Killmore

by Martha Sweeney

  When I realize that she and the dogs are coming in, I rush to the couch and resume my spot, pretending that I’m still asleep. I try to recreate the pose I was in and then slightly move to make it look like I’ve shifted since she came down. I do my best to curb my morning erection, but the sound of her entering the house causes me to hold my breath for a few seconds, distracting me.

  Listening carefully, I can’t make out what she’s doing since she’s trying hard not to make a noise and the only thing I hear are paws bouncing along the stone floor. Suddenly, I feel at least one of the dogs sniffing at me. I remain still, except to pretend to moan and roll slightly away from them.

  “Mable,” Laurie calls in a whisper once one of them jumps on the couch and snuggles into me. “Get down.”

  Mable doesn’t move and I feel Cain adding himself to the pile.

  “Cain. Mable,” she calls again. “Get down.”

  This time, the dogs reply with a low whimper as they follow her command. The feeling of being covered more is noticed and I realize that Laurie’s pulling the blanket further over me. I fight the urge to laugh, surmising that me being shirtless and only wearing boxer briefs is the reason for her actions.

  When I feel her fingers gently graze along my chest, my eyes fly open, my hands snatch Laurie’s arms and I yank her into me while rolling more toward the back of the couch. Laurie lets out a small whoop, not expecting me to be awake.

  “Morning, Pix,” I greet. Before she gets the chance to reply, my mouth smashes into hers.

  “Get the fuck off me,” she commands lowly when she turns her head.

  “Actually,” I begin, “I”m not on you, really.” My right hand skims down the length of her body and I lift her leg so it drapes over my hip.

  “Move,” she directs.

  “No,” I laugh. “God, you’re sexy in the morning.”

  “There are two teenage boys up there,” she comments.

  “They’ll be sleeping for a while,” I suggest. “Plenty of time for us to snuggle.”

  “No,” she challenges, trying to get up.

  “Yep,” I confirm, blocking her more with the weight of my body.

  Laurie tries to pinch me, so I pin her arms behind her. As she tries to use her feet to push me away, I trap them between mine and call the dogs onto the couch to join us. They don’t hesitate to do so.

  “Come on,” I coax. “We’re having a moment.”

  “No, we aren’t,” she argues.

  “Yeah, we are,” I chuckle. “You need to learn to lighten up.”

  “Nope,” she returns.

  With a smirk, I move my face closer to hers, studying every little muscle movement, eye twitch, pupil dilation and goose bump that occurs within my immediate and peripheral sight. “Good morning,” I greet.

  Laurie stays quiet.

  My eyes drift down and find her nipples erect. “Looks like someone’s excited,” I tease.

  Laurie’s face is stoic and unmoving.

  “We could have done this all night,” I mention. “Keeping each other warm and cozy.”

  “Nope,” she replies coolly.

  My lips return to hers, needing to feel her, taste her. It takes a few seconds before her body begins to relax as she returns the embrace. I let go of her arms, sliding my fingers along every inch of her body that I can. Cupping her face, I press my tongue inward, deepening the kiss. Her tongue happily greets mine as our bodies shift to become more comfortable. I let out a moan when her hands touch my waist and move up my arms.

  “Ow,” I groan as Laurie uses her body to pin me.

  “Serves you right,” she laughs, lifting herself and then suddenly plopping back down.

  “Hey,” I whine. “I gotta pee.”

  “That should teach you,” she states playfully as she rises off the couch.

  “I let you attack me,” I lie, disappointed that I allowed her distract me enough be able to outmaneuver me.

  “Right,” she giggles.

  When she thinks she’s clear from me trying anything else, I snatch her by the leg and pull her back down onto the couch with me. We roll for a few seconds until I get her pinned under me.

  “I can still get out,” she informs, squeezing her thighs around my waist.

  Wanting to push limits, I grin and press my erection into her sex. “Really?”

