Scorched by a Deputy (The Deputy Series Book 3)

by Dawn Marie

  Suddenly I have this sense of doom and it fills the truck cab. Looking out the window I gaze at houses, the forest, thinking things and wondering what I can say to find out what’s wrong with him. I know something is wrong. What is it? I ask myself that a dozen times, as I look at him while he’s driving. His fingers tapping on the steering wheel.

  It’s not like him.

  Something is wrong for sure.

  We are about ten minutes away from where he’s going to shoot his gun in Pace. I decide there never really is a right time to ask an important question. I want to know what’s wrong. I decide to find out. I take off my flip flops and slip my feet up under my ass. He glances over at me and takes his right hand placing it on my left knee. His fingers rub slowly over my knee and leg. Dyane’s touch always heats me up.

  “What’s bothering you?” My voice anxious as I ardently ask.

  “Nothing,” he replies. His tone of voice says don’t keep asking but I don’t listen.

  “Something is bothering you. Maybe I can help,” I exclaim. I gaze over at him hoping he will answer me truthfully.

  “Leave it alone, Dawn!” Dyane harshly yells back.

  My heart takes a knife wound in that second. Why can’t he talk to me? I can see that he never wants to give up any information. I always must fight for every piece of information I get from him. It shouldn’t be that way. As we pull into parking lot of the shooting range, luckily, it’s not full of people today. I’m starting to think I am over my head in deep, deep water.

  Dyane turns off the truck and that blasted radio stops. I can finally hear now. He looks at me as he takes his keys out. As he puts them inside his jean pocket I gaze back at him. He can see now that his yelling has affected me. As he unclips his seatbelt I do the same, pulling my legs down to find my shoes.

  I hear his truck door open as he gets out. I slip my flip flops on and step down out of his truck. I take my purse and shut the door. Dyane is getting a backpack out of the back of the truck. He beeps the truck and I walk to the tailgate as he meets me. He gasps my right hand in his left hand and pulls me along beside him. He’s walking fast, his back straight, his eyes ahead, but he’s watching every movement around us. I take a few seconds to inspect him. He’s edgy and I wonder why.

  The day turned out not to be such a bad day after all I thought. We left the shooting range a few hours after arriving. It was sort of fun watching Dyane in his element. He’s very good at using his weapon. He was quick and hit his target every time. He took me out for a nice lunch at our favorite place to eat in small hometown. Then we headed back to his house.

  I had started to feel comfortable in his surroundings but for some reason I’m uneasy this afternoon. He’s quiet. Sitting in his recliner while I sit alone on the couch. He found a movie to watch on the television so I watch it. Usually he sits with me, or I sit with him on his lap in his recliner. He’s thinking about something. I have a guess that maybe it’s his work. I’m not totally sure about that though.

  Just as I’m getting involved in the movie, relaxing by myself on his couch, Dyane gets up quickly and walks into the kitchen. I watch with uneasiness as he comes back with a glass of Crown and Coke. He plops down into his seat, sips his drink, and gazes at me with a hard gaze. It’s his ‘work gaze’ I like to call it. An awful stare that makes you edgy and nervous for no reason.

  I’m feeling a little tired and I don’t know why. Maybe from being on edge most of the day. I’m feeling the need to go home. Usually, I spend the night at his house. But for some reason, I think he needs a night alone. I need a night alone. To pull myself together, and let him get his thoughts in order. His drink is almost empty. It makes me nervous.

  “Do you think you can take me home?” I ask him softly. My eyes are tired and worried.

  The hard look he gives me sends shivers down my spine. “Why do you want to go home?” His voice is rigid and agitated.

  “I just feel like going home,”

  “Bullshit.” Dyane snaps. His navy-blue eyes harsh as his loud voice.

  I tense with emotions that put me on edge. I have a feeling this is much deeper than I thought. Or, maybe I was right all along and something is bothering him. But he’s putting off bad vibes. His hands are grasping his glass tightly and he’s looking at me like me wants to devour me. Punish me? I’m not sure where that thought came from.

  “I just would like to go home,” my voice nervous with emotions.

  “Tough.” Dyane replies.

