by Desiree Holt
"Jesus, Jamie,” he exploded. “Keep that up and I'll lose all control."
"That's the idea,” she told him, a wicked tone in her voice.
Reaching between her pussy and his thigh, she gathered some of her juices on her fingers, then rubbed them against his anus, softening the tense ring of muscle. She did it again, still rocking back and forth on his leg, the motion of her hand abrading her clit and sending spikes of pleasure throughout her body.
She inhaled a deep breath and let it out slowly. She was too aroused. This was for Zane, not her.
Rubbing her cream against his sensitive spot until she was sure it was well lubricated, she pressed the tip of one finger against the opening, forcing it slowly and gently inside. At first he tensed against it, but when she took his cock in her mouth again and began to jack him with her other hand, he stopped fighting her.
Jamie lifted herself from his thigh and knelt between his legs, lifting her mouth only enough to urge him to bend his legs. With his feet planted firmly on the mattress and his legs spread wide, she had greater access to that dark entrance to his body. And she began her rhythms in earnest.
Her hot mouth sucked the head of his cock, her tongue darting back and forth into the slit, while one hand increased the up and down motion on his shaft and her finger slid all the way into the dark tunnel of his rectum. As he moaned and his breathing grew choppier and choppier, she increased her pace more and more. She had never felt such power over a man, sucking and jacking him while she fingerfucked his ass. The pulse in her vagina throbbed, her inner muscles quivered, and her nipples ached.
She was so lost in what she was doing she almost missed the signs of his impending orgasm until he shouted hoarsely, “Now, Jamie. Now."
His magnificent body arched, she shoved her finger all the way into his ass and sucked hard on his dick as the first splashes of semen hit the roof of her mouth and ran down the back of her throat. Hollowing her cheeks to take him better, she sucked him dry, licking the head until she'd captured the last drop. Only then did she release him, listening to him drag air into his lungs, her hand on his chest to feel the galloping thunder of his heart.
Finally, when he was breathing easier and his heart rate had slowed, she left to attend to things in the bathroom. As much pleasure as he had given her, it thrilled her to be able to do this for him. When she returned to the bed, she was sure he'd be ready to sleep, and he was. Almost. One arm was out-flung to capture her, and his eyes were heavy-lidded with fatigue and sexual satisfaction.
"Where the hell did you learn that?” he asked, his voice slow and relaxed.
"I read about it in a book,” she teased, snuggling against him. “Think you can sleep now?"
"In a minute.” He raised his other hand, and she saw he'd taken the thick silver wand from the nightstand drawer. “I'm not in shape for much else, but I know you're horny and I won't let you go to sleep still aroused. Although,” he said with a touch of humor, “it might not be a bad idea to keep you on edge."
"I'm fine,” she insisted. “You need to rest."
"Oh, I will, darlin'. Believe me. In just a minute."
He rolled to his side and nudged her legs apart. There was no mistaking the cream clinging to the lips of her pussy or the darkening of her beaded nipples.
"Just close your eyes and go with it, Jamie. You need this, too."
Without preamble or foreplay, he slid the wand into her cunt and turned it on. The vibrations rocketed through her body like electrical charges, sizzling her nerves and kicking every pulse into throbbing action. When he pulled it out, she wanted to scream, especially when he placed the tip on her already raging clitoris and moved it back and forth in a steady motion.
She opened her eyes to see him watching her face, his own eyes dark with emotion.
"I know you're close,” he said. “Let me watch you come."
Her hips jerked as he continued to torment her clit until finally she begged, “Now. Please now."
He thrust the wand back into her pussy and twisted the bottom to the highest setting, his eyes eating her up as she came apart next to him. The orgasm swept through her like the incoming tide, washing through every part of her body. Her inner muscles clenched around the vibrating wand, and she squeezed her thighs tightly around it, thrusting her hips in a fucking motion. Her hands went automatically to her nipples, pinching them hard, while Zane took her clit between the knuckles of two fingers and tugged on it as spasm after spasm griped her.