  Laurie’s hips buck slightly and her pupils widen.

  “Looks like someone is enjoying this,” I tease.

  She takes a slow, controlled breath in and out, trying to regain her composure.

  “Don’t worry,” I soothe. “I’ll let you up.”

  Laurie’s brow furrows. “Any time now,” she comments.

  “Not yet,” I laugh. “I want to enjoy this a little longer.”

  She huffs.

  My head lunges forward and makes contact with her neck, wanting to press boundaries more and knowing she can’t block me like she could with a kiss. Laurie’s head presses down while her shoulder presses up in an attempt to stop me, but I continue, especially when I hear a small moan escape her lips.

  “God, you smell good,” I breathe into her. I shift to get a better angle and her arms move to break free.

  From the way her body is tense, she definitely could escape, but she doesn’t. It’s either because she’s trying to downplay the fact that she can and doesn’t want me to know, or she’s enjoying our embrace much more than she’s willing to admit to me, let alone herself.

  After several, slow, deliberate licks of her neck, my mouth trails up her chin and finds her mouth. She relaxes more, giving in once again. Testing what she might do, I let go of one of her arms and moan with pleasure when her fingers grip into my hair all while her mouth stays locked with mine. We move together, both pulling the other closer.

  Right as I reposition myself so I can press my erection back between her legs, I let out a yelp from her fist making contact with my dick. “What…the…fuck,” I groan.

  “It didn’t hurt that bad you big baby,” she laughs, sliding out from under me.

  “You got it good enough,” I whine through gritted teeth.

  “Serves you right,” she muses.

  “Please,” I say. “You were enjoying it.”

  “Was not,” she denies.

  “Check your panties, Pix,” I goad. “They’re wet.”

  “No,” she returns with squinted eyes.

  “Ha,” I muse. “You know it. That’s why you’re picking your wedgie.”

  Laurie doesn’t comment and heads back up stairs. I get my bag and make my way into the bathroom to change, anticipating working out with her this morning. Noticing that her door is still closed, I fold the blanket and put it and the pillow back in the closet and then make my way over to the monitor to check for any movement at Quintin’s. I keep the volume low in the headset, hoping to be able to hear when Laurie and the dogs have come downstairs.

  Five minutes later, the dogs are by me before I get the chance to respond to hearing them. Cain and Mable are completely comfortable with me now, playing and just chilling with me whenever I’m around. The three of us play a game of tug-of-war with one of their rope toys and I catch Laurie watching from a distance as she makes something in the kitchen.

  “We running this morning?” I ask, jogging over to her.

  “I am,” she comments.

  “Don’t be like that,” I say.

  “There are two teenage boys in the house,” she reminds.

  “Yeah, so?”

  She glares at me.

  “What do you think parents have to deal with as their children get older?” I mention.

  “We’re not parents,” she comments.

  “You know what I mean,” I reply.

  Laurie’s face softens. “Just tone it down.”

  “Okay,” I agree, wrapping my arms around her waist.

  “This isn’t….”

  “Shh,” I interrupt. “I’m just holding you. I promise I’ll behave when the kids are arou
nd.”

  “You shouldn’t be touching me at all right now,” she states.

  “Just relax,” I coax, sliding my hands up her body and start massaging her shoulders.

  Laurie’s body tenses slightly, but then it gradually softens, giving in to my touch. A small moan echoes in her throat as I kneed the knots in her body. My hands gradually work on her muscles, slowly making their way up to her neck and down toward her lower back. Her head falls into the crook of my shoulder as I tend to the kinks that reside just above her ass.

  “See,” I say softly in her ear.

  “You’re not so bad when you’re not trying too hard,” she comments.

  “I could do this all day,” I offer.

  “I doubt that,” she muses. “Your hands would cramp up.”

  “It would be worth it,” I reply.

  Turning my head, my lips find her cheek. She doesn’t seem to mind the added affection until I go for her mouth.

