by K. R. Haynes
She could see the worry he felt as it was clearly evident in his eyes as he stared back at her. Whatever was going on with him, she knew then it was costing him big time. Her eyes suddenly stung with unshed tears, not because he had yelled and growled at her but because the man she was in love with was hurting and she didn’t know why or what she could do to take his pain away.
“Mick, please talk to me. Tell me what’s going on here? Is it me that you’re angry with or is it something else? Please, Mick, I need the answers, sweetie.” Mary J was well aware that she sounded like she was pleading to him, but right now she didn’t give a damn. If Mick was planning on dumping her then he could at least man up and tell her to her face that they were through.
Relief flooded her when he shook his head at her and told her it wasn’t her. “Then what is it, Mick? Please tell me, I can see you’re hurting from something but I can’t help you if you don’t open up to me and let me in.”
“Maybe I don’t want you to know, Mary J. Did you ever stop to think about that before you came barging up here unannounced?” He blew out a harsh breath then that sounded much like defeat to her. “Please, just go. Leave me alone and for your own safety never come back here again.”
Mary J just stared at him wide-eyed and speechless as Mick turned away from her and sombrely headed up to his house.
She stood there for several long minutes thinking about what he said to her, all the while hoping that he would come back for her. But he didn’t. He wanted her to go and never come back? Not likely. She most definitely wouldn’t walk away from the man who just told her to. She was stubborn and born a redhead for a reason, her grandmother had always proclaimed to her. Mary J knew now what her grandmother had meant by that.
Squaring her shoulders and lifting her chin up, she stomped her way up to his back door and was only mildly surprised to find that he hadn’t locked it on her. So maybe his words of “go away” held little to no truth in them after all. Maybe, just maybe he said them to release some of his pent-up frustration. Quietly, she stepped inside his house and tiptoed through the rear rooms in search of her tortured man. Just when she was about to give up on finding him, Mary J heard what sounded like a fist colliding with a wall and headed in that direction. Seeing Mick clenching his right hand to his chest and the blood welling on his knuckles, she rushed over him.
“Ah shit, what have you done to yourself, sweetie?”
When he tried to push her away, she pushed him back, hard, until his ass met the chair behind him. Pointing her finger at him she told him to stay put and then ran into the kitchen to grab a damp cloth and some ice from the freezer for his beaten-up hand. To say she was relieved to find him still sitting in the chair where she left him was an understatement. He refused to meet her eyes, though, the whole time she cleaned and attended to his wound.
Once she was finished wrapping the ice around the swelling already building on his hand, she crouched down in front of him and cupped his face in both her hands. She had to hide her reaction from him, at the feel of his week’s worth of growth tickling her palms.
“Damn it, Mick, look at me and tell me what the fuck is going on with you. Christ, you’ve just beaten the shit out of your hand and the wall, sweetie.”
“Watch your language, Mary J,” he growled warningly.
“Fine, I’ll watch my language if you tell me what’s going on with you. Please, Mick, I can’t stand watching you hurt yourself anymore. Once was enough. Now speak or so help me god I will make you talk, Mick Huon, and we both know I will succeed at it.”
He grunted at her and for a brief moment she thought that was all he was going to do. Then he bent down and gathered her up into his arms and hauled her onto his lap. Her head fell naturally onto his shoulder as she snuggled up closer to him. She didn’t say anything to him. It was his time to talk to break the silence surrounding them. Feeling him rub his cheek over her hair, Mary J reached up and slipped her arms around his neck and held him tightly, knowing that sooner or later he would open up to her.
A few long moments passed by them before he spoke even a word to her. The timbre of his voice had her chest aching for him and tears welling in her eyes once again. “I…I’ve been accused of a crime I did not commit and there isn’t a damn thing I can do to fix it to prove my innocence.”
“Then let me help you, Mick. Let me help you fix it so we can prove you’re innocent, sweetie.”
“I can’t allow you to do that for me, sugar.”
“Sure you can. You know my grandmother didn’t call me stubborn for any old reason so let me help you or I will show you how stubborn I can be.”
His harsh chuckle in her ear was better than no response at all.
“I appreciate the offer, sugar, really I do, but I can’t get you involved in this. It’s bad enough that I ended up getting caught up in this mess, let alone adding you to the mix.”
“I wasn’t offering my assistance, Mick, I’m demanding that you let me help you.” Gazing up at him through lowered lashes she saw a slight tug of a smile forming at his lips. Reaching up she lazily ran her fingertip over those same hard male lips. She missed the feel of his lips moving sensually over her softer, more feminine ones. It had been a long time since he kissed her and equally as long since she had taken his lips with hers.
As soon as his mouth parted slightly for her, she slipped her fingertip inside. The feel of him lapping and sucking on her finger had goose bumps forming on her skin almost instantaneously. She could feel her desire for him rising and her core was moistening, readying itself for his possession of it.
Her gaze never left his as he ran his tongue over the very tip of her finger. More heat bloomed within her core and her blood pumped noisily in her veins. He always seemed to have this effect on her, made her senses heightened just from a simple touch or caress. She knew then that he was hers just like she was his. All she had to do was prove it to him, and if that meant right now then she would.
