Scorched by a Deputy (The Deputy Series Book 3)

by Dawn Marie

  He released my lips with a loud, groan. My lips suddenly lonely, wet, sore but wanting his possession again and again. Dyane wasted not a second as he picked me up in his arms and placed me in the middle of my kitchen table. As he sat me on the edge of the table, he kicked the bench underneath the table, as he stepped into the opening of my spread thighs.

  My eyes clung to his heated gaze as he quickly unbuckled his belt and laid it on the table behind me. Then he unsnapped and unzipped his pants so fast I wasn’t sure I saw him. “Take your shirt off.” He ordered in that husky voice of his, as he pulled my shorts off. I slowly slipped my tank off, my nipples hard little pebbles for his eyes to take in. He tossed my shorts onto the kitchen table, as I looked down between my spread legs and saw his hard cock sticking out of his pants.

  Dyane knew I wanted to caress his hard cock. Suck his cock down my throat. He didn’t give me a chance. He buried his wet, dark head between my legs, his wet tongue finding my clit and sucking hard on the little pleasure nub. Nibbling, sucking, and biting softly onto my clit my pussy leaked its desire for him. Moaning loudly, my head slung back, my arms holding my upper body up as he ate my pussy, I couldn’t think. I only knew I wanted Dyane to fuck me. Fuck me now!

  As if he recognized I was ready for him, wanting him, right now and hard, Dyane lifted his head, my pussy juices wet on his chin, his eyes boring into mine, as he rubbed his hard cock with his right hand. He slowly rubbed the head of his dick up and down, up and around, down and up onto my wet pussy. The large head of his dick found its way into the opening of my moistened pussy just barely slipping inside an inch.

  My fingernails clawed at my kitchen table, my nails making a scratching sound on the wood. Dyane stopped for a moment, the head of his cock barely inside the opening of my damp pussy, looking straight at me. His eyes were dark, painful causing my heart to clinch in hunger. What was the pull about this man? Why did my body hunger and ache for his possession?

  “You want this?” his voice gasped. His navy-blue eyes almost black in tint from the hunger radiating off his body.

  “Yesss….” I moaned. My gaze telling him to claim me.

  Fuck me.

  Own me.

  But didn’t he already own my heart?

  Dyane must have needed me as much as I needed him in that moment. His hard but slickened cock thrusted inside my pussy like a battering ram. I groaned from the thickness, the width of his eight-inch cock stretching my pussy to an almost impossible fullness. It was just what my body needed. His cock claiming my pussy. Giving my tight, slick pussy a pounding that would carry us both off to paradise.

  Those large hands of his gripped my upper thighs tightly, almost too tightly, as he thrust and lunged inside my pussy. The loud grunts from his mouth making my core clinch tight onto his cock. As I came on his big cock, my wetness clinging to his flesh, helping him to slide deeper inside my pussy, I knew I couldn’t give this man up. I had to stay tough and fight for us.

  A tear drop slid down my eye, onto my cheek, as I closed my eyes tightly. My body sliding back and forth, back and forth on the kitchen table, as Dyane pounded harder and firmer into the softness of my body. He groaned so loudly the small hairs on my arms stood up, his fingers digging deeply into the tender flesh at my thighs. Dyane shot out heavy ropes of cum with his groans. My pussy sucking up every drop of semen, was a greedy, greedy bitch today. She sucked in every drop of semen he gushed out, his groans filling the small space of my kitchen.

  I came again from the force of his release, the wetness of my secretions mixing with his cum. Opening my eyes, I drew in the sight before me. I wanted to remember it always. Dyane raw and open. His face blissful if such a thing were possible. His head was hung back with his breathing slowing down, the shirt of his uniform still wet from the rain and now dampened with his sweat. He was so sexy. Pure male in this moment.

  As he pulled his slippery semi-erect cock from my dripping pussy, he glanced up at me laying back on the kitchen table with my legs spread wide and his large frame standing in the middle. Slipping his cock inside his pants, he zipped up, reached over to grab his belt and put it on. I suddenly had a terrible feeling in the pit of my stomach.

