to tickle his nose. Her stomach growled, sounding loud in the quiet of the room. He thought back realizing they hadn't eaten since lunch at Sissy's house.

  He kissed the top of her head. "I need to feed you."

  "No, I'm comfortable." He heard her sleepily mumble.

  "Come on," he gave her a swift swat on her ass, "get up and dressed. We'll go to the diner and if you're a good girl and eat your dinner, I'll get you an ice-cream sundae."

  She popped her head up. "With hot fudge and whipped cream."

  He couldn't resist kissing her full, red lips. "Even a cherry on top."

  She scrambled out of the bed and he grinned, admiring her perfect ass. Guess his Little Mouse liked ice cream. Good to know.

  She had her jeans on and was hooking her bra before he even got out of bed. He couldn't stop the laugh, and she looked up at him. "What?"

  Her hair was a mess, tangled around her face that still held a rosy glow. She looked completely well fucked, his devil smiled. Cole thought she'd never looked more beautiful. He shook his head grinning. "Guess you like ice cream, huh?"

  He lost sight of her for a moment while she pulled her shirt over her head. She gave him a one shoulder shrug and a sly smile. "Ice cream is but one of my downfalls."

  "Yeah? What's another one?" he asked as he buttoned his jeans.

  "Nope, I'm not going to tell you. A girl's got to stay a little mysterious," she said, tossing aside a pillow and lifting the sheet.

  Cole gave a bark of laughter then asked, "What are you looking for?"

  "My scrunchie."

  "Scrunchie?" Cole asked, confusion clearly lacing his voice.

  She looked up at him and smiled, waving her hands around her head. "It's like a rubber band, but safer, used for making a ponytail or bun in your hair."

  "Safer?" he asked, recalling the ruffly, fabric thing she always wore in her hair and placing the name scrunchie to it.

  Abby giggled. "You don't know much about women's products, do you?"

  He gave her an exasperated look, placing his hands on his hips. "Unless said product has anything to do with sex, like say a bra or–"

  He stopped mid-sentence when Abby held up a hand, talking over him. "TMI." He grinned, she was too damn cute. "I don't want nor need to know about the hundreds of women before me. In this case, ignorance is bliss."

  Sometime, in the near future, they would have a talk. Hundreds was a very high number and nowhere near what the actual amount was, and he needed her to know that. He didn't want any misconceptions floating around in her head. But for now, with the sexual glow sill lingering on Abby's cheeks and not wanting to taint their first time together, he would let it lie.

  Back to the original subject, she said, "Scrunchies are safer because they don't tangle in your hair, and they also prevent breakage."

  He grunted as he picked up his pillow, helping her look for her elusive scrunchie. He thought about telling her to leave her hair down, but seeing as he wanted to take her to the diner for dinner, he nixed that idea, realizing he didn't want any other man seeing her like that. He frowned as he stared sightlessly at the bed. The possessiveness coursing through his body was a new feeling. Knowing how he felt about Abby, he guessed it was a feeling he would have to get used to.

  "Found it." She bent at the side of the bed and came back into view, smiling and holding a red piece of elasticized fabric.

  He grunted again before locating and picking his shirt up off the floor. She stood, hands on hips, looking at him when he stood back up.

  "I noticed you do that a lot, the whole grunting thing as if words are beneath you. Is this a new language I'll need to learn? One grunt means yes, two grunts means no."

  He released another bark of laughter then slipped his shirt over his head. "You get sassy when you're hungry. I picked up on it at the barbecue, too." Yet another thing to add to his mental "all about Abby" list.

  She produced an unladylike snort before giving him her back, sitting at the edge of the bed to put on her shoes. She looked at him over her shoulder. "I'm a Gemini. My split personality comes out when I'm hungry."

  It wasn't the only time it came out, Cole thought with a small smile. "When's your birthday?"

  His eyes were drawn to the soft curve of her back as she bent forward to tie her shoes. "June 9th. When's yours?" she asked, voiced muffled, speaking to her shoes.

  He just missed her birthday, but it was something else to add to his Abby list. "Um, January 15th," he said, slightly distracted by the creamy skin of her lower back revealed from the rise of her T-shirt.

  She sat up straight, and he lost the captivating view. "You're a Capricorn?"

  He moved his gaze from her now concealed back to her face and shrugged. "Guess so. Never really paid attention to all that astrological crap. Why is that a problem?"

  It was her turn to shrug. "According to the astrological crap makers, we're not very compatible."