  “We need to go for our run,” she comments, pulling away.

  “What about the boys?” I check.

  “They’ll sleep for at least another two or three hours,” Laurie informs.

  “Then, why don’t we embark on a different kind of exercise,” I suggest.

  “Uh, no,” she turns down flatly.

  “Can’t blame me for trying,” I say, shifting my cock so it’s not poking through as much.

  Laurie watches me and I swear I see a pleased, smug look on her face just before she rolls her eyes.

  After our run, Laurie and I stretch and then she goes over to the punching bag. I watch every little movement of her body, becoming aroused and yet, at the same time, mesmerized by her ability and control. The woman doesn’t miss a beat or punch. Her focus is completely on the bag as if I and everything else around her has vanished. Her eyes twitch, exposing figments of the layers of emotions that she keeps locked well below the surface. Each thrust of her arm, each time her fist makes contact with the bag, is like a bullet shooting toward its target: precise, on point, and deadly.

  “What?” she says suddenly.

  “What?” I return.

  “Why are you looking at me like that?” she asks.

  “Like what?” I reply.

  “Never mind,” she comments.

  “You’re amazing,” I sigh.

  “What?” she returns with a nervous giggling. She stops punching momentarily.

  “Your control,” I say. “Each movement is as if it’s accurately planned several punches beforehand.”

  “Years of practice,” she comments, brushing it off.

  “How are you one-on-one?”

  “What?” she replies.

  I lift a brow.

  “It’s been a while,” she mentions.

  “We should practice together sometime,” I suggest.

  “Why?”

  “Because, it’s not the same when you aren’t taking hits,” I remind.

  “I know,” she baulks. Laurie removes her gloves. “If the boys aren’t up by the time I’m done showering…you can…use mine.” Her face winces a little.

  “I promise I’ll be on my best behavior,” I reply truthfully.

  The only misbehaving I want to do involves us being naked and my cock deep inside her. If I’ve got to tone it down a little just for that to happen, I’m all for it because I know it will happen. It’s just a matter of time now. She’s wound like a pin on a grenade just waiting to be pulled and released.

  Twenty minutes later, the dogs come to my side while I’m doing another quick monitoring session of Quintin. Laurie leads me upstairs, barely letting me take in the view of her room. However, I do notice a few things since yesterday and fantasize about us being in here together. Her bed is king-sized which is perfect for rolling around naked. I finally find a small pot of the lavender which I smelled but didn’t see yesterday. She tugs me into the bathroom and I almost comment about her wanting to get me naked, but I refrain, wanting to stay on her good side.

  “Towels are here,” she says, pointing to a closet. “You can use my soap…so long as you don’t use it all up.”

  “Why would I use it all up?” I ponder.

  “It’s a tankless water heater,” she adds. “So, you won’t run out of hot water.”

  “You think I’ll stay in here…using up all your soap to….”

  “Don’t,” she instructs.

  “I have no shame, Pix,” I laugh. “I have my own soap for those moments.”

  “That…I did not need to hear,” she states.

  “You like it,” I challenge.

  “You have twenty minutes,” she informs, setting a timer on her watch.

  “What if I’m not done in twenty minutes?” I inspect.

  “I’ll drag you out,” she states.

  “What if I’m still in here…naked,” I ask, gesturing to the shower.

  Her eyes trail the length of my body. “If you’re still in the shower…fine…but, if you’re in my room snooping…I’ll drag you out.”

  “Will you join me if I stay in the shower?” I ask.

  “No,” she says coldly.

  “If they weren’t here, would you?” I press.

  Her eyes narrow. “No.”

  “I don’t believe you,” I goad.

  Laurie pushes past me. “Twenty minutes.”

  “By the way, I love the smell of lavender in here,” I tease.