Then it was done, leaving her with an afterglow that suffused her body.
Zane slid the vibrator from her cunt and set it aside. Then he bent his head and took her mouth in a kiss full of so much emotion it brought tears to her eyes.
"Now it's time to sleep,” he told her, turning her to spoon against him.
"And everything is okay with us?” she had to ask before she could close her eyes.
"We're fine, darlin'. If you want to go to Miami, we'll discuss it tomorrow. But we'll decide together. I love you, Jamie. That's all I know."
A sigh of relief escaped her. With his arm tight around her and one leg thrown over hers, her head tucked into his shoulder, she closed her eyes and fell into a soft blackness.
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Chapter Twenty-One
The next week seemed endless to both Jamie and Zane.
The morning following the incident, over coffee, they got Miami out of the way first thing. Zane insisted she needed to confront her boss one last time, give interviews to whoever wanted them so her name could be completely cleared, then tell the asshole he could take his job and shove it.
"With pleasure,” she grinned. “I can't believe I even considered going back to work for him for one tiny second."
"We all need vindication,” he told her. “Our good name is all we really have. But we'll do this together, right?"
She grinned at him. “You bet.” Then she sobered. “And thank you."
His answer was to lean forward and capture her mouth in a kiss that scorched her all the way to her toes.
Jamie brought Kit home from the hospital at noon, and after three days, Kit told her it was time for her to leave. They were sitting among the remnants of Sunday brunch, and Zane was in his den, making phone calls.
"I'd stay forever, sweetie,” Kit said. “But you don't need me around here, stepping on your privacy, and you certainly don't need to spend your time waiting on me. I'll curl up in my hidey hole, and I'll be fine."
"I don't think you should be alone,” Jamie protested.
Kit gave her a hug. “You can't be my caretaker, Jamie. The doctor said I'm fine, and the headache is gone. I wouldn't be going home if I didn't feel well enough, believe me. And you and the hunk don't need a houseguest right now."
They didn't say what they both were thinking. Kit could have stayed at Jamie's, but neither of them ever intended to set foot in that cursed place ever again.
"You know you're welcome to stay as long as you want.” Zane had come into the room so quietly neither of them heard him. “I'm trusting your good sense that you wouldn't go haring off if you still didn't feel quite right."
"Believe me,” she told him. “I can be a real baby. I'm fine, honestly. Besides, I think the excitement around here is getting to be too much for me. I need to get back to the quiet of New York.” She winked.
"All right,” Zane laughed. “When do you want to leave?"
"I'll call and see if I can get reservations tomorrow. That gives you the rest of the day to put up with me."
Over brunch Zane had given every bit of information about the killings, Frank Randall, and the white slave ring to both women, believing they deserved to know it all. He just barely managed to keep a lid on his anger when he got to the killings and the plot to get rid of Jamie. But by now everyone had been rounded up, arraigned, and remanded without bail.
"I think Grayson Ballou was the most shocked of anyone,” he said. “When the feds showed up at his door with a se
arch warrant and one for his arrest, he nearly had a stroke. He's keeping his high priced attorney plenty busy and screaming because the judge wouldn't set bail."
"What about the little girls?” Kit asked. “They had to be frightened to death. What a terrible experience for them."
Zane's face sobered. “And then some. Right now we've got them in a good temporary shelter with some women who'll take excellent care of them until we sort this whole thing out. Skip said many of them were sold to the coyote for money."
"That's just disgusting,” Kit said. “I can't imagine anyone selling their own flesh and blood."
"You'd be surprised what people do,” Zane told her. “Anyway, the authorities won't return them to their parents, so another solution will have to be found."
"And everyone else is under lock and key?” Jamie asked.
"All of them. Manny Alvarado won't see the light of day for a long time. We learned from the coyotes he was siphoning off the youngest girls from each shipment for himself, using them for his perverted appetites and then killing them when he was finished. That's where the two bodies we found came from. We have the unpleasant task of combing the area for others."
"And everyone else?” Kit wanted to know.