  He stalked around the bed until he stood in front of her. In this position, his dick was level with her mouth, and it turned hard at just the thought of her plump, moist lips sucking at its head. He pushed back on her shoulders, laying her flat on her back while he planted his knees on the bed at either side of her hips. He hovered above her, his face inches from hers as he said, "Well then, it's a good thing I don't believe in any of that astrological crap because Darlin', you were made for me." He was about to kiss her, but her stomach chose that time to growl again. With a chuckle he stood from the bed, holding out his hand. "Come on, sweetheart, let's get you fed.

  Being a weeknight, the dinner crowd at the Chuck Wagon Cafe was pretty thinned out by the time they arrived. Only three other tables were occupied. The Hartleys, an older couple who owned the feed store, sat at one sipping coffee, a teenage couple whom Cole didn't know sat at another, sharing what looked like a banana split, and Chad Daniels sat at the last.

  He'd spotted Chad the minute they'd walked in the door. Eyes locked, they gave each other a slight chin lift of acknowledgment as he and Abby passed his table to take a seat in a corner booth.

  With Chad's back to them, Cole put him out of his mind, placing his focus on the woman sitting beside him. He
threw his arm across the back of the booth and leaned in to read her open menu. "Know what you want?"

  She turned her head and being so close, they practically bumped noses. She gave him a suggestive smile and said in a low, husky voice, "I don't suppose you'd let me skip the dinner part and go straight to the good stuff?"

  He gave her a wicked smile. "I don't think they'd approve of us having sex on their table."

  She threw his words from earlier back at him. "You're very lucky I choose to find you adorably cute with your dirty mind and potty mouth else you'd be very uncomfortable sitting for the next few days."

  Cole tipped his head back and laughed. "While the thought of your pretty little hand on my ass is a complete turn-on, I'm more of a spanker than a spankee."

  She leaned closer, and he felt her warm breath caress his ear as she purred, "Well now, that's a shame."

  He pulled his head back quickly, in time to see her flaming red cheeks. He gave her a sly smile. His little mouse was full of surprises.

  Before he could reply, their waitress arrived at their table. "You guys ready to order?"

  He gave her a light kiss on the tip of her nose and whispered, "You're fucking adorable," before turning to their waitress. "I'll have the bacon cheeseburger, fries, and a Coke, and she'll have a banana split with extra cherries." He plucked the menu out of Abby's hands and tucked it behind the napkin dispenser.

  Their waitress scribbled on her pad and nodded before walking away to place their order. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Chad stand to leave. Cole gave him his full attention, noticing just as Chad reached the exit, he paused, his intense stare landing on Abby for a beat of three before he was gone.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Abby wrapped her arms around her stomach and groaned. She'd eaten the whole banana split by herself without even offering Cole a bite. Who in the world had thought that was a good idea?

  "Stomachache?" Cole asked as he darted a quick glance her way before training his eyes back through the windshield. They'd just turned on to their street, and the road was pitch black with only the truck's headlights to guide the way.

  "I'm never eating again," Abby said, with another moan. "This is all your fault."

  "My fault? How you figure that?"

  "You're the one who ordered the damn thing for me."

  "Yeah, but you're the one who ate the whole damn thing. Why didn't you stop when you got full?"

  She sat up straighter, turning in her seat and looked at him with wide eyes even though he wasn't looking at her, he was turning in to the driveway. "I'm not going to waste ice cream."

  He grunted then suddenly came to an abrupt stop with a screeching chirp of tires. "What the fuck?"

  Still sitting with her body facing Cole and the seat belt stretched around her body, Abby caught herself with a hand to the dash as she was thrown sideways.

  He reached out, placing a hand on her thigh. "You okay?"

  "Yeah." She turned her head, looking out the windshield to see what had Cole braking as if they were about to fly over a cliff. Sitting in the center of the driveway, shining in the glow of the truck's headlights was a package about the size of a shoebox, wrapped in reflective, red paper and a large, pink bow.

  Someone had left Cole a present and wanting him to see it right away, left it on the driveway instead of the porch. Weird, but nothing to get panicky over. Abby's brows drew together as she thought about that further. It wasn't close to a "give a present" kind of holiday and as she discovered earlier, not near his birthday either. "Who would be giving you a gift and why?" She said her last thought aloud.

  Cole's hand tightened on her thigh, so she turned her attention back to him. "I don't think it's for me."

  "What?" Her voice came out as a breathy whisper. But he already had his phone out dialing so didn't answer.

  "We came home to a package in my driveway." He hadn't answered with a pleasant greeting nor had he introduced himself to his caller. "We won't touch it until you get here." Another pause. "Good. See you in a few."

  "Sheriff?" Abby asked although she was pretty sure she knew the answer.

  "Yeah."

  "You think it's from the same person that left the flowers and champagne?"