  I sat up, closed my legs to keep his semen from leaking everywhere, and reached to grasp his left elbow to pull him to me. He jerked his arm away just as I grabbed hold. The look he gave me sent chills down my spine. There are no other words to describe that feeling. His face was now void of any emotion. He was back to that asshole persona that he carried off so well when I had first met him.

  That man I couldn’t stand.

  That man I didn’t like.

  That man I didn’t understand at all.

  Not at all.

  The fact he was dressed in his deputy uniform, fresh from fucking my pussy raw on the kitchen table, my kitchen table, didn’t escape my thoughts. The thought that this was an apology of sorts between the two of us went to the wayside. This was something much more. Something that I knew was going to hurt. Hurt me. Hurt us. And, yes in the long run, hurt him also.

  I braced myself as much as I could but it wasn’t enough to protect my shattered heart. This cold, black gaze took over his face. His large six-feet frame, tensed up, a small tick in the side of his cheek, his navy-blue eyes were now blackened. I watched with a sick calmness as his mouth opened, and he did shatter my fragile heart.

  It’s sickening how much a person can love another person. Isn’t it? How vulnerable you are? Those moments you thought would last forever they don’t. Those times you bared your soul they don’t mean shit now. They are like the dust in the wind. Gone. Flying away with the wind. What does the wind do? It changes.

  And you want to know something. I want a man that doesn’t change like the wind. I want a man that is steady. Firm. Loving. Passionate. Compassionate.

  I thought Dyane was that man. I wanted him to be my love. My man. I’m not sure anymore. I don’t trust anyone. I’m scorched in the worst way. Burned from loving a man that doesn’t deserve my love. Bare from showing him my soul. Scorched bare by the one man I thought really did love me.

  Isn’t that poetic?

  Fucked up?

  Some of the things that have happened between the two of us, myself and Dyane. I will never forget. I will never forgive. I’m sure you can understand that much. Maybe you can’t. The pain is just too much for me to handle. Somedays I’m fine. Somedays I cry. Somedays I smile. Somedays I shout and scream.

  But no matter how much I cry, I only know I do love him. Love is supposed to be kind. Let me tell you from experience, it’s not. It’s raw. It’s ecstasy with a splash of gasoline. The thing about love and loving a hardcore, raw man like Dyane is you must be tough. And that’s the thing about love.

  Can you be tough enough to survive the fire?

  I thought I was. I’m not so sure anymore. I’m wondering if the rest of my story is even worth telling. But as my heart rips into pieces, my soul laid bare… why not finish what I have started?

  Chapter 15

  After Dyane fucked me cold-hearted on the kitchen table, I didn’t realize that would be the last time he fucked me for quite a long time. He got dressed and looked at me so terribly cold. Then he said the words that stopped my heart from beating inside my chest. Words I keep remembering in my dreams…nightmares.

  “It’s over Dawn,” he grunted harshly. “Time to move on.” Then he walked out into the pouring rain.

  I don’t know how long I sat there on the kitchen table, half undressed, his semen running down my leg, as I listened to his patrol car being cranked, and the rain slashing against the kitchen windows. Some part of me, deep inside, thought he’d come rushing back inside, say he was sorry, and kiss me like he meant it. Some part of me…it took a while before I got cold, shaking, crying and I limped into my bedroom.

  I collapsed onto my bed and cried myself into a very troubled sleep. My heart was ripped out, torn into pieces, so many pieces I wasn’t sure they could ever be put b
ack together again. I was so drained physically and mentally. I wasn’t sure I was strong enough to recover from this heartache. But as I drifted into a hazy sleep, I knew I had a long road ahead of me.

  Time heals all wounds…or does it?

  If you’re wondering it was not easy waking up the next morning knowing that it was suddenly over between the two of us. I cried and I cried some more. My body and soul felt empty. Dead. At my age, yes, I’ve had many break-ups. But this was the one break-up I knew I would never recover from. This man, this one man, was the one that finally had my heart. And, guess what? He didn’t want it. He doesn’t deserve it. Does he?

  I’m a wreak and probably will be for a long time.

  Please, don’t hold it against me.

