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Dangerous Defiance

Page 9

by Natasha Knight


  He looked at her. “All right,” he said. “Come with me a second.”

  She followed him up the stairs and into his bedroom where he paused in front of the full-length mirror.

  “Turn around.”

  “Why?”

  He held back a reply. Instead, he took her arm and turned her, then tugged her shorts and panties down her legs.

  “You can’t spank me again!”

  “I’m not going to. I just want you to see the evidence of what happens when you decide to go around me and take care of things yourself. Take a good look,” he said.

  “Let me go.”

  “Look!”

  She turned to look over her shoulder at her bruised butt. “Fine. I see.”

  He held on to her when she reached to pull up her shorts and panties. “You’re in my house now, Jess, and I’ll expect you to do as I say.” He reached for a high back wooden chair and pulled it to the center of the room, the back of it facing the mirror. He pulled her t-shirt over her head, continuing to talk the entire time. “It’s for your own good and I’m not going to budge an inch on this,” he finished. She stood as if in shock as he pushed the cups of her bra beneath her breasts and lifted the small mounds, tweaking each nipple as he did.

  “What are you doing?” she asked, her voice quiet as her nipples hardened between his fingers and her eyes betrayed her arousal.

  “Getting you in the right frame of mind,” he said, turning her so she stood with her belly touching the back of the chair. “Bend over, legs wide so your inner thighs touch the outsides of the back legs of the chair. Take hold of the front legs for support.”

  She looked up at him, color warming her face but not a hint of resistance in her eyes. Actually, there was something other there, something akin to acceptance.

  “Jackson?” she began.

  “Do it.”

  It took her a few moments and he did not assist her but rather stood back to watch, his cock thick in his pants. She widened her stance and leaned forward, shifting her legs a little to balance herself as her hands wrapped around the front legs of the chair. Once she was situated, she turned to meet his gaze, arousal softening her eyes.

  He stood watching her and when her glance slid down to his cock, he moved closer. “Look in the mirror,” he said.

  She turned to glance back, her action slow and tentative. The soft pink flush of her face deepened but she did not move to cover herself.

  “I want you to stay just like this until I’m back. I won’t be gone for more than half an hour. Take that time to think about your attitude, think about how bad girls get punished and how good girls get rewarded.” He stood directly behind her, blocking her view of herself, his hands parting her bottom to expose her dark bottom hole along with the wet folds of her pussy. He pulled her lips apart and reached his fingertips down over the moisture there, finding her swollen nub. She made a sound and pushed herself against his hand when he began to rub. “Good girl,” he said, one finger sliding into her pussy as the tip of his thumb came to rest against her bottom hole. His cock was so hard, he knew he would never be able to get through his meeting without release. But this would be good for her; good for her to remain just like this, exposed and vulnerable and knowing all along she submitted to his will.

  He smeared his wet finger against her thigh and walked to the front of the chair.

  * * *

  Jess glanced once more at her reflection in the mirror. She was close enough that she could see the glistening pink lips of her pussy spread open as if just for him. He moved to stand directly in front of her and she flinched when he unbuckled his belt.

  He must not have missed it. “No whipping unless you disobey,” he said. “Open your mouth.” He unzipped his pants and took them down and her eyes traveled the length of his thick, ready cock. The head of it glistened with the first of his arousal.

  She looked from it to him then back again, opening her mouth when he placed one foot on the chair and his cock just touched her cheek. She licked the very tip first, tasting him, wanting more of him. He took her head in both hands and held her.

  “Look at me,” he said. He waited until she did. “Mouth wide.”

  She could feel her own juices sliding down her inner thighs when he guided his cock into her mouth. She sealed her lips around it while he determined the pace of his penetration, the depth of it.

  “That’s good, Jess. Keep your eyes on me and think about how much you want to come right now,” he said. “I can see it, your pussy is dripping.”

  She made some sound, maybe trying to say something but she wasn’t sure. Her attention went to her work, her natural instinct to look down but his hands holding her, reminding her when she dropped her gaze with a tug on her hair. He moved slowly at first and she savored every inch he gave her, but as his grip grew harder and his movements deeper, tears formed in her eyes and she moved one hand off the chair to push back while trying to pull away from him.

  “Hands on the chair,” he said, stopping, pulling almost all the way out of her mouth. “Now, Jess.”

  She obeyed, she had no desire in fact but to obey, some part of her giving herself over to him, to his commands, to his dominance. Wanting it even, as much as it was at odds with what she thought was right, with who she thought she was or should be.

  “Good girl,” he said, smiling, patting her hair once before resuming his hold on her head. That little action almost made her smile.

  He moved more quickly then, holding her steady, keeping his eyes on her as he fucked her mouth, his cock touching the back of her throat while she tried to relax it for him. She felt the slight thickening of him and tightened her hold on the chair, preparing herself as he slowed, a sound coming from him, his eyes closing, his cock throbbing with release.

