by KyAnn Waters
Dustin’s hands visibly shook as he tried to handle the steering wheel. Blood raged hot and slick in his veins and his heart pounded painfully like a jackhammer against his ribs. He maneuvered through Roslyn’s neighborhood. Leaving the headlights off until he reached a major thoroughfare, then he headed back toward the hotel.
“Fuck.” He swore and pulled off the highway. Violent trembles racked his body. Ragged gasped couldn’t fill his lungs. He needed a moment to collect himself. Now. He took a couple of rights until he turned onto a dead-end side street. After stopping the car, he clenched his fists and laid his head against the steering wheel. He took his gun, making sure the safety was set and placed it under the seat. All the while, he continued to drag in deep breaths. It didn’t help calm his rioting emotions. His chest was too tight.
Tonight had been close to a repeat of the last shooting he’d been involved in. One-sided gunfire, only this time the risk was personal. McKenna had responded to his orders, and they had escaped, but the bullets had been close. They’d been a warning. If the Marino’s had wanted, they could’ve left them dead in the grass. Out in the open they had been easy targets.
“Hey.” McKenna went to her knees and slid her butt onto the console between them. She rubbed the length of Dustin’s spine. “Look, we’re okay.”
Dustin’s nerves were live wires under her touch. Every muscle in his body tensed to the point to of pain. When their eyes met, something dark and foreboding passed between them. His arm snaked out and wrapped around the back of her neck bringing her mouth to his. Sliding wildly into her heated mouth, his tongue possessed. Burned. Consumed. Mad with lust, yet his passion was driven by anger. Anger at himself. He had to assure himself she was safe. Touching, caressing, proving to himself he hadn’t failed her.
McKenna didn’t think, just responded. His lips moved over hers, drawing her tongue into his mouth. Sucking and tasting. Her body became pliant as Dustin pulled her sideways onto his lap. Her knees bent over the console and she placed her feet on the passenger seat. His fingers slipped under the hem of her tank top. Flat against her stomach, his hand moved up to her breast.
A moan broke from her lips. He filled his palm with her small breast and rolled the taut nipple between his finger and thumb. Pleasure tugged on her clit and her panties were damp with desire.
Reaching to the side, Dustin pushed the seat back as far as it would go and moved the backrest to a semi reclining position. Desperate to ease the ache thrumming through her clit, she clung to his shoulders and shifted her legs to straddle his lap. She aligned her heated mound with his thick arousal and moved against it.
The street was deserted. Without street lamps and with the engine off, darkness cloaked the car. She lifted her arms and he grabbed the hem of her tank top, yanked it up, over her head and off.
“I want you so much.” Dustin bent and placed a kiss between her breasts, trailed his tongue higher, and nibbled along her collarbone.
“Then have me.” Clasping his head, she arched back against the steering wheel. His wet mouth greedily circled her areola taking her erect nipple between his teeth and gently biting. Pleasure heated her pussy and warm cream trickled from her channel. She cried out.
He gripped her ribcage, held tightly and thrust against her. “Mickey—”
“If you stop now, I swear I’ll kill you myself.” She nipped at his lip.
Knotting his fingers in her hair, he pulled her head back and grazed his teeth along her stretched neck. “I don’t think I can stop.”
McKenna pushed on his chest and shifted back into the passenger seat. She smiled as she unbuttoned her jeans. Slipping off her shoes, she put her feet in his lap. “Pull,” she said, lifting her hips.
Dustin grabbed the cuff of her jeans, and they slipped from her hips. Heavy-lidded eyes locked on the thin scrap of fabric masquerading as underwear. Feeling as frantic as Dustin appeared, she stripped them off then she climbed back over the console, completely naked and straddled him once again. Lips sought lips. He kissed her hard and demanding, sliding his tongue into her mouth at the same time the blunt tip of his finger slipped into her drenched curls and traced the heated slit of her mound.
“Please.” She whimpered, and he traced her hole, drawing moisture onto his fingertip and painting her clit. Rolling her hips, she chased his finger. “Now.” She rocked hard, and he plunged his finger deep inside her drenched channel. “Oh, yes.” He twisted, turned, flicking against the sensitive inner walls. Cream coated his finger.