  What does a person do after a horrible heart-wrenching break-up? They blame themselves. They get angry. They ask tons of questions. They sit and cry. Sleep. Meander around in a fog lost in thoughts about why. What could I have done different? Why did he break my heart? Didn’t he know what he did? Does he care?

  It is the middle of the afternoon, the day after Dyane fucked me and just walked away from being with me. I’m able to get out of bed and find myself some food. Just barely. Barely able to function. I’m wondering as I eat and stare at the television if I will be able to get back to a normal life. Somehow, I am doubtful. I’m so tired. I don’t feel like myself.

  That alone not feeling like myself, feeling like an alien inside my own body scares the hell of out me. This foggy emptiness that surrounds me needs to leave. I am hoping I can be strong enough to shake it off and continue with my life. But doubts, and what-ifs fill my mind. It’s hard to forget what he has done to me. The emotions he has made me feel for him. The emotions of us.

  To be honest, I’m here thinking he should have texted or called me by now. But of course, he hasn’t. And, then it hits, he was so serious and stern. He’s not going to. Is he?

  Is he?

  And, the tears start falling again. I can’t stop them. I want to, Dear God, do I want them to stop. But I just cry harder. Faster… My heart is shredded into so many pieces I am sure they can ever heal. How much more pain can I take?

  How much?

  Do you ask yourself those questions?

  Have you felt empty?

  Pulling myself together I take a hot shower and get ready for bed. I am hoping tomorrow will be better. It needs to be. But for now, I plan on just taking things one day at a time. My mother’s advice. I close my eyes and I can feel his warmth against my back. I can feel his strong arms holding me tightly to his chest. And, I drift into a painful sleep with memories of him…us…

  Chapter 16

  It has been some rough sixty days for me. The end of July and it seems like forever. Two months of agony since Dyane Nelson broke up with me and scattered my heart into a million fragments. He hasn’t contacted me at all and that hurts so badly. I have been feeling tired and just not myself. Everyone tells me I will get over him, to move on with my life but it’s just not that easy. At least not for me.

  Why did he just leave like that? What happened to him? I can’t understand any of his actions. How could he hurt me the way he has? I keep asking questions and not getting answers. It’s driving me crazy. I am furious with him. I’m mad at myself for falling for a man, once again, that can’t love me. Just when I thought he was the one! But guess what? He doesn’t want to be the one…

  It’s Friday night, and I can’t stop asking questions that aren’t getting any answers. So, I decide to get in my car and drive over to Dyane’s house. Crazy? Stupid? I know, I know… what are you thinking? I’m in love with a man that does not love me back. Simple as that very sentence. However, it’s not that cut and dry. We all know it. Probably experienced the very same thing in life.

  Maybe…

  As I drive into town I’m wondering if what I am going to do is stupid. Probably so, but I need to see his face, hear his voice to get the satisfaction of knowing whether what he is telling me is the truth. Because I don’t accept it. I can’t accept it. I won’t!

  Nerves have my tired body on edge. I don’t know what I am going to say. The need to just see him and inhale him in all his maleness claws at my insides. It’s not the best idea I have ever had but it’s something I need to do. My heart is twisted so badly I am not sure where to turn. I need that one piece of information so I can decide what to do next. Where do I go after this?

  I’m not sure. I want to say it depends largely on what Dyane should say to me. I want to say I handle whatever it is he throws at me this time. But then again, that is lying. I can’t handle anything that man throws at me not after this. Not after tearing and ripping my heart to pieces. I can’t trust him. Not anymore. Can I? Would you?

  As I sit stopped at a red light on Hwy 90, heading from Milton into Pace, two blocks from Dyane’s house the edginess has invaded my body like fire ants on a piece of watermelon left in the grass. Should I turn around? Should I? I keep asking myself, the light turns greens, and I turn. I head to his house, I must see him in the flesh. Hear his wicked voice, see his devil eyes and know for sure, he told me the truth.

