Falling for Water (A Prepper Romance)

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Falling for Water (A Prepper Romance) Page 8

by Arlene Webb

His finger under her chin gave her little choice.

  Her breath froze. Those deep green eyes were lit, thrilled, and his smile promised her the world. He bent to kiss her forehead, soft and sweet, and stepped out.

  She grabbed the soap, smelled his musky scent and blinked back tears when he stopped at the counter. He slapped some face cream on his chin, and did a fast sweep with her razor. Done in a blink, he used his finger to brush his teeth.

  A hard look at her soaping herself and there went his Adam’s apple bobbing again. He mouthed ‘hurry’ and left the room.

  The bra and panties stayed on, but she quickly shampooed her hair.

  She pretended she didn’t catch a glimpse of him in the mirror, standing fully aroused by the bed and watching her bend to the sink as she brushed her teeth.

  When she finished spitting and raised her head, he was gone. She grabbed a towel, briskly dried, and wrapped it around her hair. A fast wipe from the second towel removed water from her body, and she folded it around herself and walked into the bedroom.

  Ray lay on his back on the turned-down bed and gave up mentally fighting with his cock. There were only so many ways to threaten punishment if the bloody thing took charge and ruined a woman’s virgin attempt to do as she pleased. At the sight of Cassi standing in the bathroom doorway, his lungs locked. She had a towel around her head, another tucked above her wet bra, and he stared at her flushed face as she approached. She stopped at the foot of the bed, bent and took off the wrong towel. She shrugged her damp hair back and crawled onto the bed to start drying his legs.

  He opened his arms, and she jerked her chin up. “Hands behind your head. Close your eyes.”

  Dammit. I hate—love—hate—love this girl. He scowled, blinked hard, and did as told.

  His choppy breathing burst into a growly rasp as her warm breath reached his yearning cock, and when her soft, moist mouth enclosed him, his brain fogged. No hesitation, she took him deep, fast and intense, so he had to fight not to go all the way and choke her. His arms trembled, his eyes shot open, and he knew he’d last a minute if he was lucky. She’d left on the damp bra and panties, but at least the other towel was gone.

  She had her eyes closed, her face so beautiful as she pulled him out from between her lips, licked his length, tongued into the slit and didn’t let a drop of pre-cum escape. His breathing gasped past choppy into oh-sweet-Christ rhythm, and his desperation grew. She took him deep into her throat, sucking and swallowing, laid her head down and pushed him to lie partially on his side with legs splayed and one knee up.

  He’d never had a woman suck at him like this before, and he couldn’t believe how well she played him. She drew him to the cusp, down again, hit that pressure point to stall him, and walked the line between exquisite pleasure and the torturous need to come.

  He couldn’t stand it. His fists clenched at the sheet and then released, heat sparked up his spine, and colors burst in his head. He drew one hand down to brace against the bed. His other clasped the back of her head and the fireworks exploded as he emptied into her mouth.

  She milked him, taking every drop, her tongue slowing to calming sweeps as he drained. He collapsed backward when she drew him from her mouth and lay panting, warm kisses of air onto his satiated cock.

  He rose, gathered her up on top of him and took her lips as he fell back down. He could taste himself, and he worked around it, loving it but wanting the flavor of her. She returned his kiss, and when he broke to breathe, she opened her eyes.

  “Cassi…you are amazing.” He kissed her forehead, stroking her back. He slid his hand beneath the bra strap. “Why the bra and panties? Can I take them off?”

  She lowered her gaze. “I’m afraid. I don’t want to have sex without a condom. I’m not on the Pill, and I don’t know…what if Pete gave me something? He wasn’t…didn’t take no for an answer after things started getting bad.”

  Ray’s jaw twitched. “Rather glad he’s dead. Saves me killing him. Sweetheart, you worried I’d mount like a dick without talking about it? I have condoms. In my bag.” He unclipped her bra. “I also like the many ways to please without running for that bag.”

  “You’ve been with a lot of women?”

  “No. Can count on two hands.” He shifted her up and slipped the bra from her to expose perfect breasts. Not too big, tailor-made for him.

