by Kuhn, N
“Mitch,” I scream, running to him. Wrapping my arms around him I bury my face in his chest. He holds me while I sob. As my cries cede, I realize he’s shaking. Letting go of him, he stumbles backwards, falling on his ass.
“No, Mitch, are you okay?” Finally taking a good look at his face, I realize how bad off he really is. They did a number on him. His face is swollen, his arm never moved higher than my waist, his leg is bleeding. Jones rushes up beside him, helping him back to his feet. He reaches out, squeezing my hand and giving me that cocky smile of his. Now is so not the time to think of this, but that smile is the same one he gave me after we had sex. His eyes, though swollen partially shut, sparkle. Jones helps Mitch stand and walk past me, over to Cameron. He’s lying face down on the bed, and I notice again the bandage on Mitch’s leg, the way his arms won’t move and try to not start crying all over again. He’s been through hell, and it’s all my fault.
Lowering myself to my knees, I sob. The Rangers are all downstairs cuffing the Gessatti’s up, swarming around the cabin, talking on their walkies or cell phones, and calling in backup. Slowly, I climb to my feet, heading downstairs. Mitch needs a few minutes to himself. As I leave the cabin, someone is covering Paul with a blanket. Two ambulances and two black Suburban’s fly up the driveway, and in the air a helicopter circles around the place. EMT’s and more Rangers converge on our point. Holding my hands to my mouth, I sit there on the ground, just watching, unable to move. As someone carries Cameron past me, his eyes try to focus on me.
“Don’t worry Kel, we’ll have our time together. He took Penny from me and I’m going to take you. It’s just a matter of time,” he whispers. The Ranger shakes him, causing pain to his bullet wound in his chest. He takes him to the first ambulance. My cries escape against my will and tears flow down my face, burning the cuts from being hit.
Jones comes out, assisting Mitch in walking. He tries to smile at me, but his face is so swollen, it looks painful. Jones walks him past me to the second ambulance. Dodge comes over to me.
“I swear, I almost had a heart attack, but I couldn’t get past the shots that Ricky and Don were sending our way. You okay?” Nodding, I just watch as the EMTs load Mitch into their vehicle. Closing the doors, he’s taken away from me, again.
“Come on sweetie. Let’s get you checked out,” Dodge says, pulling me to my feet. He leads me to where one of his guys hands him a medical bag. He checks out my wounds, putting bandages here and there. Throwing me an ice pack for my eye, he leaves me to go handle wrapping up the scene for the investigators. One of them comes towards me and I sigh, knowing this is going to take forever.
Three hours later and having repeated myself four times, they finally let me go. Dodge drives me home.
“Want to stop by the hospital?” he asks me. Shaking my head no, I just want to go home and get some sleep. The ride is silent. We say goodbye and I drag myself up the stairs. Seeing my bed, I collapse on it, not even bothering to shower or strip down, glad it’s finally over.
Epilogue-
Kelli
A knock at the door drags me from my couch. Sighing, I trudge to the door. I’ve just spent all morning trying to keep my dad from sexually harassing the nurses too much. The doctor said that he should be able to go home tomorrow, which is great news. He’s been there a week already. Looking through the peephole I see a carrier. Opening the door, he looks me over. My bruised face had turned from black and blue to that sickly yellow color.
“Kelli Smith?” he asks. I just nod. He shoves his clipboard at me to sign then tosses me a heavy shoe box. Closing the door, I stare down at the package in my hands. It’s taped shut, so I head to the kitchen, opening a drawer for some scissors. Inside, it’s filled to the brim with envelopes. On top is a note.
Hey Sugar,
Found these when I cleaned out Cam’s place. I told you I wrote you. Apparently he stole both our letters, read them and kept them. Since he’ll be in jail for a long time, I doubt he’ll care that I took them back. You have the option to press charges for attempted rape, but my commander told me that you declined. I wish you would do something, he deserves to pay for his crimes. No matter what though, he’s not family to me anymore. My parents and I had a discussion and though they won’t abandon their son, they understand where I’m coming from. I do believe that you’ve helped change their minds about you. It only took them ten years. So you may need to stop out at the ranch soon for dinner. Your mother keeps asking about you as well.