  “I’ll call someone to come get me then,” I tell him. “It’s okay if you can’t take.”

  “No,” his hard tone replies. “You’re staying here like you always do.”

  “No!” I tell him. “I’m going home.” I sit up and glare over at him.

  He looks at me harshly. It pains me. He’s looking at me like I’m a stranger. I don’t understand. What’s happened to him? Did I do something wrong? Did something happen to us that I missed? Suddenly, I’m hurting inside and the wounds are getting bigger. The pain worse. I wonder if I can find a bandage large enough to cover the painful wounds he’s giving me.

  “Fine,” he snarls. “Run away.”

  “What does that mean?” I ask anxiously, my voice shrill in its tone.

  He doesn’t answer me. He gets up and moves into the kitchen. I hear him opening a bottle. I decide to get up and walk into the kitchen. As I step into the opening, Dyane’s pouring Coke into his glass. I can smell the Crown from the doorway. The smell filling the small kitchen. He’s standing sideways up against the counter. He glances at me, takes a huge drink, and turns to watch me.

  “Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” I ask him. I’m needing him to talk to me. To tell me the truth.

  “Why?” He taunts me. There are no other words for it. He’s playing cat and mouse with me. I don’t understand why. He’s treating me like he treats a criminal. He deals with them five days a week. But I’m not a criminal…I’m his friend and his lover.

  “Because I want to know,” I reply.

  He strides to me quickly. Dyane stops inches from my face, stares into my eyes, making me glance away. Before I can glance back to his face, he’s snatching me to him. His firm body is warm, his breath smells of the Crown he’s been drinking, his eyes blazing with anger. I’m not sure why…

  “You don’t want to know,” he snaps. “You can’t handle the truth.”

  My heart thumps with those five words. Both sentences make me question everything. I question my heart. My own feelings. My hunger for this man. I wonder why and I can’t stop the thoughts. His hands grip me tightly on my waist as he pulls me tight against his hard body. I can feel his warm cock behind his zipper, hard and ready.

  “I can,” I exclaim. “You aren’t man enough to tell me the truth!” I snarl.

  Maybe I shouldn’t have said that…

  His eyes blaze with anger.

  His cock harder…

  The small kitchen could catch fire from the heat between the two of us.

  Dyane bends and picks me up so fast I have no warning. I’m quickly slung over his left shoulder as he heads down the hallway to his bedroom. I pound on his back with my hands, my voice yelling for him to let me go. He doesn’t stop. His long legs quickly striding to his bedroom with me over his shoulder. The bedroom is dark, he doesn’t turn on a light as he hurls me onto the center of his queen-sized bed.

  I bounce onto the comforter hard and before I can even flicker an eyelid he’s on top of me. His hot body holding mine down flat against the bed. I wish I could see his eyes, but it’s so dark in his bedroom. I wiggle underneath him trying to get free. I pound on his chest, and I hear him taking his belt off. Before I can come up with a plan of action, Dyane has both my wrists tightly clasped with his belt.

  “Untie me right now!” I scream into the darkened bedroom.

  He doesn’t reply. I only hear the sounds of his zipper being pulled down. I can barely gasp a breath of air, as his chest holds me hostage. He�
��s heavy. His firm hands without preamble unzip my shorts and pull them down my legs. I feel his fingers grasp my lace panties and snatch them downward. I feel them both slide down my legs and he slings them off into darkened room.

  “Dyane!” I yell. “Dyane, stop!”

  He doesn’t stop. He leaves my top on and I’m naked from the waist down. His tee shirt is still on, his jeans as well, he only unzipped his zipper. I wiggle and twist under him as he tries to get into the vee of my spread legs. His muscled body soon has me spread in the dark where he wants me.

  Open to him so he can dominate me.

  Claim me.

  Punish me.

  Only…

  I want him to love me.

  “Dyane…” I moan into the dark. My hands grip the belt wrapped around my small wrists. I want to claw at him. To mark him. Make him feel the pain of loving a man like him.

