When he finished shaking, and she’d finished trembling, he pulled back to check her face, wondering how she was doing. What her reaction was going to be.
Her blinking was rapid, and as she focused on his face there was the slightest smile curling her lips. “Wow,” she whispered, eyes sliding shut.
“Yeah, wow,” he had to agree, then kissed her forehead. “Holy shit, Momma.”
“Holy shit. Exactly.”
They shared lazy smiles, and he wondered if he’d ever felt this way after fucking before. And while he hadn’t intended for this to happen with Danielle, the first time, rough and fast on the edge of the bathroom counter, there was no denying the end effect would have been the same.
Shit, he was falling for her.
“Lemme clean this up,” he muttered, easing out of her slowly, enjoying the slide. She gasped, hands tightening on his shoulders. “You okay?”
“I’m good,” she replied, almost sleepy. “So, so good.”
“You’re kinda cute after fucking.”
“Am I?”
“It’s a good look on you.”
She gave a little laugh, and he helped her hop off the counter. She swayed a little, and that made his chest puff out that much more. “Easy there, Momma. You got your feet?”
“I’m okay.” She covered her chest with her arms, looking around for her shirt. Then she realized her pants were right there so she stepped into those and pulled them up, avoiding his gaze as he pulled off the rubber and ran the water. She pulled her shirt on, and he finished his clean up before pulling up his jeans. They were quiet, not looking at each other, and he wondered at how he could possibly be feeling a little bit shy. But maybe that was her reaction, he was just picking up on it. Who the hell even knew?
“I should head back home,” she said, tucking her hair behind her ear and staring down at the toes of her slippers.
“Right. Can I…” He frowned, shaking his head.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“What is it?” Now she was back to smiling up at him.
“I was going to ask if I could come with you.”
She bit her lip, but she didn’t look away. Good sign.
“But…it’s probably a bad idea.”
“You should come,” she insisted. “There’s no way this stops here, right?”
Knuckles had to grin. He liked her all assertive like that. “No way. I’m into you, momma. There’s more to it than that.”
“Good. The girls have to get used to the idea.”
“Okay.” He tagged his shirt from the tile floor and pulled it on. “I’ll grab some shorts.”
She was leaving the bathroom, then she turned, went up on her toes and pressed a quick kiss to his lips. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For that. It was all…it was exactly what I’d hoped it would be.”
He leaned his forehead down on hers. “Good, Momma. You gotta set those targets higher, though. Make me work for it.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Waking up had never been a particularly sensory experience before, but as Danielle blinked back the dregs of sleep she was aware of a delicious ache in her lower body, and what was even better, a hard, warm form pressed against her back, one arm slung over her hip to keep her close. His breathing was a bit coarse in her ear, not quite snoring but not exactly easy breathing either.
She didn’t care. Knuckles was in bed with her, spooning.
She checked her clock, noted her alarm wouldn’t go off for work for another half hour, then closed her eyes again. Morning had come far too fucking early, and she was not going to let Grace sleep in either. Bringing all that drama right to their front lawn. Jesus, that girl needed to be on house arrest or something.
But it wasn’t all bad. She had the chance to really talk to Knuckles, without shouting. And she got to see him in action.
Not the fucking, that’s not what she meant.
Watching him beat that kid into a pulp had been horrifying, no doubt about it. She’d seen violence in her time, suffered at the hands of her ex-husband. But she would have happily bitch slapped that Brian shit around if he hadn’t been so much bigger than her.
But Knuckles could clue him in, and she didn’t even have to ask.
Violence was very wrong, and all that. But a man you already had the hots for, breaking in the face of a guy you wish you could hurt half as much…she was ashamed to admit how much that had turned her on.
And then his bathroom. Good lord. She had never been that out of control, out of her mind. It was pure, raw, passion. Not dressed up, no reason to be embarrassed. How could she be? That was the most satisfied she’d ever been; physically, emotionally. What might have been awkward afterwards, for her, he made okay.
The was a muffled moan and the arm on her hip tightened, drawing him even tighter against her back. She smiled, eyes still closed, as a kiss was pressed to the side of her neck. “Morning Momma,” a gruff voice said, quietly and close to her ear.
“Morning,” she whispered back, noting the erection pressing into her ass cheek. She shouldn’t have been that hungry for more, and she suspected she might be a bit sore, but suddenly the rest of her didn’t really care.
“Look at what you did to me,” he grumped, rubbing against her.
“Me?”
“Didn’t tire me out last night.”
She had to chuckle. “I was plenty worn out.” And she was. She’d passed right out once they’d snuck back to her room, and climbed into bed.
He made a thoughtful sound, then pressed into her shoulder, effectively pushing her onto her stomach. “I was going to take my time on you this morning, but I’m willing to bet we don’t have too much time.”
“Not really,” was her reply, ending in a gasp as his hands ran over her ass, then down the backs of her thighs to push them apart. He hovered over her, teeth nipping along the back of her neck.
“I’ll work quick, but you gotta keep it down.”
“Me?”
“Can’t have you waking the kids with those lusty noises.”