  Thirty Five - Laurie

  Aiden was actually a gentleman the rest of the time we were with the boys and even well after we dropped them off at home. Afterwards, Aiden and I went to go see a movie at the theater. He was very excited to find out that there’s always a showing of an older film and was even more enthusiastic when we found out that it was Blade Runner. After having dinner at the cafe, Aiden and I went back to my house. He packed up his stuff and left without trying to stay. I was shocked when he didn’t try to kiss me either.

  It’s been two days since he’s stayed the night and the house has been back to its usual quietness. The dogs and I have been able to catch up on some much needed investigation of Quintin since I now know is last name is Carroll. Unfortunately, the feed isn’t revealing anything, and the only thing that I’ve found are details about Quintin’s last name from searching online. Carroll is of Irish origin and has undergone many variations since its genesis. There are some search results for a Quintin Carroll, but there are also other listings with the first name spelled Quinton or Quinten. To add to that, the search becomes confusing and endless with all of the different alternative spellings for Carroll itself. Since I’m not sure of the exact spelling, my specific search ends until a later time.

  There is an interesting fact that I come across in my search. One of the signers of the Declaration of Independence was a Charles Carroll. Apparently, Charles was one of the wealthiest men in America as well as the oldest and longest surviving signer who also partook in politics. When I check the number of people listed with the last name Carroll, historical documents show that there are or have been over three million people with the last name spelled as C-a-r-r-o-l-l. I believe that there’s a chance that Quintin could be a descendant of Charles, but the same level of influence and power? There could be a connection, but then again, it does appear a little too obvious.

  Aiden isn’t scheduled to stay the night until tomorrow, so this morning I head to the range with the dogs after our run and then make the remainder of the trip out to the tribe. Knowing that the Chief and the whole family will be in the village, I head straight there, hoping to talk with them more about my findings.

  When I make it back into town, I stop by Aiden’s, needing to keep up the appearance of our fake relationship. They invite the Lenards, Trudy, and her boys over for dinner, offering to host for the first time. The house was definitely cleaned since the last time I was here and they were able to hide all of the equipment, making it look more like a home than a stakeout. They even brought in some more furniture too. Conversations are relaxed for the n
ext few hours as we barbecue, drink, and eat well past the sun setting. Gerald and Esther laugh a bit as they tell stories about everyone around the table. At some point, the rest of us split into teams to play basketball once all of the vehicles have been moved to the street while Gerald and Esther act as cheerleaders.

  By ten in the evening, it’s just Paul, Aiden and me with the dogs, relaxing at the table on their back deck. We each have a beer in hand and Aiden is still sitting close to me as if everyone was still here. I don’t mind as much since he’s been much better lately, not pushing in public or private. I’m not quite sure what to make of it, but the guy isn’t bothering me as much. It’s like I’m getting to see more of the real Aiden.

  By eleven, we’re inside chatting and Paul and Aiden bring up the topic of their case. I refrain from mentioning anything regarding my findings for several reasons. For starters, I don’t want them to know that I’m spying on Quintin, tapping into their line or know that I’ve been doing some of my own research. On top of that, I don’t need them questioning me, as if I might be a suspect or have some kind of a direct connection to Quintin. The only connection is from my involvement with Antonio which is just a coincidence that he and Quintin are both men of high interest to the U.S. government.

  “Do you have any idea’s about how to get into the country club, Laurie?” Paul asks sweetly.

  “Isn’t that your job?” I question sarcastically, despite knowing there’s one chance, but don’t want to share.

  Paul takes a swig of his beer and looks to Aiden.

  “Someone who is a member there needs to invite you to join them for a meal or to become a member,” I explain.

  “Do they ever have an event for the public or a charity event that allows non-members to attend and get on the grounds?” Paul searches.

  “Kind of, but not really,” I share. “This is a very old good ol' boys kind of club. They sponsor events like the fair, donating lots of money and resources, but it’s in the main part of town. They don’t mind some of the docks being used, but not the country club house and other buildings that are on and around the golf course…hence the tall fence.”