  “Oh. I’d have thought hundreds.”

  He grinned and cupped her breasts, rubbing his thumbs over the pebbled nipples. “No, but the ones I’ve been with seemed happy. I’ve learned a secret about women from the moment a special one took my hand, years ago.”

  She blinked at him, and he froze his caress.

  “Listening and paying attention gets me the girl, but I don’t want to share more than a shoulder, or be anything other than a beast of burden for most of them. I’m thirty. My high school sweetheart was with me until six years ago.”

  “What happened?”

  He maintained eye contact and prepared to confide with ease. After all, she’d already shared trauma that shaped her. Seemed fair he should do the same.

  “Beth died. Home invasion. I wasn’t there. I was two states away helping my mom move out when my parents divorced. My dad had a mistress. I still see him, but not often.”

  “Oh God, Ray. I’m so sorry. Did you find who was responsible?”

  “Yes. That’s when I met Lisbon. She threatened to shoot me if I killed him. I believed her. The hardest thing I’ve ever done, but I took my hands from his throat.”

  “He get the death sentence?”

  “Ten-to-life for armed robbery and accidental manslaughter. I didn’t realize until Lisbon told me, but at the time he was only eighteen. He hadn’t meant to kill her. An accident that happened because he broke in, and Beth woke up. Found him in the office beside our bedroom and when she ran, she tripped and fell down the stairs. Broke her neck.”

  “That’s so awful. And why you became a cop?”

  “Yep. I visit him in prison every couple months. I tell stories about Beth and force him to look at pictures in the scrapbooks she’d made and always, he cries. I don’t care. But I also know he looks forward to seeing me. He doesn’t have many people in his life.”

  “That must be hard for you. I can’t even imagine.”

  “Hard, oh yes. Please help with that.” He caressed around her butt, slipping his hand into the front of her panties.

  “Ray?” she gasped.

  “Yes, love?”

  “Is Lisbon counted on one of these fingers?”

  He laughed. “No. She’s obsessed with work and intent on making me into super detective. I’m her protégé undercover guy, and she’s thrilled how easily I blend into most situations.”

  He danced a finger up and inside her, then two fingers, his thumb working as well and Cassi panted, her breathing and coloring telling him she was a firecracker, lit and almost there. “And she likes you, sweetheart, I know she does.” He leaned forward and kissed her. His tongue in sync with his fingers, she gasped her release into his mouth. Number one.

  He didn’t give her time to recover. He flipped her onto her back, tore off the panties and worked his mouth between her legs. His dick throbbed back to life as his hands kneaded her breasts.

  Number two. Tasted so good. He licked his lips, his eyelids heavy and his cock bellowing as he kissed her. After he was forced to allow them to breathe, his cock butting anxiously into her side, she gulped, “Condoms?”

  The bellow turned into full-fledged roar when he hardened his resolve. “Not yet. You need to eat, and I don’t mean me. Although that was wonderful.”

  He hauled her from the bed and said hell no to clothes, but he slapped his dick down, wrapped a towel around his waist, and watched her take the motel robe from the hook beside the door. He tucked the Glock against his back and the towel and dragged his gaze from her. A scan of the indoors, and he returned to memorizing every detail of the only other living thing he could detect in the vicinity.
/>   He got the steaks on the slow-cook section of the grill on the porch, the potatoes wrapped in foil directly about the coals. She lost all interest in chopping veggies for a salad when he wrapped his hands around her from behind. She twisted to face him and his tongue dueled with hers, his cock rubbing and playing between her legs, teasing but not entering, until his balls threatened to crack and her breathing grew uneven. He used his hand, she used hers, and his vision went gray as he climaxed enough to fill a river into her fingers, and she groaned and gasped into his mouth. Number three.

  He almost came again as he watched her lick her hand clean.

  The fat moon dominated the sky. They sat outside in robe and towel and ate fast, the Glock on the arm of his chair.

  Back in the bedroom with the curtains closed, condom on, he managed to last for multiple angles. Number five came right on top of number four and he wondered if he’d killed her. He knew he sprawled like the dead. She shifted her head onto his chest, snuggled under his arm, and her breathing grew deep and slow.