His erratic breath bathed her face. She gasped with each plunge of his finger. Foreheads touched. She inhaled his exhale.
“You’re so tight.” A second finger joined the first. Easing back the hood with his thumb, he grazed her clit.
Arching her back, she plunged hard onto his fingers. Not enough. She needed him. Rough, controlling, demanding. She needed to be fucked by the hard assed detective that stormed into her life, into her bed, and damn it, into her heart. “Fuck me, Dustin.” She lifted off his fingers and tugged on the zipper of his jeans. “I can’t. Damn.” The front of his jeans was tight with his bulging erection.
“Let me.” He brushed her hands aside and aggressively unzipped his jeans. His cock jutted from a thatch of dark springy hair. Moisture seeped from the tip. She touched the velvety skin then wrapped her fingers around the heated length and stroked him with slow yet firm pressure.
He growled and slammed his eyes closed.
Leaning forward, she sipped his lips. “I want you inside me.” She leveraged up and poised his cock at her slitted entrance.
Breathing harshly, he grasped her hips, and in one quick stroke, lunged into her. Impaled full hilt, he pulled her close and forcefully claimed her lips. He thrust deep, her heated sheath gripping him tight, and swallowed her cry. She rocked faster and her lashes fluttered closed. Nothing could have prepared her for his voracious demands. He bucked into her cunt in a maddening motion. She whimpered, her quivering walls taking his fierce, relentless drives. Thrust and retreat, fucking her roughly.
A growl rolled from his throat, and the punishing intensity lessened. Nothing separated them. Her breasts jiggled, rasping against the soft cotton of his T-shirt. In the confined space of the car, she lifted and lowered on his thick shaft. His hands fisted in her hair, then caressed her neck, trailing along her spine, finally cupping her buttocks. McKenna met his demand. Harder, with more downward thrust. Muscles quivered. In a flash, her internal walls convulsed. Stars exploded behind her eyes. His burning length seared her drenched flesh. Sizzling intensity washed over her. Waves of contractions gloved to Dustin. She gasped, relishing in the release as her nails cut into his shoulders.
“Fuck.” Strained muscles in his arms bunched. Strong fingers gripped her hips and anchored her tight to his groin. His cock stretched, pressing against the top of her channel. His hungry moans sent her spiraling. Her orgasm built again, juices drenching her core.
“Oh, Dustin.” Her hands braced against the steel seam of the ragtop. Taking on a rhythm of their own, her hips jerked back and forth. “Oh, god. Oh, yes!”
With a roar, Dustin slammed his head against the headrest. His lips pulled back, and breath hissed through clenched teeth. Every muscle tensed beneath her fingertips. He shafted her cunt, milking his cock in her convulsing channel. Sweat trickled from his temples, and his face reddened. Finally, he depleted his energy and the storm of his orgasm ebbed. He brushed damp tendrils of hair from her temple.
McKenna rolled her forehead on the fogged up driver side window. She could feel tears threatening to fill her eyes. She bit the inside of her cheek, not wanting Dustin to misunderstand. It wasn’t remorse but an ache deep inside that no one had ever touched.
She put her hands on his face and brought their lips together, a caress of lips and blending of breath. Soft and tenderly, she opened up for him. His arms tightened around her. Their panting relaxed into breathing.
“We should go before the neighbors become suspicious an
d call out the local black and whites,” he said.
“Mmm, okay.” She sat straighter. “I thought cops took care of each other.” She scooted into the passenger seat and looked for her panties. “You know, aren’t cops supposed to look the other way for cops. Let you off the hook when you get stopped for speeding.” Her voice muffled as she searched under the seat. “I bet you give your partner’s wife a break when she runs through a red light.”
“My partner has been divorced three times, and he’d kick my ass if I let his last wife off.”
“You know what I mean.” Finding what she was after, she turned around in the seat. “What are you smiling about?” She shimmied her panties up her thighs. “Well, I mean, I know what I’m smiling about, but you look like you know something I don’t.” She put her feet into her jeans, raised her hips, and tugged them on.