She was chuckling, then he ran the back of a finger along her opening. She sighed, eyes closing, back arching to give him access.
“Yeah, that’s what I want,” he growled, reaching over her for the bedside table where she’d watched him toss a condom the night before. “You just stay right like that.”
“Okay,” she gasped as he ran his teeth over her shoulder on the way back from retrieving the condom. Not being able to see him had her in a state of erotic anticipation.
The tearing of foil, then the rustle of bedclothes. Chills ran up her back as he uncovered her completely, and she couldn’t even find the energy to be embarrassed. She was a quivering bundle of nerves.
“This ass is fucking perfect, Momma.” He cupped one cheek, smoothing his hand over the curve, down to her hip. It arched her back again, and she parted her legs more, digging her knees into the mattress. His chuckle was so wonderfully down and dirty. “I think you’re anxious.”
“Please,” she muttered, trying to push back.
“Just a second,” he chided, and she felt his knees lock in place inside of hers. Pulling her legs farther apart. “Ahh, fuck. I want you so bad, Momma.”
“You got me,” she assured him, working her hips side to side.
His weight came down onto her, and she felt him nudge against her but he didn’t penetrate. Apparently, he wasn’t done torturing her yet. “Now, you need to make noise, you scream into that pillow.”
“I don’t scream,” she snapped, then gasped as he nudged in barely an inch.
“Not yet you don’t,” he said ominously, and her entire body shook, and then he drove home on one aggressive, smooth motion.
She buried her face in the pillow immediately, giving a sharp cry. Okay, so the position was good for keeping noise to a minimum. As he retreated and worked into her again, she found the position also made it easy for him to mutter the m
ost fantastically dirty things right into her ear. Things no one had ever said to her, things she’d only read about in books. And here it was, turning her on, in real life.
His weight was propped up on one arm, the other sliding under her stomach, then lower. At the first touch on her clit Danielle had to shove her face in the pillow again.
“There it is. You fucking love that, don’t you? Christ I love your clit, Momma. I just touch it and you tighten that pussy up on my cock so hard it crosses my eyes.”
“Oh God.”
“I’m remembering how good you taste. I’m gonna be tasting that all day, Momma. Can I come back tonight for more?”
“Greg,” she gasped, head to the side just enough to actually breathe.
“Yeah, I can,” he growled, increasing the force he was pounding into her with. “You like my mouth as much as my cock, Momma?”
“I do.”
“I know you do. You’re so fucking wet. And Christ, it tastes so good.”
“Oh God.”
He removed his hand from between her legs and her body wept at the loss, but then he planted both hands next to her hips and proceeded to fuck the holy hell out of her.
She’d made love before. This was fucking. The difference was so incredibly obvious.
Her orgasm was sharp and sudden, wrenching a cry from her so intense it cracked her jaw, despite being muffled by the pillow. He didn’t stop, he kept going, keeping her high so intense she wasn’t sure if that orgasm kept going or if an entirely new one was set off.
When he came, he fell onto her back, mouth closing on a section of her shoulder, sucking hard on her skin as he groaned; a sound that seemed to come from deep in his gut.
Then they lay there in a sweaty, panting heap as her clock radio started up, a monotone voice reading out the news headlines. She didn’t catch an entire word because Knuckles was kissing, nuzzling, and nursing the huge hickey he’d undoubtedly just left on her.
“Best morning ever,” he muttered, sliding out of her slowly.
“I agree.”
Teeth grazed her ass cheek, then she heard footsteps heading to the en suite washroom. She turned her head the other way, body not willing to get up yet. The long, lanky figure in her washroom was not the epitome of big, muscled, masculinity, but she’d just experienced yet again how powerful that thin body was. He was completely comfortable to be naked, turning to the sink and getting the taps going, washing his hands. He caught her looking and he grinned. “Get up there, you lazy ass. I just did all the work.”
She smiled, sitting up on the edge of the bed, realizing she, too, was totally comfortable to be naked in front of him. She moved to stand, but her knees actually felt weak. As she passed behind him to turn on her shower, she reminded herself that the sound would be Annie’s cue to get up as well. She’d get her stuff ready for the day then she’d get in the shower in the hall bath once Danielle was done.
So, did he want to shower here as well? Before she could ask he was herding her over the edge of the tub, stepping into the spray with her. “Great idea, Momma.”
“What?” she sputtered, surprised to be in the shower with him for one thing and then also catching her breath when he palmed her breasts and leaned his head down to grab a quick kiss.
“Told you I wanted to take more time on you today.”
“Oh?” His thumbs teased over her nipples as he backed her against the tiled wall.
“Wanna go down on you again. You mind?”
“Oh, I suppose not.” She’d be an idiot to refuse that.
“Then you return the favor?”
She looked up into those gorgeous eyes, now warm and golden. To her surprise, she couldn’t wait to do exactly what he asked.
“Can I go first?” she asked, pushing on his chest and turning his back against the wall.
His chuckle seemed delightedly surprised, and he threw her own thoughts back at her. “I’d be an idiot to say no, Momma.”
