Break for Me

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Break for Me Page 4

by Shiloh Walker


  If he was lucky, they’d make it there on the next go.

  If not … well. They’d have to be lucky, because he wanted to see Jensen in his bed.

  His heart did one hard bang when he first walked into the living room, because he didn’t see her—

  Then, as he cleared the couch, he breathed again.

  She had slid down to the floor, curled up bonelessly, and as he stepped to her, she popped one eye open to stare at him.

  He went to his knees between her thighs and drew her to him.

  “I said stay,” he murmured, dipping his head and pressing his mouth to hers.

  She blushed as he lifted his head, his tongue coming out to lick her lips.

  “I…”

  She glanced around, her gaze landing on the condom he held.

  He reached for her hands and drew them to his shirt. “Take it off,” he suggested.

  She looked up at him and then, still holding his eyes, she stripped the shirt away.

  After she tossed it to the floor, she scraped her short, neat nails down his chest, paused to trace his nipples and he hissed at the sensation. He hooked his fingers in his shorts and boxers, shoved them down. But when he reached for the condom, Jensen already had it.

  The sound of the foil tearing seemed louder than it should. Blood roared in his ears as she pulled it out of the packet and he had to curl his hands into fists to keep from grabbing her when she started to unroll it over him.

  His cock jerked and he could all but feel the blood pulsing, boiling in his veins as she smoothed it down over him, her fingers unsteady. He smoothed his hands up her thighs as she went back to her elbows, staring at him with turbulent eyes. “One thing,” he murmured, reaching down and wrapping his hand around his cock, biting back a swear as he bumped against the slick wet heat between her legs.

  Her lashes fluttered down, pink staining her cheeks.

  “Jensen.”

  Heavy lids lifted, stared at him.

  “I’m not settling for just one night.” He pressed a kiss to the corner of her mouth, bracing his weight on one hand just above her shoulder. “Get the feeling that you don’t let people in, and I get that. But you’re not allowed to take off running when this is done. You feel it, too. You can’t say otherwise. We figure out what this is. Just don’t run from me.”

  Her lashes swept low. But she nodded.

  It wasn’t enough, but he’d take it for now. With an easy roll, he tucked her underneath him. Thin light filtered in through the blinds and he looked down and watched, rocking against her. She shivered and he smiled, rubbing the head of his cock against her slippery, slick sex. Her hands came up, her nails biting into his muscles. The swollen pink flesh of her pussy felt hot, scalding him through the shield of the condom and he wanted, so bad, to feel her without it, but this was pretty damn good, too, and he grunted as she arched up, trying to draw him in.

  “Quit teasing.” She all but threw the words at him, wrapping her legs around his waist.

  He slid one hand up the back of her thigh, watching her face. “So impatient. I don’t want this over so soon. I’ve only been dreaming about it for more than a year, baby.”

  “Then hurry up already. We can always do it again.” She twisted her hips and then gasped as the head of his cock stroked over her clit.

  “You like that.”

  She whimpered as he shifted around and repeated the movement. The flush on her cheeks deepened. He did it again, and again and kept right on doing it until he felt her body start to tighten against his. “Now.”

  * * *

  The hot, raw silk of his voice scraped over her at the same time he started to push inside and Jensen lost it.

  Eyes locked on his face, breath trapped in her throat, she sank her nails into the taut muscles of his arms and just … fell.

  The most explosive climax of her life ripped through her and he’d barely penetrated her, the thick, blunt head of his cock pulsing against her sensitive flesh, stretching her so very sweetly. Her skin felt two sizes two small, flames licking her up from the inside and she arched, trying to ride the thick pillar of flesh, taking him deeper, but he stayed her with a hand at her hip.

  “Easy,” he murmured. “Easy, baby…”

  Easy?

  Her mind went blank and the climax just kept rolling through her.

  There was nothing easy about this. It was devastating and amazing.

  Then he sank deeper inside her and it started all over again.