Lifting herself up from his lap, Mary J stood before him and gripped the front of her sweater and pulled it up and over her head then threw it to the floor. She then reached for the fly on her jeans and slowly drew the zipper down. Then she gradually slid the dark denim down her long legs. The whole time she undressed for him her eyes remained steady on his. She could plainly see the effect she was having on him by the way his silvery grey orbs darkened with passion.
Standing before him in just her pure white barely-there lacy bra and matching panties, Mary J then straddled his lap once again. Staring him straight in the eyes she told him, “If you want to see more, Mick Huon, then you’re going to have to give me some more answers than the mediocre ones you’ve given me so far, sweetie.”
She had to stifle her laugh at hearing Mick clear his throat once, twice, then a third time before he even uttered a single word to her. She could feel the effect she was having on him by the hardening bulge protruding into her, and the longer she remained astride his lap the more it hardened. The throbbing of her clit was a damn distraction too and it took everything she had within her not to grind against his hardening cock to find some relief.
Whatever was going on with him, it was pretty obvious to her it was serious. So her plan, devious or not, was to get him to talk to her. Then she would reward him any way he liked afterwards. She just hoped it was a pleasurable way.
Her body quivered and a soft whimper left her lips at the feel of his large, rough, callous hands wandering over her bare skin, caressing and soothing it. The deep rumble of his passion-laced voice had more moisture leaking from her core and dampening her panties further.
“You look like a damn virgin, sugar, in all that white lacy stuff. Damn you’re so fucking sweet too. Christ, do you know what you do to me, Mary J? What this hot little curvy body of yours does to me.”
Of course, she knew the effect she had on him. She could feel his cock growing and hardening beneath her. She decided to play coy though and act like she had no idea what he was talking
about. “No I don’t, but maybe you could show me later on exactly what I do to you, after you tell me what’s up with you first.” Leaning in, she whispered into his ear, “And I don’t mean your dick when I say what’s up with you either, just so you know.” Feeling a little daring straddling his lap half naked, Mary J reached down and cupped his hardening length in one of her hands and squeezed it lightly. She smiled coyly up at him when he groaned long and low in the back of his throat.
“Fuck! Damn you’re a dangerous woman, has anyone ever told you that before?”
She leaned in and brushed her lips lightly to the side of his neck before nipping at the taut skin with her teeth and whispering, “Only you, sweetie, only you.”
Hearing Mick hiss out when she nipped at his neck again brought a devilish smile to her lips. But the unexpected slap she received moments later from him to both her outer thighs had her yelping and glaring up at him. The warmth she could feel rising to her thighs where he slapped her surprised her. It also pushed her aroused state to an even greater level and ignited a deeper need to receive more of that discipline from him too.
“It’s time to get up and get dressed, sugar,” he told her in a slightly deeper voice than before as she slowly uncurled herself from his lap.
“But, Mick…”
“But nothing, Mary J. If I’m going to have a serious conversation with you, I damn well can’t do it with you sitting on my lap half fucking naked, even if I wanted you to. Now get dressed then come out to the front room. I need a damn whiskey if I’m going to spill my guts to you.” He grumbled the last part to her while walking toward the door.
Mary J watched Mick stride from the room and quickly began jerking her clothes back on so she could hurry after him. The sooner they could get this tough conversation over with the quicker they could move on to getting naked and thoroughly busy exploring each other’s bodies. So far, only Mick had the pleasure of seeing to her pleasure. She hadn’t touched him intimately at all. That was all about to change and soon, and she was so excited about the prospect of exploring his body. She could barely contain her excitement at having her wicked way—finally—with him, that she almost stumbled over her own damn feet racing down the hallway to catch up to him.
Chapter Twelve
Mick couldn’t believe his own eyes when he had looked up from the hood of the rust bucket of a car he had been working on for hours, to see Mary J standing there, looking fucking gorgeous as always. For the first time in days, his heart bloomed with warmth just from the mere sight of her. Even his damn dick had stirred to life which was beyond a fucking miracle, because over the last few days it had been as limp as a wet dishrag. Hell, he had even considered seeing the doc about the, ah, limp-dick thing. But apparently that issue had been well and truly fixed from just the mere sight of her.
It amazed him that when he was down and out, somehow Mary J managed to find her way to him. It also humbled him knowing that she was here just for him and no one else. He was never more grateful than he was right now to have a woman like Mary J in his life. No matter how much of a hard-ass he was on her or how much he pissed her off, he knew that she would always be there for him no matter what. The truth of that knowledge made him even more determined not to take advantage of her generous nature. He had to tread lightly when it came to her or he could end up losing her completely.
His bruised ego couldn’t take another hit like that right now.
Christ, what was he meant to tell her though, that he was suspended from the Bomb Squad because the powers that be were trying to build a case against him to prove that he had some kind of involvement in a woman’s murder? Not fucking likely. If he did tell her that then she would probably bolt from him, and why wouldn’t she? He had been all but accused of murder for fuck’s sake. He would run far away from him too, if he was in her shoes.