"Guests of the federal government,” Zane told her. “Most of them have taken a plea in exchange for a lighter sentence. At least we got the big guys, and that's what counts."
Many other things had come out in the process. Frank Randall had indeed been involved, letting Manny use his property in exchange for money. While he'd used alcohol to forget his part in a nasty situation, in the end he'd gotten too greedy and threatened to blow the whistle if they didn't come through. They nearly went crazy trying to find his stash after they got rid of him. Zane had turned the money over to Skip to be used as evidence.
But Zane had taken the biggest blows of all. While his mother was ranting and raving, he'd learned that his father had also been involved in the traffic in illegals years ago, but his drinking made him unreliable. Manny and Gray had gotten rid of him, and Anita had stepped in to serve as the contact for each deal. Gray had paid her off with money under the table as well as her job and the house in Copper Ridge. He'd had no idea, however, that she expected him to marry her. It was probably the only laugh he had during the whole mess.
Anita's fingerprints were identified as among those on Danny Christopher's money, and she finally admitted hiring him to get rid of Jamie. She had visions of Zane as a rising political star and saw Jamie as a hindrance as well as a public relations nightmare. Zane was still wrestling with the fallout from his mother's actions and involvement.
The media had had a feeding frenzy. It wasn't often that one of the state's top businessmen and kingmakers and the mother of the county sheriff ended up in the headlines. They'd hounded Zane to death, and he'd stoically faced them all, sticking only to the public facts of the case and nothing else.
He had also refused to see his mother.
"I don't know what I'd say to her,” he told Jamie. “She's like someone I don't even know. Besides, I might just kill her for what she tried to do to you."
He and Jamie had discussed what she wanted to do with her house and the property. She knew she wanted to sell it and next week would call a real estate agent to list it. She hadn't yet told Zane, but she wanted the money to be used for the little girls who'd been smuggled up from Mexico, to help them in some way to a better life.
Tonight Zane had come home from the office exhausted but satisfied at last that all the loose ends were wrapped up tightly.
"I feel like I've been swimming in a swamp filled with muck and mire,” he said, stripping off his clothes as he walked up the stairs. “Before anything else I need a long, hot shower."
"How about someone to share it with you?” Jamie teased, following him up the stairs.
He turned to her, his eyes suddenly alive with lust. “That's the best offer I've had in a long while. Come on."
It only took seconds for Jamie to pull off her clothes and toss them in the clothes hamper. Zane was already in the bathroom, adjusting the shower so the enclosure was already filled with a fine, hot mist.
Jamie stepped in next to him, and for a long moment, she stood with her arms wrapped around him, her head on his chest, letting the water wash away the last vestiges of the week from hell. She could hardly believe how much had changed since she'd slunk back to Amen in professional disgrace, hating everyone and everything. The revelation of the sick business one of the state's most admired men was conducting.
As the drops formed on their skin and slid off like liquid on glass, she felt renewed and reborn.
"I feel your mind burning,” Zane teased, his big hand stroking her wet hair. “Thinking comes later. This is the time for feeling."
She looked up at him. “Oh? And what should I be feeling?"
"This.” He pulled her arms from around him, took one of her hands, and wrapped her small fingers around his throbbing cock. “It needs attention. And this.” He reached down between her legs and ran his fingers through the slickness of her slit. “Something else that needs attention."
"And exactly what should we be doing about it?"
"I know the first thing I plan to do.” He lifted her by the waist and stood her on the seat built into a corner of the shower, spreading her legs wide. He took each of her hands and placed them on a wall for balance, then knelt on the tiles.
"Don't move,” he told her. “Stay just like that. When we're finished today, you'll know who you belong to without any doubt at all. And who belongs to you."
Carefully spreading the lips of her cunt, he twirled his tongue around her clit, flicking the tip of it and sending sparks of pleasure shooting through her. She pressed her hands hard against the walls bracing her as Zane used his tongue to explore every inch of her sex. He lapped at her slit until she was shaking with need. She had to grit her teeth to keep from squeezing her thighs together or reaching out to grip his shoulders.