I’ve read through all of these letters and thought maybe you’d be interested in doing the same. It may fill in some of the blanks for you like it did me. We’ll always be together Sugar. It’s about time you remember that. Call me when you’re done.
M
I groan to myself, I can’t help but smile. He was telling the truth, he really did write. I was hoping he would just sort of disappear. I called the hospital to check on him. They told me his shoulders were popped back into place, the stab wound wasn’t that bad and that he had a lot of superficial injuries, but he would live. I never went to see him. I told myself I don’t need him in my life. But in reality, I’ve just sat around sulking, missing him more than I did when I left all those years ago. Taking the box to my living room, I settle down and begin reading his letters.
Surfacing from my reading, I hear my cell phone ringing. Unable to get to it in time, I see a number I don’t recognize. Six missed calls from it. As it begins to ring again, I answer.
“Hello?” I ask suspiciously.
“Hey Sugar, how’s the reading going?” His deep voice causes my insides to flip flop. A giddy smile most likely covers my face.
“Eh, fine I guess, this book is pretty boring though,” I joke. He chuckles.
“So, can we talk?”
“I guess so, want to meet for coffee tomorrow?”
“No, I want to see you now,” he says just as there’s a knock on my door.
“Hang on, someone’s here,” I say to him, walking over. For some reason I don’t even bother with the peephole. Deep down, I must have known it was him. Upon opening the door, there’s Mitch, leaning against the frame, his cocky smile, sparkling blue eyes. His red plaid shirt makes him look more like a farmer than an office. It fits his bulky frame tightly, those wonderful tats showing down his arm. The top few buttons are undone and I can see his tan skin beneath. It’s smooth and soft. He flashes me his ‘Panty dropping’ smile again and I melt. His face is still all bruised like mine, but I don’t care. It’s the most attractive thing I’ve seen in a long time. Letting my cell phone fall to the floor, I wrap my arms around him. He lifts me from my feet and walks in, closing the door behind him. Wrapping my legs around his waist I cling to him, nuzzling my face into his neck. He smells amazing.
“I had to get out of my parents’ house. They were driving me insane. Oh, and your best friend Penny says hello.” He smirks at me. Punching him in the arm, I give him the stink eye.
“So you’re still seeing Penny huh? Did she come offer herself up as your nurse?” He laughs out loud and the sound rumbles through my body, my pussy clenches.
“Apparently the big rich business guy she married after high school was fooling around on her so she got a divorce. Came back to Concan with half his money and the desperate urge to remarry. Her sights are set on me. You know I always wanted a sugar momma,” he says thoughtfully, tapping his broad chin with a finger. “So, you better get me off the market before she gets her claws into me.” He smiles again, winking at me this time. I punch him again and he winces in pain. Damn I forgot about his injuries.
“Are you, are you ok?” I ask, lightly touching his arms. He just smiles.
“I don’t want her anyways, she can’t beat me up like you can. I’m sort of a sadist. I enjoy you roughing me up,” he jokes. Sliding his hand into his pockets, he pulls out a slip of paper.
“What’s this?” I ask, eyeing him curiously.
“Open it and find out,” he says, his beautiful eyes sp
arkling.
“Oh wow, how did you get this? I’m still going to get paid for the bounty on Billy Joe? I don’t understand. Where was the body?”
“We found it when they cleaned out the cabin there. The Gessatti’s hadn’t gotten around to burying him yet. So I pulled a few strings and got the body turned over and your receipt for his return.” Pulling his face to me, I kiss him with a frenzy that drives my pussy into a frenzy. The feel of his tongue in my mouth soaks me through.
Dropping onto the couch, he moves his face up, looking into my eyes. His gaze of hunger immediately sets my body on fire. His hands slowly moving up my back. With the flick of a wrist, my bra unsnaps.
“Did you just undo my bra through my shirt?” I ask him, trying to suppress a giggle.