  I feel the heat of his cock as it lays at the entrance to my pussy. My pussy craves his huge eight-inch cock. My brain doesn’t. My heart wants his heart. I feel his right hand on my bare pussy as he takes the head of his cock and rubs it around the opening of my pussy. I feel his hand leave and then his cock is pushing inside the tight walls. I moan from the stretching, the fullness, that only Dyane’s cock can make me feel. I squeeze his cock hard, and I hear him moan. My heart beats faster.

  He starts a pounding rhythm that is vigorous and hasty. His thrusting pushes my small frame up in the bed as he continues his pounding into my body. I’m not as aroused as I usually am and the hammering force from his cock stings. I am not ready to come but that doesn’t matter. He’s groaning loudly in my ear as I feel hot spurting and wetness inside my pussy as he finds his release.

  I blink as cold tears drip down my eyes. He pulls out of me faster than I can blink. He rolls over onto his back, with one hand he releases his belt from my wrists. I wiggle my hands out as soon as I can. Sliding to the side of the bed, I stand up, look for my shorts and pull them on quickly. I walk into the bathroom where I clean up. I cry through the whole process.

  When I open the door, the lights are still out, the room pitch black. I walk softly out the bedroom door into the living room. The light from the room hurts my eyes. I know I’m a mess. I get my purse, find my cell phone and with tears running down my face type a quick message for a friend to come pick me up. I get a reply within seconds.

  I open Dyane’s front door and I don’t look back.

  Chapter 14

  I don’t know where to begin with rest of the story. The rawness is still present. I don’t know if it will ever leave. Pain can do that to a person. Never leave. Never heal. I wonder if I can forgive. Can I? I’m not so sure anymore. I just get this agony deep inside my heart and I cry when I think of him.

  When I think of Dyane.

  Myself.

  Us.

  Heartache.

  Scorching pain like nothing you’ve ever felt before.

  Have you felt it?

  Can you survive it?

  That’s what I want to know.

  Can you?

  Can I?

  Why him?

  Why Dyane?

  I’m not sure anymore. I just know I love him. I love him. But does he love me? Does he really love me?

  That’s the real question. Questions he doesn’t like to answer. Doesn’t want to answer if you ask me. Can’t answer and I don’t know why. I don’t understand.

  I’m not sure the rest of the story can be told. It’s harsh. It’s painful.

  But I’ve come this far. Haven’t I?

  I can continue…

  Dyane texted me exactly three days after that heart-breaking night. I was a mess the next few days. I was feeling tired, nauseous and had horrible headaches. I read his text but I did not reply. I was too sick. I was in too much pain. I didn’t know what to do about the whole situation between the two of us. Maybe I had fallen too fast for a man once again that wasn’t for me. Maybe I did? Maybe I haven’t…

  As I laid in my bed, snuggled under the covers, my cat lying beside me all sorts of thoughts drifted through my mind. It was raining hard outside and the rain was beating against my tin roof. It reminded me that life isn’t fair. And, I missed Dyane. I wasn’t sure what was happening with him. With us? What did he want? Did he love me?

  I slipped off into a light sleep, I thought I was hearing pounding but the rain was still so loud. My cat jumped off the bed in flash and was gone in a flash of floating brown fur. I heard the pounding again. It was coming from my front door! Who in the world would be outside in the rain? I looked down at my cotton tank top and shorts that I was sleeping in and decided it would be okay to open the door in.

  I looked out the kitchen window and saw a cruiser in the driveway. Had something happened to someone? My heart beat so fast I felt like I was going to pass out. I unlocked my front door and standing in the pouring rain was Dyane in his deputy uniform. He was soaked, and I just stood there looking at him through the glass door. He pushed the door open, and I stepped back quickly. Water was pooling at his boots and onto my bare feet.

  The dampness from the rain made my nipples restrict. I shivered from the coolness of the damp air. He shut the door behind him and I just stood there. He was too much of everything standing in my doorway. His black hair was dripping wet, his face wet, his uniform soaked, and his boots muddy. But he still looked so damn handsome standing their glaring at me.

  I shook inside. He was glaring at me like he wanted to snap me in pieces. I just stood there. Still as a mouse. I was caught in a mouse trap of my own making. He was the bad cat. Ready to pounce on me.

  “Why didn’t you answer my text, Dawn?” he asked me harshly. “Are you alright?”