  Pulling into his driveway, I park behind his big white truck. The lights are on inside his living room, so he’s up and home. I’m not sure that will be a good sign or not. I wasn’t sure if his work schedule was the same or not. It looks like it is but then again, he could be getting ready to leave for work. I just need a few minutes with him to know what’s next and why. Why did he act like an ass?

  As I walk up to the front door, I look down at myself, a pink tank top and denim shorts with white sandals. Maybe I should have worn a dress, I ask myself. But my thoughts are all over the place and I’m suddenly very scared. This whole situation is surreal and just should not be happening!

  My right-hand trembles as it pushes his doorbell and I hear the ding, dong, ding dong of the tune ring through his house. I can hear his recliner click down, the heavy sounds of his feet as he walks to the front door and my stomach flips. Now I want to throw up on his doorstep. I’m suddenly thirsty and anxieties are jumping to be free. I see a spider web at the top left of his front door and I want to wipe it off. I catch myself and focus…or I try to as the door opens wide.

  Dyane stands in the open space of his front door, his huge body taking up all the empty space and he just stares down at me. Sort like I’m rubbish, I blink that thought away, that can’t be true. He tenses and I catch that. His hands grip the door tightly, too tightly and I tell myself I have come too far to back away now. I must do this!

  “Hello, Dyane,” I stutter in a shaky voice.

  “What in hell are you doing here, Dawn?” Dyane asks in a booming voice. His eyes hard and unreadable.

  He’s dressed in tight blue jeans and a blue cotton tee shirt, white ankle socks on his large feet, his short black hair wet. He’s just had a shower, I think. The noise from the television fills the short space of emptiness.

  “Can I come in?” I ask. My eyes asking that same question, as my stomach clinches, and I clinch my hands into tight fists as I fight for calmness. I want to hurl myself into his arms and have him hold me tightly. But from the look in his eyes, that is not going to happen. Probably never again…

  He doesn’t answer me, at least not with any words. Dyane steps to the side, just giving me enough room to pass into the opening leading to his living room. As I walk into the center of his living room, I see the odd touches of me that I had left at his house are still there. I wonder why he hasn’t thrown them away. The scented candles are still on his entertainment center and on his counter. Coasters are still on his coffee table, and a picture I had bought still on his wall.

  My gaze wonders around the space I had become so comfortable in, and my eyes land on a drink at the end of the couch. That’s when my stomach drops, my mouth becomes dry and I snap my eyes over to his harsh gaze. He looks at me all of a sudden with pain. And, it’s then that I realize this was not a good idea. This is not good!<
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  “What are you doing here, Dawn?”

  “I needed to talk to you Dyane. In person.” I answer in a shaky low voice.

  “About?”

  “You know about what!” I snap. “About us.”

  “What about us?” Dyane growls out, his hands waving at me. “There is nothing between us anymore. It’s over.”

  His words hit me but I still can’t believe them. His eyes are pained and I wonder if that is really the truth. Everything happens at once after that thought drifts into my mind. I hear the shower, the one in his master bedroom, and I gaze back to the coffee table seeing that drink. It hits me. He’s not alone.

  There’s someone in his shower! In his bedroom.

  I’m not leaving like a coward. I decide to swallow the stomach acid that has come up, and continue until I get my answers. I need to know something. I will get some answers. I need them! I want to cry. I want to run away at this moment. But I also wish he’d hold me, kiss me, and just say he’s sorry. But I don’t see him doing that. Do you?

  “Why?” I ask softly. A straight to the point question but with so much meaning.

  “Time to move on,” he grunted. I don’t believe it. I won’t. “I’m not relationship material Dawn, I told you that from the start.”

  “People change,”

  “Why can’t you get it,” he yells at me. He suddenly moves back to his chair and takes a gulp of the drink he had sitting by his chair. He looks like he wants to snatch me up and shake me. Hmmm….

  “Because it doesn’t fit with the way you fucked me,” I taunt him.

  I am sorry I couldn’t stop it after the words left my lips.

  I still want him.

  I love him.

  “Right about that,” he responds. “Fucked.”

  “So, you only fucked me? Used me?” I ask. “You don’t love me?” There I finally ask the question I wanted to ask for a long, long time. I don’t expect an answer.