“My legs are numb,” he said matter-of-factly. “I’m still in shock that one of the Marinos nearly put a cap in my ass—“
“My ass, too.”
“And that I parked in a neighborhood—”
“And fucked your former person of interest,” she finished for him. She righted her tank top. “Although, we don’t have to risk being shot again to have sex.”
“No, there won’t be a next time,” he said starting the car.
“What?” No sex?
“Getting shot at, Mickey. As for the other, give me twenty minutes.”
“What about the moving truck? Are we still going?”
Dustin nodded as he pulled out onto Pacific Coast Highway. “We need to find out what Roslyn’s running from. I think we’ll get the answers from her. First we’ve got to find her, so yeah, we’re still going.”
“Do you think the Marinos will be there?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t think they’d be at Roslyn’s. I’ll tell you what I do know. They won’t have the upper hand again.” His jaw clenched. She could read his thoughts by his tight-lipped mouth and furrowed brows. He mentally kicked himself for going into Roslyn’s but more so about having her with him.
“Well, we have more clues now, so the risk was worth it.”
His eyes snapped to hers. “Bullshit. I’m supposed to keep you safe. I need to be smart, think through all options and work out a contingency plan before charging into another Marino.”
He rolled his shoulders and adjusted in the seat, becoming the focused steadfast detective again. Sex had a way of sharpening the senses and giving an edge.
* * * * *
Joe Marino swore as the convertible fishtailed and drove out of view. Once again he had been a day late and a dollar short. At this very moment, Robert was rummaging through Ms. Porter and Detective Pearce’s hotel room. He was supposed to meet him there…with the Porter woman and the detective. Now he’d have to make a phone call and explain how he once again failed.
“We missed them,” Joe said to Robert.
“You’ve got one more opportunity. Redford Moving and Freight in the industrial park.”
* * * * *
Dustin circled the block, finally pulling into the employee parking lot. Some cars appeared abandoned. Obviously, some drivers stayed out for long periods of time. Between grimy windshields, rusted fenders, the shiny convertible wasn’t exactly going to blend in. If the Marino’s knew to look through Roslyn’s packed possessions, Dustin and McKenna wouldn’t be hard to spot.
“Wait here,” he said, taking the pencil-sized flashlight out of the duffel bag.
“No, I’m going everywhere you go.”
He sighed. “I’m not leaving you. I’ll just be gone a minute. You’ll be able to see me, but stay in this vehicle.”
“Fine.”
“Thank you.”
Dustin crouched close to the ground and worked his way down the line of cars shining the light through the windows. About every other car, he risked being seen and moved to a position where he could see the convertible. Above anything else he had to keep McKenna safe.
Finally, he found what he was looking for. As he slowly opened the door, it creaked on its hinges. Keeping low, he slid into the car and turned the keys dangling in the ignition. Sputtering and coughing, he pumped the gas until the old car gurgled to life. Smoke from the tailpipe looked like dark thunderclouds rolling in over the Oklahoma prairie. He let the car idle about a minute. There was less than a quarter tank of gas, according to the gauge idling precariously close to E.
He cut the engine then popped the trunk and took a dirty shirt from the backseat. Maneuvering to the rear of the car, he left the shirt partially hanging out and closed the trunk. Now the vehicle would be easy to recognize if the need arose for alternate transportation.
“Ready?” he asked opening McKenna’s door.
“How are we going to get by the guards?” She nodded toward the two heads sitting before a small television sipping coffee in the guard shack at the entrance to the lot.
Dustin tossed the duffel bag over the chain link fence surrounding the property. Dozens of trucks were parked side by side. “Climb over.” He held out a hand for McKenna.
“Give me a hotdog. What if there’s a guard dog?”
“They have rent-a-cops. No dogs.”
McKenna linked her fingers in the fence and poked the toe of her shoe between the wires. She quickly scaled the fence. With his good leg, Dustin hauled himself three quarters of the way up the eight-foot fence. At the top, they carefully straddled the rail and climbed down the backside.