After almost a week of complete solitude though, Mick found he was aching for a little human contact for the first time in days. Obviously his plan of laying low and staying out of sight must have worked a little too well, if Mary J had been worried enough about his sorry arse to come all the way out here to see him. And he nearly screwed that up too when he opened his mouth big and spat out some vile spiel to her. Luck was on his side for once, and she had the common sense to see past his bullshit and confront him on it. Then she had the balls to turn the tables on him, and stripped out of her clothes and held him ransom with her almost naked body by telling him to talk or basically she would walk.
No way was he allowing that to fucking happen.
She was not walking away from him. Not now, not ever.
She was his woman, and he’d be damned if he would give her any reason to walk away from him. However, hearing her give him that ultimatum had him in two minds about whether to rip her skimpy underwear shielding her nakedness completely from his view and throw her over his knee and slap that fine ass of hers for giving him that sassy attitude. Or just kiss the living hell out of her soft pink lips for bringing him back to life by actually speaking to him in that manner. One thing he knew for sure was that she would always challenge him no matter what mood he was in. It was a challenge he looked forward to receiving daily.
Mick had always wondered if Mary J would have the fortitude to one day top him if he ever pushed her too far with his hardheaded attitude. And if she did prove that she could do it, what would she do to him? His cock stirred even more to life at the thought of her tying his ass down and torturing him with a flogger or some other wicked sex toy he kept to sexually torture his lovers with. His new shipment of play toys had arrived the other day too. The blue ostrich feather and the new pussy flogger were calling his name, begging him to use them on her. He couldn’t wait to see her fair skin come alive as he tested out his new orgasm-enhancing toys on her.
Pouring himself a double shot of whiskey from the bar in the front room, Mick threw back the shot and relished the heat the whiskey gave him. Feeling slightly calmer, he settled down on the couch and waited for Mary J to join him. His head was pounding, not from the whiskey he just consumed but rather from the events of the past week. It seemed like everything was catching up to him today. His lack of sleep and the physical exhaustion he pushed his body through daily, since his suspension from the Bomb Squad, wasn’t enough to drown out the pictures of Lucy Walker’s mutilated body from his mind though.
God, he would give and do anything to get those damn pictures out of his head. Every time he so much as closed his eyes he saw her dead corpse and the blood surrounding her. There was so much fucking blood. He could smell it around him and on him every time he so much as closed his eyes to rest for a bit. His hands may not have hurt Lucy or placed the stab wounds to her torso or slit her wrists, but they sure felt stained with her blood.
The first few days of his unwanted suspension, he had spent hours scrubbing his hands in the bathroom until they were almost raw. There was this need within him that was driving him to scrub the unseen blood from his own flesh. The harder he scrubbed, the worse it got, until it had driven him crazy. Mick was ashamed to admit that he had broken down at seeing his own blood dripping into the white porcelain basin. With his tears falling unchecked down his face, some of the guilt and the pain he had harboured at seeing those pictures of Lucy’s murdered body began to dissipate. So he made the decision then to punish his body hard by putting it through a gruelling regime, which consisted of a twenty-mile run in the morning, then an hour of lifting weights before heading out the back to work on one of the broken-down vehicles out in the rear sheds.
If he could punish his body enough, then maybe all those things he had lost control over lately, like his job, his life, and his never-ending need to be with Mary J, then maybe he could regain some of it back and have what was important to him close at hand once again.
During the past week, he had barely eaten and Mick knew he had lost some weight because of it. His diet over the past week had mainly consisted of water, several shots of whiskey, and if he thought he
had punished himself enough during the day, he would allow himself to have a bowl of pasta at the end of the night to keep his energy levels up. He knew he couldn’t continue pushing his body like this. That he had to somehow find the will to stop. The problem was he didn’t know how to stop.
Seeing Mary J in the flesh and having her lay into him and calling him out on his own bullshit gave him reason enough to find a way to put an end to his enforced punishment. If she asked him to stop then he could, only because she asked him to. For anyone else he would tell them to go to hell. But for Mary J, he would do absolutely anything to please her, just like she always pleased him by loving all his faults and failures. Mick realised then that when he was around Mary J, she made him want to be a better man, and he wanted to be a better man for her and only for her. He just hoped that after he spilled his guts to her, that she would accept yet another one of his flaws and could still find it in her heart to care for him just like he cared for her. Hell, he didn’t just care for her, he loved her. He goddamn fucking loved her and that was nothing short of the damn truth.
God, he missed her like crazy over the past week. Not being able to hear her laugh or see her smiling or even smell her sweet scent had driven him close to almost breaking point. He loved her. He knew that. However, this forced separation he had enforced for the two of them had made him realise just how much he had fallen for her. Her feistiness and her sassy attitude was a soothing balm to his darkened moods. He felt lighter in spirit just by being near her, and holding her in his arms as she snuggled into him had been something he had longed to do again and again.
This enforced separation had not only hurt him, but it also hurt her. He could see it in the way her eyes had black smudges underneath them from her lack of sleep. Her skin seemed paler to him too and her hair lacked the usual lustre it normally held. She also looked like she had lost some weight too. Talk about calling the kettle black, Mick.