  She stared up at him, watching his face when he came, her own clit throbbing. He opened his eyes slowly, withdrawing his cock, caressing her hair now, tilting her chin upward. She moved her hand to cover her mouth. He held her as she was and she knew he was waiting for her to finish the task. She blinked twice and quietly swallowed. He smiled, exhaling, satisfied.

  “Good girl,” he said, releasing her, stepping back to pull his pants back up.

  She didn’t speak but remained as she was, watching him dress.

  “Be good, stay just like this and when I’m back I’ll reward you.”

  “Half an hour?” she asked when he leaned down to kiss her mouth.

  “Half an hour,” he said, adjusting his belt.

  She watched him walk out the door then and listened, unmoving, as she heard the front door open and close and the truck’s engine start.

  Chapter Ten

  Jackson called Carl on his way into the station. “Find anything?” he asked.

  “Just some cigarette butts, Sheriff,” Carl said.

  Jackson could hear the river behind him and knew Carl was still at the site. “I’m on my way down there now,” he said. “I don’t want to leave Ms. Manning alone for too long though.”

  “She was armed, Jackson,” Carl said

  Jackson nodded even though he knew the deputy could not see him.

  “She’s FBI,” he said. Carl was a trusted friend and if he was going to be involved from here on out, he needed to know. “Ben Sanders was her friend.”

  “So I’m guessing she’s not here on official business or you would have told me already.”

  “That’s right.” Jackson could almost see Carl nodding his head. He didn’t ask a lot of questions but Carl was the kind of man who seemed to see everything. Another thought came to him then and he wondered how he’d overlooked it before. She wasn’t here officially, so how did the FBI, and such high-ranking FBI, even know she was out here? And why would the assistant deputy director come to chat with her himself?

  Too many unanswered questions.

  “I’ll see you in a few minutes and brief you then,” Jackson said. Carl was curious and he had a right to know.

  When he pull

ed up to the site ten minutes later, Carl was waiting for him by the cruiser. He shared all he knew up to this point.

  “I’m thinking it was one of the residents who tipped off Ben Sanders, but I can’t figure out who.”

  Carl shook his head. “They would have come to us,” he said, his expression pensive.

  “I know. That’s what I can’t figure out. Whoever it was would have trusted us over an FBI agent.”

  “Have you considered it wasn’t a resident?” Carl asked.

  * * *

  Jess exhaled a breath when she heard his truck turn onto the driveway. Her entire body was sore from being in this position for what she was sure was way more than the half hour he promised. Not to mention the heat between her legs that was demanding her attention.

  When the bedroom door finally opened, Jackson’s expression was, at first, very serious. But when his eyes fell on her, he smiled.

  “Have you been a good girl, Jess?” he asked, coming over to her, rubbing her back.

  She nodded. “Very good,” she managed. “Can I please get up?” she asked.

  “Just a minute,” he said, moving behind her. “If it helps, you can put your hands on the seat.” She turned to find him kneeling behind her.

  “Jackson…!”

  “Stay.” It was an absolute command, no less, and she had no choice but to obey and her body’s physical response to it, to him so close to this most private part of her, was a surge of pure heat from her very center. His hands came to either side of her pussy and pulled the lips apart. “Wet and hot,” he said, his tongue running the length of one lip. “You are delicious,” he said, coming down the other side. His mouth closed over her clit and he began to suck in earnest.

  “Oh!” she managed, widening her legs, her body so aroused for the last however long it had been that it wouldn’t take much for her to come. But it wasn’t to be because he released her too quickly and sat back on his heels, just looking at her. Her pussy throbbed with need.

  “Please,” she begged.

  He rose to his feet. “Come with me,” he said, helping her to rise. “Show me how you make yourself come.”

  “What?” She stepped out of her shorts and panties.

  “On your back on the bed, legs wide, open to me,” he said, stripping off her bra as he went. He pulled the chair directly in front of the bed and sat on it. He’d have a front row view. He stripped off his shirt and unzipped his pants while she watched, knowing there was no way she could do what he asked.

  “Lay back, Jess,” he said, taking hold of his ready cock and beginning to stroke the length of it. “Put your hand on your pussy and show me how you come.”

  Her eyes were glued to the sight of him, of his hands working his cock slowly, the glistening droplet appearing after just a moment almost impossible to resist. Before she knew it, her hand was sliding down between her legs and she was rubbing her clit while he watched her. Encouraged by him, with her other hand, she parted her lips wide, showing him all of her as her hand worked faster, the sound of her slick pussy and their ragged breath the only thing between them.

  She wanted him inside her. She wanted his cock inside her. When she began to moan quietly, he rose, leaning over her with one hand on the bed. He brought his cock to her pussy and while she worked her clit, he pushed into her, her slippery passage greedy to accept him. But he wasn’t satisfied with just that. He lifted her hips and pushed her toward the top of the bed.

  “Hands on the headboard,” he said.

  She hesitated, she was moments from orgasm, and a look was all it took for her to do as he said, gripping the wrought iron, and when she did, he pulled out of her altogether and, holding one leg down, slapped her clit with the flat of his hand.