  He’d double checked the locks on the patio and front doors. Before he’d slid the second condom on, while she was distracted with a long drink from that Thermos and not watching, he’d placed the Glock under his pillow. The cell phone rested on the nightstand closest to him.

  His arm wrapped around her, he kissed the top of her head and closed his eyes.

  The buzz of his cell phone snapped them right open, and he eased free of Cassi. The single-digit text—9—from Lisbon had him on his feet, jeans on, and Glock in hand in seconds. Things had gone from quiet to very bad. Nine meant that not only had it gone down fast and violent, leaving her no time to explain because she was either bleeding to death or fleeing, he was also in danger of meeting the same fate.

  He called as he hurried from the bedroom. Went right to voicemail.

  Keys in hand, he ran.

  Chapter Seven

  The faint sounds of an engine, the noise traveling away, woke Cassi from a sex-induced pass-out with a chilling certainty. He’s leaving me.

  She sat up. Ray wasn’t in the bed. The bathroom door was ajar, the low light on. Faint moonlight eased beneath the curtains drawn on the glass patio door and window, casting shadows on the walls of what looked like a bedroom empty of anyone but her.

  She swung out of bed, yanked on the robe, and peeked in the bathroom to see no one.

  After searching without success for the cell phone, she hesitantly walked from the bedroom. The moon hung over the glimmering lake, shining into the living room. All quiet.

  No sign of anything out of order in the kitchen. Her chest tightened. Ray had patiently helped her clean up before he’d carried her into the bedroom.

  Outside, his car was gone.

  He’d been killed and the body driven into the lake? She sincerely hoped instead of that scenario, he’d decided he no longer needed to babysit her from some bad guys who’d lost a few boxes of guns and headed home.

  Her heart sank. No matter how much she’d rather believe he’d be the guy who fucks and leaves, she knew otherwise. He had to be in deep trouble if he hadn’t woken her to say goodbye or taken her with him. Was he afraid her head would get blown off the moment she stepped out the door? Had his been? She hadn’t heard any shots. The loudest noise was the rush of blood pounding from her heart into her ears.

  And that beat jumped from fear to panic as she looked out the large window in the living room. A shadow loomed near the trees adjacent to the dock over the lake. Could be man, bear, her imagination.

  She made sure the front door was locked, hurried for the kitchen, and grasped a skillet.

  Back in the bedroom and despite wondering if the minute could cost her life, she grabbed a shirt and jeans, and conceded to the increased sense of foreboding by skipping the underwear.

  She hurried to the patio door, unlocked it, and left it partway open. Maybe they’d think she’d fled down to the lake. Forget hiding under the bed or closet. If they weren’t already lurking in those spots, monsters always checked there.

  The bedroom door ajar, she crept between it and the wall. If only Ray was okay. She didn’t know much about silencers, but the gun he never let get far from his hip didn’t have any sort of extension thing, and that wasn’t reassuring. It meant maybe he didn’t even get a chance to fight back before the red light had flickered on him, and he’d gone down without a sound.

  Oh God. Her stomach clenched. The silence went from creepy to terrifying as it ended. The noise of broken glass raining onto the wooden floor in the next room reached her ears, and without her hearing the thud of a rock thrown. Someone had broken the window overlooking the lake? Was that someone entering the cabin right now?

  That’d be a yes. Menacing footsteps, surely heavy boots, didn’t even try to hide their presence crossing the living room. She held the skillet in both hands so tightly her arms ached.

  The tall man walked carelessly into the bedroom. Dressed in black, dark ski mask hiding his face, gun in hand, and…he hummed.

  No, it can’t be.

  Low and insidious, the familiar sound wrapped around her heart like a noose. The man halted five feet away from her, in front of the empty bed. He glanced at the open patio door and laughed.

  “Come on, honey. I know you didn’t go hide in that lake. Come out, come out, wherever you are.” He headed for the bathroom.

  But Pete was dead.

  Why would Lisbon, those agents, and most of all Ray, have lied to her?

  Her limbs trembling, she dashed for the wall beside the bathroom door and raised the skillet.