-oOo-
She wasn’t late to work, by some miracle, but just by the skin of her teeth. The toxicology report from Bakersfield was front and center on her desk, so she dealt with that first off. As Troy had said, the medications the Taft girl was taking were known to cause irregular heart rhythms, and the addition of the Oxy definitely tipped the scales on her poor heart.
Once the official paperwork was done and filed with the sheriff’s department she tackled her email inbox. Not too much there. No bother; she was in far too good a mood to let anything bother her.
When her partially-open door was pushed all the way open, she looked up with that still-blissful smile on her face, but when she saw it was Deputy Kerry Troy it slipped. He had been about to speak, but something made him pause, hand on the door, looking at her like he’d never seen her before.
Danielle frowned. “Is everything okay?”
He shook his head, and when he replied it was in official cop tone. That hurt; she’d always thought of him as a friend. Remembering the previous evening, that was probably why she was getting cop tone now. “We got a call. Possible double homicide. Can’t get hold of McTavish. Can you do the scene on your own?”
She nodded, turning to the shelving that made up the back wall of her tiny office. The camera kit was always packed and ready to go, but she hadn’t used it yet herself. It wasn’t a crime scene investigation kit, that was left to the deputies. But when possible the department liked a medical examiner, or coroner, to see the body as it was found. Sometimes clues at the scene provided an early cause of death probability, but to Danielle, that could be dangerous, too. She hadn’t done a scene yet on her own, but she’d have to make sure to lose her initial impression once the body, or bodies, were back in the autopsy suite at the hospital.
She shrugged on her windbreaker with the bright, reflective “coroner” printed on the back, and when she looked up she found Troy still looking at her.
“Is everything okay?” Troy asked softly, and Danielle tilted her head.
“Yeah. I’m fine.”
His eyes dropped down to her shoulder, then he swallowed and nodded. “And listen, I’m sorry about last night. I was out of line. I’ll try to remain more professional.”
Danielle froze just as she slung the camera bag onto her shoulder. “Troy, there’s nothing to apologize for.”
He shook his head, then before he turned to leave he mumbled, “Just be careful, Dani. Be very careful.”
He pulled the door shut slightly, and the small locker mirror on the back of the door swung into position to reflect her own image back at her. She looked stunned, sure, but she also took in the huge mark on the juncture of her neck and shoulder, the spot that Troy had been staring at.
Well, damn it. Staring at herself, she had to wonder if that was the reason Knuckles had put that there. To make his mark on her, warn off Troy.
Her shirt had been covering it until the camera bag strap pulled the windbreaker and shirt to the side. Hurriedly, she yanked the windbreaker closer to her neck and scrambled out of the office to follow Troy out the front doors of the department.
The silence was frustrating, but she had no idea how she could break it. The embarrassment of walking around with a giant hickey had her back in eleventh grade again, but honestly, she had nothing to be embarrassed about. Or sorry for. She was a grown woman, for Pete’s sake.
Unless this would cause concern for her job, just like it had for Sharon Downey.
On that thought, she took a deep breath and just watched the streets of Markham roll by until they passed from businesses to houses to the southern trailer park called, humorously, Mason de Markham. Yeah, a French-titled trailer park made as much of a difference to the general feel of the place as one might expect.
The units were all owned, no rentals. Every place sported a unique deck, awnings, and a surprising amount of landscaping for a trailer park. Still, the abodes were close together and she felt almost claustrophobic just imaging living there.
Their destination was
obvious, what with a Markham PD cruiser parked out front, lights on. As they parked and climbed out of Troy’s vehicle, Officer Martin approached, raising a hand in greeting. “Morning,” he said unenthusiastically when they were closer.
“What’s inside?” Troy asked, striding past him and up the walkway.
“Two males, one approximately sixty years old, the other in his early twenties. I’d say they were snuck up on at night. Both are still in their beds.”
Inside the trailer, the air was tinged with cigarette smoke and something else, something she recognized right away. If she could smell blood out here, the bedrooms were going to be messy.
“I’ve already had a look over the bedrooms,” Martin was continuing as they passed single file through the narrow hallway. “Chase is in there photographing everything, but there’s no sign of the weapon. He’s doing the second bedroom now, where the younger guy is. Older guy’s room is right here, it’s been photographed. For what it’s worth.”
Danielle paused by the door Martin indicated, and Troy nodded. “Go on ahead.”
“What about the Sheriff?”
Troy’s jaw clamped down. “Can’t get him on the phone. No one knows where the fuck he is.”
“Wonderful,” she muttered, stepping through the open door and into a scene from a slasher film.
Jesus, there was a lot of blood. She’d guessed right. A man, like Martin said, approximately sixty years of age, was in the double bed. His blankets were still up around his chest, but his arms were over them, flung to the side so that he almost seemed to be rolling over to look at her. And his eyes were open but glazed over.
Absence of animation.
Already she was noting the cuts on the back of the top forearm, the only one she could see clearly. She opened the flap on her camera bag and pulled out the Nikon, slipping the lens cover into her pocket.
“You checked the floor, obviously,” she mumbled, turning the camera on.
Shelter (Red Rebels MC Book 5) Page 23