  I didn’t answer. I walked into the kitchen to get a drink of water. I felt like I was going to throw up. On him. That would not be good at all. He’d be wet with vomit then. I laughed inside my head at the evil thought. As I got some water, he watched my every move.

  “Well…” he demanded. “Answer the damn questions!”

  “I’ve been sick,” I replied finally. Looking straight into his dark gaze I saw so much disdain. I wondered where it came from. Why?

  “And…” Dyane continued. He edged his large body closer to mine, trapping me against my kitchen counter. I should have known not to get myself boxed in by him. It had happened before. Now he controlled the situation between the two of us.

  Or, did he?

  A small drop of water leaked down from his wet hair, falling onto his right cheek, and sliding down to his chin. I watched the drop of water as it splashed down onto his black wet boots. Swallowing I felt lost and suddenly afraid. My heart picked up its speed, beating faster inside my chest. I closed my eyes tightly and blinked them open quickly. His scorching gaze burning deep into my senses.

  Dyane’s manly scent, even wet, clung to his uniform and body. The warmth from his chest and thighs were creeping into my bare legs. My nipples tighten under my cotton tank top, puckering up the front of my top. His eyes dropped the few inches from my face to my chest. He clinched his fist hanging at his side, his cheek ticked, and his hot breath hit my cool face.

  The desire to clutch at him, wrap my arms around his waist and cling to his large frame hit with such hard force I groaned inside. This man was a walking heart-attack. If I was honest with myself, I’d just take what he was giving and run with it. But I wanted so much more. Was that too much to ask for? To want to love this man? I didn’t aspire to be another notch on his bed frame.

  He had shaved this morning I noticed. His face bare of whiskers. If I touched his cheeks, they would be smooth against my fingertips. I didn’t know which I liked best, smooth or the smallest showing of black whiskers that felt rough to my fingertips. I moaned softly, the sound escaping my lips before I could stop it. Dyane heard and he clinched his fist tighter. Just the thought of his whiskers leaving a scraping trail down my breast, onto the softness of my stomach, down into the drop of my thighs that lead to ecstasy m
ade me desire him.

  My blue-eyes connected with his navy-blue eyes and I needed his touch. But the thought was in my mind. It wouldn’t solve anything. Would it? It was a time for seriousness. And with that thought, my body protested, knowing it was something he wasn’t going to be. Serious with me. Dyane might be all tough and serious professionally but when it came to his personal life he wasn’t.

  With him still in his uniform, his gun strapped in his utility belt, taser, mace, and handcuffs it bothered me. I looked down at the Glock 22, an extra magazine with 15 rounds hooked to his belt, and wondered for the hundredth time why this man did this for a career. Why did he? Didn’t he know that one day he may not come home? My heart began to beat with a faster tempo. I just didn’t understand.

  I broke the stillness between the two of us, standing in my small kitchen with my back tight against the countertop. Reaching up with my right hand I slowly traced my index finger down his jaw. It was as smooth as I had thought. My fingertip edged slowly, slowly over to his thick upper lip. He was as still as a mouse held inside a mouse trap. The only movement coming from his chest. I watched as his uniform went up and down, up and down underneath the material of his deputy uniform.

  I couldn’t stop myself as I leaned my body into his muscled chest. Removing my fingertip, I replaced it with my tender lips. Kissing him gently on the lips I used the tip of my pink tongue and traced his lips with the tip. Then I sucked hard on his own fuller tongue. Swirling, and teasing his tongue with mine. Moving my lips over his with an intensity I didn’t know I had. Groaning with the sudden heat seeping into my deepest core, I wanted Dyane. I wanted him now!

  Dyane moaned along with me and our groans became one. Just like our bodies had become one, as one, and would again.

  Soon.

  An awful ache began inside my body and only this man could put out the ache. Soothe the pain, make it hide, make it better, make it disappear. Or, at least for a little while. He reached behind me with his muscled arms and pulled me tight against his wet, hard frame. His utility belt with all the things it held cut into my stomach. But it was his hard cock, all eight-inches, that rubbed me in the right spot. Held my attention, wanted my attention.