“Yes ma’am. It’s a nice little trick I learned back in the day,” he says, trying to look serious. Frowning at him, I pull back a little.
“How many women have you tried it on?”
“Sugar, there’s only one woman I’ve ever truly wanted and she’s sitting on my lap right now.” Grabbing my head, he pulls me down, capturing my mouth with his lips. His tongue forcing its way into my mouth, trying to devour me. His kiss makes my body tingle and beg for more.
Moaning, I rock my hips, rubbing myself against his already hard erection. My hands have a mind of their own, grabbing at his shoulders, feeling the hard planes of his chest. Grinding myself on him, I pull his shirt up, breaking from his mouth long enough to yank it over his head. My eyes go hazy just looking at the massive amounts of muscle he’s packed onto his body over the last few years. Tracing the tattoo on his chest with my finger, he shivers, goose bumps appearing on his skin. Smiling, I lean in, placing small kisses from his ear, down his neck, across the stubble growing on his chin. His hands find the neck of my tee and rip it from my body.
“Hey,” I yell at him. “That was one of my favorite shirts,” I pout.
“I’ll buy you a new one. I’ll buy you anything you want, just as long as I get you,” he murmurs, burying his head between my breasts. He licks and nips at them. When his tongue finds my nipple, he suckles it, biting lightly. Soaking my panties, he drives me crazy. He bends his neck, trying to kiss his way down my stomach, but with me sitting on him, it’s impossible to get too far. Pushing at his shoulders, he winces a little.
“I’m sorry, are they still sore?” He nods, shrugging it off. Standing from his lap, I unbutton my jeans. Slowly lowering them to the ground, he grins at the fact that I was commando. No panties, nothing. He stares at my body, his cock fighting to be released from his pants, straining against the material.
“You amazing Kel. Amazing.” He reaches out towards me and I slap his hand. Placing my hands on the couch next to him, I lower to my knees. I force myself to slow down, but I’m anxious to get those jeans off his body. Button by button, I undo the shirt, torturing him almost as much as myself. Shoving the material aside, I run my fingers up the washboard of his stomach, tracing the lines of his ink covered side. Smiling, I look into his eyes.
“At least you didn’t mess up this art when you got shot.” He laughs, eyes twinkling with mischief. He lifts his hips so I can slide them down. His cock springs up in my face. Long, thick and begging to be inside of me. I lick the head, twirling my tongue around it, looking up straight into his eyes. He sucks in a quick breath as I plunge his cock fully into my mouth. Wrapping my fingers around him, I stroke while my mouth sucks at him, licking him like a popsicle. He throws his head back, moaning with each movement. Moving a little faster, I can’t keep my pace. I’m impatient. I want to feel him, inside of me, buried deep where he belongs but he tastes so good. Removing my lips, I lick at the precum dripping from his dick.
His strong hands close around my arms, pushing me away from my tasty treat. He pulls me to my feet, dragging me back into his lap. His fingers find my clit and deftly maneuver around, my body shaking with his touch. Pulling his cock towards me, I rub my soaking wet pussy along it, relishing how it feels. Pushing up a little, I angle it towards me then lower myself quickly impaling him into me. Sitting still, I enjoy the sensation. The full feeling of being complete. Slowly, I rock back and forth, his hands moving to my hips. I glide along his slick cock with a slowness that will kill both of us. He tugs at my hips and I begin to move faster. Sweat drips down my back and he glides a finger along my spine. I quiver, moving my hips faster as my climax builds in the pit of my stomach. Tensing my muscles, I go faster, unable to hold myself back anymore. Like a wild animal, I buck against his body, searching, begging for my release. Closing my eyes, I throw my head back, panting, crying out. His hand pulls me forward.
“Look at me Kel, show me what I do to you,” he moans. Staring him in the eyes, I slide my pussy against his dick, holding him inside me as I come all over him. Finding his release at the same time, he thrusts his hips up slightly, sending another shock wave of pleasure through my whole body. I shake like being hit with an electrical current. Sighing with pleasure, he turns, lowering me to the couch, curled up against him. His dick still inside of me, he wraps a leg around mine.