  She gasped and looked at him, then at his hand. She waited and he did it again, three more times. The sensation of an instant of sting on her now very tender nub followed with a deeper heat, and when he flipped her onto her belly and lifted her hips, she pushed back into him, coming almost instantly when one hand snaked around, the fingers gripping her clit. His other hand held her tight as he fucked her, his own groan filling the room when he came before collapsing on top of her, the pair of them in a heap.

  * * *

  Jess’s stomach growled loudly after a few minutes. Jackson looked at her. “Hungry?” he asked.

  “Starved,” she said. “But shower first.”

  She wasn’t sure why she was surprised when he followed her into the shower but she was, at least for a moment. “Question for you,” he asked as he soaped her back.

  “M-hmm?” she asked, watching the water pool in her palm.

  “How do you think Hanson figured out you were here?” he began. She turned to look at him over her shoulder. “I mean, if it wasn’t official business and you had taken a leave, how would he have known?”

  “I just assumed it was from the office somehow. I mean, how else?”

  “Did anyone know you were coming?”

  “No.”

  He reached to shut off the water and grabbed two towels. She wrapped herself in one as she stepped out of the tub, all the while thinking.

  “Can you tell me some more about what happened with Larimer when Ben was demoted and Hanson promoted a few years ago?” he asked. “Is there anything you might have left out?”

  “I have to look into it. Let me get on my computer, go through some old files. I have a disk in my bag with some files Ben had saved. Maybe there’s something there,” she said.

  He nodded. “Carl had an interesting idea,” he began as they got dressed and made their way downstairs.

  “Does he know about me?” she asked. “He saw my gun last night.”

  “I told him, but you don’t have to worry about him.”

  “What did he suggest that you found interesting?”

  “That perhaps it wasn’t one of New Hope’s residents who tipped Ben off.”

  “What?”

  “Well, think about it. Why wouldn’t they have just come to us, to Carl or myself? It makes sense. I mean they would trust us before they’d make a call to the FBI. Remember, most of these folks grew up here. Their parents and grandparents were born here. It’s a small, close-knit community.”

  “But who then?”

  She grabbed her laptop and booted it up, finding the copy of Ben’s private file on the case.

  “Ok, here are the reports. Someone had sent this in, tipping Ben off. It’s the original—– unofficial—report,” she began, scrolling through and pointing out a few things to Jackson who looked over her shoulder.

  “What’s the date on that?” Jackson asked.

  She looked. “Eight months ago.”

  “Do you have any other reports? Larimer is required to provide them annually.”

  She went back through her files and found one other one. “Here,” she said, opening it. They both looked at it. “Most recent official report shows no contamination.”

  “Who’s the third party doing the testing?”

  “Different one in each case,” she said after clicking through the files.

  Jackson’s phone rang. “Sheriff Montgomery,” he said.

  It was quiet for a moment and Jess turned to look at him. “I’ll be right there. Don’t touch anything.”

  “What is it?” she asked, standing when he turned to grab his keys, his face very serious.

  “Two men were found a few miles from town. One was dead.”

  “Dead?”

  He nodded once. “Shot.”

  “Oh my God. What about the other one?”

  “Barely alive. The chopper is taking him to the hospital in Langdon, the next bigger town over, now. Carl thinks it’s the men from last night.”

  “I’m going with you.”

  “You are staying right here.”

  “Jackson…”

  “At least one other man is dead, Jess.”

  “Because of me.”

  He inhaled a deep breath. “Look through the files,
see if you can find anything you might have missed. There’s nothing you can do there but get yourself into trouble. Stay out of sight, like we agreed. It’s not forever, I promise. Besides, you can’t help Ben by being there. Reread the files. There has got to be something he or you missed.”

  “All right,” she said. “I will look over the files again. See what I can figure out.”

  He nodded. “I’ll call you when I’m through at the site.”

  Jess walked him out and went back inside. Two men shot, one dead. Both likely killers themselves but still, at least one more life lost. She sat back down at her computer and spent the next two hours reading every word on every file but still turned up nothing.

  She took a deep breath and rose from her seat, heading to the kitchen to make coffee. She then remembered she needed to wash some clothes; the last clean thing she owned she was wearing and clean was a relative term in this case. She stuffed all the whites in first and started the machine, then found her purse and carried it into the kitchen. She’d at least listen to Ben’s message again.

  When the coffee was ready, she poured herself a cup and turned on her phone. Her message light was blinking. She hit the button to retrieve, setting the phone on speaker. The line was too crackly and bad and she went back to listen again, this time putting the phone to her ear. There was no greeting and it took her a minute to understand what she was listening to. She played it a third time, setting her coffee down.

  The message was more a clip of a voice recording. The line was terrible but she could make out Hanson’s voice:

  “It’s too soon. Give me one more week.”

  “No, the contamination report comes out tomorrow. You’ve been stringing me along and I’m finished.”

  “I’m just looking out for our best interests.”

  “You’re looking out for your best interests. Report comes out tomorrow or I expose you for the fraud you are. Clear?”

  “Calm down, Royson!”

  The message cut off there. She checked the phone number it came from but it was listed as a private number.

 
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