  By the time he’d buried his length within her, she was shaking, all but sobbing and desperate. Reaching up, she wound her hands in the thick, dense locks of his hair and pulled his mouth down to meet hers. Deep inside her, she felt the hungry pulse of his cock and she flexed around him in response, crying out against his mouth.

  “Stop,” he muttered. “I can’t…”

  He pressed down with his hips and she shuddered as it ground him against her clit, but worse, his cock jerked again and she broke around him, drawing her legs up to clutch him closer.

  She couldn’t stop it. It was like everything inside her had been waiting for just this moment. Just this. Just him.

  “Aw, hell…” Above her, Dean tensed and then the hand on her hip tightened. The other slid behind her head, fingers twisting her hair. “Fuck, Jensen.”

  She had no time to breathe, no time to think before his mouth came down on hers and even as her climax started to ebb, another built as he started to ride her, his movements harsh, hungry, all attempt at control gone.

  Her name was a ragged snarl on his lips as he came, but she barely noticed.

  She was already falling, for the third time.

  And his arms were there, locked around her and he plummeted with her.

  Chapter Three

  There was the morning after.

  Then there was the Monday after.

  Saturday morning had been easy.

  Dean had made her breakfast in bed.

  They’d had sex so many times, her body was still aching.

  And that night, she’d slid out while he was on the phone with his mom.

  Yes. She was a coward.

  The morning after had been pretty damn awesome.

  It was the Monday … this Monday that had her concerned.

  And he was already in the building.

  Her gut was a tangle as she fisted a hand in her hair and finished writing up a report.

  Toot—his real name was Thomas—Jenkins had found out his wife was cheating on him.

  Toot reacted in a way that was … well, maybe understandable.

  He’d beaten the shit out of the man in question, after finding them in bed together.

  But the man was also his son-in-law, a well-respected dentist, and after finding them in bed and beating the shit out of Dr. Jeffery Archer, he’d also tied the man’s hands together, hooked him to the back of his truck, and driven him down Main Street. Naked.

  He’d gone slow, too. Either he was considerate, or wanted to make sure every soul in town had seen Jeffery’s pale, bare ass.

  Her skin went tight.

  Putting the pen down, she closed her hand into a fist and slowly lifted her head.

  Dean was walking her way.

  Not going to panic. Nope.

  Not going to—

  A faint smile curved his lips.

  People eyed them, while across the room, the other detective smirked. “Watch it, Bell. He might find a way to talk you into just letting Toot go with a slap on ol’ naked Jeffery’s ass.”

  “If anybody gets to slap Archer’s ass, I think it’d be you. Last I heard, you weren’t seeing a lot of naked action,” Dean said, pausing to look over at Jeb. “Not since Adam had himself a good time with your wife. It was on your cruiser, right?”

  Jeb’s face went ugly, florid, and red.

  A couple of strangled coughs echoed through the room and Dean focused on her once again.

  She arched a brow at him as he settled in the narrow chair by
her desk. “You hear a lot of things, counselor,” she said, rocking back in her seat.

  “Yeah. I keep my ear to the ground.” He studied her face.

  Weighing things, she suspected.

  Although it was hard to make herself relax, she managed. Giving him a smile, she said, “How was your weekend?”

  “Enchanting.” That slow smile tugged at his lips and he asked, “Yours?”

  She had to give the man credit. With a lazy smile and a simple word, he turned her heart to putty and also managed to make her clench with want. Mouth dry, she had to swallow before she could say, “About the same.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah.”

  The look that must have been relief melted her that much more. She went to say something else, but in that moment, an odd hush fell over the bull pen. She looked up and her belly twisted as she realized the guys were turning to look at her, one by one.

  “What…” The question died as she caught sight of Chief Sorenson. He stood there, his eyes on her.

  She didn’t even understand why, but the look on his face had the strength draining out of her legs.