  A second later, a fist slammed into her face, her head thumped against the wall, and she dropped the skillet on her damn toe.

  She didn’t make a sound while a harsh laugh burst out. Rough hands seized her shoulders. “Go ahead and scream, Cassi. Your hero cop isn’t coming to the rescue. I watched him hightail it out of here. The dick didn’t even leave you a weapon,” he looked at the pan at her feet and chuckled, “other than that. Doesn’t the guy know how clumsy you are?”

  “You…you saw Ray leave? He’s okay?”

  Pete released her. He stepped back and pushed the mask up, exposing his face. “Stupid little Cas, you are so gullible. Of course he ran. I imagine he was done humping you and wanted in on more action. There should be plenty of bullets flying in Evans Point right now. He did fuck you though, right? I can’t imagine he’d leave a sweet ass like yours untapped.”

  Her head ached. How was it possible she faced her very-much-alive ex? Maybe she had a concussion from whacking into the wall. Blood from her cracked lip dripped down her chin.

  No, this was real, and she needed to react with something as solid as he was.

  The skillet at her feet? If she went for it, he’d either shoot her or take it from her before she got her arm up.

  Pete stared, his eyes narrowed and angry. “You even think about your dead boyfriend while you were doing him?”

  “Yes. I mean, they told me you were shot.”

  “They told you right. Pete Deming is dead. Dead as you’ll be when I put one in your forehead like I did him.” He glowered. “You grieved me for what, five minutes?” He shook his head. “That’s sad, Cassi, so sad. But despite you being a whore, I do care. Maybe I’ll plug you in the back instead of messing up that pretty face some more. Would you like that, honey, for old times’ sake?”

  Brain reeling, she could come to only one conclusion. If Pete, or whoever he was, wasn’t lying, this man’s presence left her chilled to the bone. He’d conned her, for some reason, months ago? “You stole a man’s identity before I met you, and then forced him to your apartment where you killed him? Why would you do such a thing?”

  “Our apartment, honey. You’re my girl, remember?” He shoved the gun in the back of his pants and ran his hand through his hair. “And you’re a smart girl at that. I’m really going to miss you, Cassi.” He sighed. “Okay, promise you’ll have a better expression than what-the-fuck when I kiss
you goodbye.”

  She swallowed hard. “What have you done? Let me try and help you figure this out. Please.”

  He arched his brows beneath the ski mask worn like a cap. “I’m touched. You’re worried about me, but don’t. I’m golden, honey, golden. No more little cons here and there. I just scored the best payback in history. My asshole boss should be either dead by now or in the hands of the fucking FBI.”

  “Your asshole boss?” She could barely squeak the words out, but conversation was better than…whatever might be the alternative.

  “My boss. Asshole. Calvin Smith.”

  “Calvin?”

  “Biggest supplier of drugs this side of the continent.” Pete grinned. “He’s a…he was a gun nut. Couldn’t seem to get enough. Created an arsenal in a bunker beneath his house in town, and played cowboy on a broken-down ranch, only it wasn’t cow shit he stepped in. He paid a handful of peons, including me, to transport the stream of drugs he had coming down through Alaska.”

  “The office you went to in Denver, all those trips you said were for business for a company that promoted alternate forms of energy? None of that was real?”

  Pete scoffed. He began pacing, his gaze never leaving her huddled with her back to the wall. “My other apartment was downtown, and yes, I worked for the man there, but green energy, my ass. I just told you that to get into your pants, and wow, did you go down easy. I get a measly paycheck from Express Delivery, keys to warehouses, and computer codes. Had to drive my own damn truck between Denver and Evans Point so many times for two years for a bastard drug lord who paid me squat.”

  “You have a home in Evans Point as well?”

  “No. I told you. My boss does…did. He’s hopefully full of lead from your dick lover and his pals by now. Six months ago, I met a woman in Evans Point, and Anne told me of a coincidence. That some screwed-up water-phobic nut she met online had the same last name and first initial as the guy she thought I was visiting but in reality was my employer, and this nut—that’d be you, honey—lived in Denver, which happens to have a suburb called Evans. The means to an end progressed from there.”

 

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