His teeth nipped at her clit, pushing her arousal even higher, as two fingers played tormentingly at her anus. When one finger pushed inside her back channel, she pushed against it, wanting more. The fingers of his other hand drifted lightly over the opening to her vagina without ever penetrating her, and the walls of her empty cunt clenched in desperate need.
Then, suddenly, he stopped.
Jamie stared at him. “What?"
His lopsided smile had the look of the devil. “Just wanted to get your attention. First we finish our shower."
She wanted to kill him. To beat at the solid wall of his chest. To scream at him. But she knew it would do her no good. He was a man with a plan and nothing was going to change his mind.
He lifted her back down to the shower floor and poured some of the shower gel into his hand. Rubbing it into a rich lather, he soaped her entire body, beginning at her neck and working his way down. Her cuts were nearly healed, and the bandages had been reduced to small, watertight strips. She barely felt any pain as his warm hands cupped her breasts, massaging the soap into them. His fingers pinched and tugged at her nipples until she was ready to scream. Every touch sent another electrical charge through her body.
One hand moved slowly through the valley between her breasts, down over her navel and abdomen to the mound of her sex. He added more gel to his hands, more thick lather, and rubbed it into the puffy flesh of her mound and the seams where it joined her thighs.
Apparently satisfied with his work so far, he sat cross-legged on the shower floor, nudged her legs apart, and proceeded to wash every inch of her cunt inside and out. The skin was ultra-sensitive since he'd shaved it, so every touch was magnified. His slick fingers lit hungry nerves as they reached far inside her, massaging the gel into her inner walls. Delicately, he pulled back the little fleshy hood that protected her clit and soaped every inch of that hot, greedy button. Grabbing a wash cloth from a hook, he then wiped away every trace of the soap, maneuvering the pebbled cloth inside her cunt a
nd laving it in and out.
Jamie's legs were trembling, and she could hardly keep herself upright. But it appeared he wasn't done with her yet. Turning her around, he leaned her against the wall while he washed her shoulders and her back, massaging away the soreness of tension. He did the same with her ankles and calves, and the tender muscles of her thighs. Each time his knuckles brushed against the sensitive lips of her cunt, she wanted to push herself down on them, but Zane just laughed a wicked laugh.
When he spread the cheeks of her ass and proceeded to rub the lathered gel inside, she nearly lost it. His fingers moved in the motion of a very slow fuck, touching the nerve endings and heating her blood. Sensations cascaded over her while the pulse in her cunt throbbed stronger and stronger.
When he stood up and handed the gel to her, she wasn't sure she could make any of her muscles work properly.
"Now me,” he grinned and dropped his arms to his sides.
Jamie teased him as much as he'd teased her, spreading lather over his flat nipples again and again and running her fingers over the hard muscles of his chest. She kneaded the rock-like muscles of his stomach, and when she reached his penis, she took her time sliding her soapy hands up and down its length. Her thumb played over the flared head, the pad of it opening the slit and pressing against it. His raged breathing told her he was as aroused as she was, but he wasn't giving an inch.
Not even when she nudged him to turn around, worked his back and waist, then plunged two soapy fingers into his backside. He jerked at the penetration, and a breath hissed through his teeth. She laughed low in her throat and kept up the slow, fucking motion he'd used with her.
Desperate, he jerked away from her and turned around.
"Enough. I don't want to come before we get to the good parts."
He washed his hair, rinsing it thoroughly under the spray, then shampooed hers, his fingers kneading the muscles of her scalp and chasing away any vestige of a headache that might be hiding there.
When they were completely rinsed off, he turned off the water and reached for two large bath sheets. He wrapped one around himself, then toweled Jamie dry and sat her on the vanity bench. Turning on the hair dryer lying on the counter, his fingers sifted lightly through the strands of her hair as he dried it, using a brush for the finishing touches. Then he took care of his own, leaving it loose on his shoulders.