“Look for trailer number 412657.” They walked down the row of trucks. “Put these on.” He handed her a pair of latex gloves.
Numbers were located on the side of every truck. “Right here, Dustin.” She grabbed the door release handle and yanked open the back.
“Not that door. Roslyn was the second pick up. Her stuff will be in the middle.” They walked between the trailers, and Dustin slid open the middle door. “Work fast, Mickey. I want to be out of here in ten minutes, and there are a lot of boxes to go through. Scan the contents quickly. Anything related to her accounting firm, the Marinos, or your father we’re going to take with us. I’m not about to get caught off guard again.”
“We’re doing a little more than trespassing, this time. What’ll happen if someone spots us? Not that I’m worried. I’d rather be in jail than dead.” She climbed into the truck. “Hey, we just got lucky. These boxes are labeled.” She glanced over her shoulder at Dustin. “I shouldn’t be surprised. Accountants are meticulously organized.”
“If we’re lucky, we’ll find something that tells us where she is.” He moved boxes stacking those marked kitchen, bathroom, and sheets to the side.
“Office!” Excitement made her voice louder.
“Shhh.” He chuckled. “Let’s see what we have.” Dustin climbed over a box and ripped the packing tape from the top. Stacked neatly on top were pastel colored jewel cases with cd-r’s labeled with last names.
Dustin grabbed a stack and quickly flipped through the names. “Marino,” he whispered. “Mickey.” He showed her the disc with her last name. They had the proof they needed. Roslyn represented both the Marinos and Dr. Porter. It was possible there were others involved. “We’ll take all of these,” he said, placing them into the duffel bag.
“I know it’s a little late to be concerned, but shouldn’t we have a search warrant?”
“Technically, yes.” He glanced at her and grinned. “We wouldn’t be granted one. We don’t know what we’re looking for. Judges frown on fishing expeditions.”
McKenna continued to shine her flashlight on the boxes looking for those that could contain relevant information while Dustin finished digging in the box marked office.
“What did you find?” he asked when he heard the tape coming off another box.
“Photo albums.” She unpacked a picture frame protected in bubble wrap. “I want to know what she looks like.” McKenna stared at a young woman smiling brightly on some tropical island resort. Large hotels towered in the background, and whit
e sand beaches stretched to surreal green water so clear it looked painted. “Look at her.”
Dustin squatted behind her. “Not what I expected.” Smile as bright as the sun, dark hair dancing with the wind coming off the sea, Roslyn appeared in her early thirties.
“What does a woman like this have in common with an ornery doctor who never wanted to have fun?”
“Put it back, Mickey.” He placed his hand gently on her shoulder. She nodded and then picked up another frame from the box. A floppy eared, soaking wet, cocker spaniel sat in the bathtub of the house they’d just run from.
“I don’t even know her, but I hate her.” She put the pictures back in the box.
“To be expected. Elliot gave to her what he could never show you.” Dustin stilled as his penlight skimmed across a sheet of paper.
“What is it?”
“Nothing,” he said stuffing it into his duffel. At least nothing he was ready to show her. “We’ll sort it all out later. Come on. Times up. We’ve got to get out of here.” He quickly stacked boxes on top of the ones they’d pillaged.
“What about those?” she said, pointing to another six boxes.
“No time.” With the duffel bag over his shoulder, he dropped to the ground. “Shh.” He put his fingers to his lips. Hugging the side of the trailer, they made their way back toward the fence.
The parking lot looked dark and deserted just as before. As Dustin was about to step from the shadows, he caught the scent of cigarette smoke. He inhaled through his nose and tried to detect the direction of the smell. A glint of red captured in the reflection of a side mirror drew Dustin’s eye. Smoke drifted from the nondescript windowless utility van.
“We can’t wait them out.” McKenna stood close to Dustin. “They know we’re here.” The convertible was in the direct line of sight for whoever was in the van. The problem at the moment, Dustin’s backup scenario wasn’t feasible either. The van was parked directly across from the beater with the T-shirt hanging out of the trunk. Trying to formulate another plan, Dustin leaned back against the trailer and closed his eyes.