  She sagged back, bracing her hips against the desk as he came striding toward her.

  “Jensen, I need to speak with you. Let’s go to my office.”

  “Sir?”

  He reached out, touched her arm.

  Dazed, she looked down at his hand and then lifted her eyes back to study his heavily lined face.

  “Some kids were messing around, down at the river, at the park a few blocks outside of town,” he said, his voice level, pitched low so that only she could hear. “Come on, now. Come to my office.”

  She shoved off the desk, started to move.

  But she didn’t head to his office.

  She started to run.

  By the time any of them realized where she was going, she was already out the door.

  Distantly, she heard the slap of shoes behind her. She put on a burst of speed, but still, he caught up with her.

  Dark, strong hands caught her arms.

  “Jensen!”

  Sucking in desperate breaths of air, she glared at Dean. “Let me go!”

  * * *

  Her eyes were pure hell.

  Reaching up, he cupped her cheek.

  “Calm down,” he said softly. “And I will.”

  “Don’t tell me to calm down!”

  “I’m not letting you run off in the middle of the street.” He shrugged. “Sue me.”

  Her mouth fell open and then, abruptly, she slumped, her narrow shoulders shuddering as she took in one slow, steadying breath. “Okay,” she murmured. “Okay. I’m good. I can walk.”

  He let her go but instead of moving back, he held out a hand. “I can walk with you.”

  She eyed his hand.

  He continued to wait. “You really want to do this alone?”

  She smacked her palm against his and then, as one, they started to move. She was painfully aware of the eyes on them, of Chief Sorenson drawing closer.

  Even more, she was aware of the glittering ribbon of the Ohio, just barely visible through the buildings.

  They started to walk, her heart pounding in her throat.

  The park was only a few blocks away, something she could have reached in two minutes, easy.

  It seemed to take forever, though.

  By the time they got there, Sorenson was at her side.

  And she was clutching Dean’s hand like he was the only thing keeping her from drowning.

  * * *

  The kids were still there, gathered at the edge of the river, while a uniformed cop kept them at a safe distance.

  Thorpe, she thought, her brain going dull. It was Ben Thorpe, his hair buzzed so short she could see his scalp, his hands hooked over his belt while his gaze roamed over everything seemingly at once.

  When he looked at her, he gave her a brief nod before jerking his gaze away to stare at the chief.

  “Did…”

  She licked her lips.

  “Is it my mom?” she whispered.

  Sorenson closed his hand over her shoulder. “I really don’t know what was found,” he said, sighing. “I tried to tell you that.”

  Feeling like an idiot, she nodded. She’d taken off, running out the door like a stupid fool.

  It’s been fifteen years. What do you think they are going to find?

  Leaves and branches crunched under her feet as she walked to the riverbank, uncertain what she expected to find.

  Dean was there, each step of the way.

  It was probably nothing. There had been a few Jane Does, a couple of cars that looked like Mom’s but weren’t. This would be another—

  Her heart stuttered as she caught sight of the car.

  Stuck on some debris, bobbing in the swollen waters of the river, it hung there, like a slight breeze would send it drifting on again, caught on the current.

  It was muddy, so filthy that the red paint was practically obscured.

  Red paint.

  Her heart jumped up into her throat and she shoved the back of her fist against her mouth.

  Her heart stuttered into her chest as she stared at it.

  It was so fucking dirty. But the lines of that car, as familiar to her as the beat-up Camry she drove, slammed into her chest like a fist. Without thinking, she lunged.

  Only Dean’s arms, coming around her in a bear hug, kept her from hurtling down the steep embankment.

  “Let me go!”

  “Easy,” he murmured, his mouth against her ear. “Come on, Jensen. Take it easy. Take it easy. Let’s get her out of there first. Okay?”

  Chapter Four

  Heat rushed up her neck as Dean moved to stand beside her.

  She didn’t want to think about how she’d all but collapsed against him a short while ago.