“I could live here, just like this, inside of you forever,” he whispers. I just moan, unable to form any words. My eye lids droop, I’m so exhausted from everything. As I begin to drift off, I hear him in my ear.
“We’ll always be together Sugar.”
“I love you,” I say, hoping he heard me. The last thing I feel is his hand stroking my hair and his lips on my forehead.
The End
Catch all of N Kuhn’s titles at http://www.amazon.com/N-Kuhn/e/B008HR897Y/
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Blog http://nkuhnebooks.blogspot.com
About the author: N Kuhn grew up in a small town in Western New York. Having spent her afternoons outside or with a book, she grew up with a love of reading and writing. Her mother and grandmother fully encouraged this in her. Many years later, after a husband and children, she made a promise to her dying grandmother to fulfill her dream of being an author. Her grandmother lived to see N's name in print. This was a turning moment for her. Driven by ambition and a promise made, she has since published several titles including the Mohawk Trilogy, Tucked In, Buffalo Rocker and the Tricks series.
N Kuhn has several other books that will be out later this year. When she's not writing, she is in college for a Business degree, runs her blog, bartends and promotes for other authors. Family and coffee are her two staples in life.
Catch a sneak preview of Jacob (Buffalo Rocker 2) due out this spring.
Part One: Graduation
Chapter 1
I have re-read this note hundreds of times since yesterday. When my parents and I sat down to dinner to celebrate my graduating school, they gave me a guitar, and a letter. I already owned a guitar, but this one looked old, much older than the six string acoustic I learned to play on. The fact that they weren’t my real parents hasn’t quite sunk in yet. A knock on my door pulls me from my stare at the yellowed paper in my hands.
“Will you be on time for church son, you ready for your solo?” Jane asks, hesitating at the door. I feel as if she’s a stranger now. I’m not sure if I’m supposed to still call her my mom or not. Her hair has always been blonde and short, trimmed right above her shoulders, her eyes a dull brown, had always sparkled with happiness. I never thought twice about the fact that I didn’t look like either of them. Right now, I can tell she’s sad, but I am too and don’t have time to worry about it. I need to get to work.
“Trinity has called for you a few times, she said you aren’t answering your cell phone. She’ll be there, maybe the two of you can go down to the lake after service. You probably need someone to talk to.” Her weak smile not reaching her hazel eyes, and I can tell she’s hurt by my reaction. But how would you feel, finding out your whole life had been a lie? It’s not my intentions to hurt her. I don’t know why I can’t just hug her and pretend it
’s all okay. It just isn’t. On top of this, they keep trying to push me towards being with Trinity. I can’t stand it. I can’t stand the unanswered questions either.
“Who was she?” I ask Jane as she turns to head out the door. Stopping, but not turning around, just whispers to me.
“We don’t know. We don’t even know how she knew us. We have your birth certificate, but her name didn’t ring any bells. We tried to find her, but no one was able to locate her. You were left on our porch and we have loved you ever since.” Something in her voice tells me she’s lying. Shutting my door behind her, she leaves me there, alone, feeling like the biggest bag of dirt ever.
Trinity and I have been forced to be friends, if you would call it that, since I can remember. I know she wants more, I just don’t see her like that. Our parents are friends, we were just always pushed to spend time together when they did things. For some reason, I’ve always been more happy alone than with crowds. Trinity is just weird, clingy, and pushy and has this goody two shoes act which is totally fake. In school, she’s a completely different person. She’s only about five two, and wears these funny looking loafers all the time. Unlike most girls our age, she dresses very modestly but tries to act sexy. It’s not working for her. Her parents are severely religious and believe in dressing in baggy shirts and not showing off anything. Even when she wears a dress or skirt, it goes to her ankles. She’s constantly trying to touch me hug me, sometimes kiss me. She doesn’t get the hint that I’m not into her like that and we will never be more than friends. Music is my life. Picking up my mother’s guitar, I follow Jane downstairs, ready to get to work and then church.