  Cole ran his hand—the one not still clutching her thigh—through his hair, starting at his forehead and sliding his hand back until he gripped the back of his neck. "Know it is."

  She didn't like to think some creepy, stalker type was obsessed with her so blurted, "It could be for you," in a lame attempt to disguise what was really going on.

  "Don't know anyone that would spontaneously leave me a present for no reason."

  "Maybe your last friend, trying to grab your attention?" She hadn't said that to be snippy, she really hoped it was true. Abby knew she was grasping at straws but for some reason, if this was a third gift from him, it suddenly made things very real. Ever since she received the flowers, she'd been putting the implications of what those actions meant to the back of her mind. But with a third gift, it was becoming harder for her to shove the strange reality that she had a stalker into one of her mental boxes to ignore.

  Cole reached across the center console and grabbed the back of her head, pushing her toward him as he leaned in, meeting her at half the distance. His lips captured hers, his tongue parting them forcefully, invading and taking possession of her mouth.

  The force of gravity shift had her catching her fall, one hand landing on the hard-plastic cup holder in the center console, the other high up on his thigh. If his plan had been to take away her worries, it worked spectacularly. All thoughts flew from her mind and became focused on the strong, warm tongue that caressed along the back of her teeth, the roof of her mouth, and the length of her tongue. A low, deep moan traveled down the back of her throat and the hand, twisted in the back of her hair holding her immobile, tightened.

  He ended the kiss and still gripping her hair, he placed his forehead against hers and said in his low, sexy drawl, "I won't let anything happen to you, Little Mouse. I promise." His lips found hers once again, and she felt the promise in his kiss.

  "How normal is this, getting a gift twice in one day?" Abby asked the sheriff. He had arrived a few minutes ago with Deputy Williams and the four of them stood around the, as yet, untouched box in the center of Cole's driveway.

  Sheriff Brody had his hands on his hips, looking down at the box while Abby asked the question but knew she spoke to him so answered, "Well, technically, it's only one gift today, you've just discovered two in one day. The champagne was left last night and the flowers the night before so it seems, he's leaving you one a day."

  "And how normal is that?" Abby tried to keep the worry from her voice but knew she failed when Cole took a hold of her hand and tangled their fingers together.

  The sheriff sighed. "I've done some research on the subject of stalking, abductions, and the like." He paused a moment and in the silence knew he thought of his daughter. He cleared his throat, but his voice still sounded a bit hoarse when he said, "Anyway, every case I've investigated, each perp is so individual, it's hard to know what's considered normal. For this guy, this is normal."

  Abby ducked her head trying not to feel frustrated by his non-answer.

  Cole gave her hand a gentle squeeze. "I want to know what's in the box. See how far this fuck has escalated."

  The sheriff pulled a pair of latex gloves and what looked like a folded plastic trash bag out of his back pocket. He handed the bag to Deputy Williams. "I'm hoping he screwed up and left a print."

  "What do you do if you find a print?" Abby was now kicking herself for never watching all the true crime shows that had become so popular. />
  "If we find a print, it'll go through NCIC, see if we get a hit." He said, squatting beside the box.

  "NCIC?" Abby asked.

  The sheriff looked up from the box. "National Crime Information Center, FBI database."

  The deputy spoke up. "But if he's never been convicted of a crime, his prints won't be on file."

  Abby gave her attention to the deputy when he spoke. The smile he gave her seemed almost sinister with no emotion reaching his eyes. She shivered, a cold tingle sliding down her spine, and she subtly took a step closer to Cole.

  Sheriff Brody stood, placing the box in the now open garbage bag that the deputy held open. He looked at Cole. "You want to know what it is, you'll need to come to the station.

  Ten minutes later, Cole pulled them into a parking spot in front of the station. It was late enough that only three cars besides theirs were parked in the lot. Cole turned off the ignition then turned to face Abby before getting out. "If you don't want to know what's in the package, I'm sure there's someplace you can wait while we open it."

  Abby was shaking her head before he even finished his sentence. "No, I want to know. Wait, scratch that, I need to know."

  Cole did the whole "lean over the center console" thing and lightly kissed the tip of her nose. "Okay, Little Mouse. Let's go find out what the fuck it is."

  "What is that?" Cole asked, looking down at the gift, now revealed, sitting in the middle of the conference table.

  They were in the station's only interrogation room. The room was devoid of any character with its bare, yellowed walls that could have used a fresh coat of paint five years ago, and the cracked and scarred linoleum tiles that covered the floor. The only pop of color, the blue and red hard-plastic chairs that circled the table.

  Abby took a step closer, looking at the large, iridescent-pink egg shaped object from all sides. "I think it's a music box." It was beautiful, decorated with white lace and flowers.