  Didn’t want to think about how easy it had been to do just that, how natural. She’d leaned on him and it had just felt right. She wasn’t much for leaning on people, but it hadn’t felt wrong at all to lean on him.

  “Are you okay?”

  It felt like there was a knot in her chest, right square where her heart should be and the sound of his voice drew that knot tighter. Focusing on the car the crew was slowly pulling out of the water, she wrapped her arms around her middle. “What’s okay?” she asked woodenly. “That looks like my mother’s car.”

  “That’s a red Thunderbird,” he said, his voice gentle. “There are a thousand of them.”

  “Not here.” She turned her head and stared at him. “You…” She closed her eyes and turned away for a minute, needing to look at something else. Soon, she was going to have to call her brother, her sister … her father. Whether it was Mom’s car or not, she’d have to call them, but she needed to know, first. Was it her?

  She took a steadying breath.

  Dean touched her shoulder gently and she looked up at him. It was easier, she thought, if she looked into his eyes. Like that deep, endless brown gave her an anchor. “But it could be her,” she said, as the numbness started to spread through her.

  “It could be,” he said, sliding his hand around to cup her neck.

  She sighed as the warmth of his hand spread through her.

  “Fuck.” She wanted to turn into him, hide against him. “What if it is?”

  “Then you can start looking for answers.”

  So simple. And so exactly the words she needed to hear. She didn’t want empty sympathy and she didn’t want to hear that bullshit about closure. For her, closure would come when she knew what the hell happened.

  He reached out and ran a hand up her back, settled it high on her spine. “You are going to get through this,” he said.

  Turning her head, she looked at him. She felt like she was going to shatter into a million pieces. For the longest time, she’d felt fragile and unsure of herself, even as she tried to put up a strong, tough front to everybody around her.

  It had taken her years to find her foo
ting again, but she’d done it.

  Now …

  As tears started to choke her, she went to look away but he shifted and caught her chin in his hand. “You’ll get through this,” he said again, angling his head, his body so that she was between him and the fence, his body a barrier to anybody who might be looking.

  A fist closed around her heart.

  Slowly, she lifted a hand and curled it around the lapel of his suit jacket. “I feel like I’m going to break,” she said quietly. “And I can’t do that here, so don’t be nice right now. Don’t be … supportive, or gentle or kind.”

  “Okay. I’ll tell you to man up and stop being a crybaby. Will that help?” He covered her hand, squeezed lightly.

  A watery laugh escaped her. “Yeah. Try to do an impression of Sims or something. He always makes me want to bust his balls.”

  Dean grimaced. “I don’t know if I want you thinking that around me.” He brushed her hair back. “You’re going to need to break at some point, Jensen. If you need a shoulder, I’m here. For whatever you need me for.”

  Then he turned and as one, they looked out over the water.

  “They’ll have it out soon.”

  Her breath came in reedy little pants as she curled her hands around the railing. It felt hot under her hands, too hot. And her heart was racing. Blood roared in her head and her knees went watery as she stared at the car, so close to the shore now.

  “Oh, fuck,” she whispered.

  The back end of the car, now cleared of the water, seared itself on her memory.

  The license plate—

  “Dean…”

  His hands were there.

  “Jensen—”

  “It’s her,” she whispered, staring at the little red stethoscope, just barely visible through the mud.

  “Jensen, what are you—”

  “The license plate.” She swallowed and turned her head, searching for the chief, and the men from the sheriff’s department, several of whom had handled her mother’s disappearance. She felt slow, sluggish, like she was moving through water, but finally, she managed to find the two men she was looking for.

  “You can’t see the numbers yet,” Dean said, his voice tinny, like he was speaking through a tunnel.

  Mud still caked much of the bumper but as she looked back at the tail end of the car, it started to slide off and one fat clump dripped off, revealing another part of the plate. The first three numbers, along with the stethoscope were clear now. The rest of the mud continued to cling, but she could see enough.

 

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