by Iris Morland
"No, not there, Caleb!" She giggled like mad as he tickled her. Gasping for breath, she finally pushed him away and climbed on top of him, pinning him down to the bed.
"Be a good boy and stay there," she commanded. She felt his cock harden under her, and she smiled in the darkness. Holding his wrists to the bed, she shimmied against him, rubbing her wetness against his lengthening cock. Groaning, he tried to break free from her grip, but she held firm. Then again, she had a feeling he could tip her over and have his way with her in seconds. She appreciated that he let her play—at least for the time being.
With the darkness came the insatiable need to fill it with words. Megan had never been much for dirty talk in bed. Usually it was embarrassing, if not downright crass, and anytime a boyfriend had tried it she'd erupted into laughter and the mood had been killed. Now, though, she didn't feel that way. She felt triumphant—and infinitely sexy.
Pushing her fingers through her folds while letting go of one of Caleb's wrists, she gasped to find the moisture already pooled there. In a breathless voice, she murmured, "You make me so wet, Caleb. You don't even have to touch me. I think of you and I get wet."
He inhaled a tight breath. His hips bucked under her with a slight movement. "How wet are you, baby? Tell me."
"So wet that my hand is almost soaked." She took his hand and pressed it to her sex. "Feel it for yourself."
His long fingers parted her, and he cursed, long and low and desperate. Vibrating with need, he seemed to be barely restrained from taking her right then and there.
He played with her, stroking her and laving her with her own wetness, and she pushed against his hand with every touch. Her body curled in on itself, and she knew an orgasm was close. So close.
But Caleb wasn't going to let that happen so easily. He slid down the bed until her sex was right above his mouth. Megan panted when she felt his hot breath against her center. Her legs quivered in anticipation. When he slid his tongue through her petals, she had to bite her lip to keep from screaming in sheer pleasure. He held her there, even when she wanted to buck and shake. He was ruthless. He lapped at her, like he couldn't get enough of her taste, and she gripped the headboard to keep herself from collapsing.
He tongued her before sucking on one of her folds and then the other. Megan had never been taken like this, with such ruthless tenderness. She tipped her head back, her back in a graceful arch, as Caleb thrust his tongue inside her hot sheath.
"Fuck, you taste good. I can't get enough of you." He finally began to circle her clit, but so lightly that it wasn't nearly enough.
She wanted to beg him to suck her clit so hard that she came, but at the same time, she never wanted this to end. Her body tightened to such an extent that it was almost painful.
"Please, Caleb," she heard herself beg. "Please, please."
His fingers dug into her hips to hold her steady. He licked her—long and thoroughly—one last time before he suckled her clit. The pressure shot a bolt of ecstasy through Megan, and soon she reached her peak. She dug her fingers into the headboard as she came, and the only reason she didn't fall down was Caleb holding her up.
She hadn't even finished coming when Caleb tossed her onto the bed, fumbled for a condom in the bedside drawer, and filled her in one heavy thrust. Her orgasm continued with his penetration, and he pounded into her. Wrapping her arms and legs around him, she could feel another orgasm coiling deep within her belly. Her eyes rolled back into her head when she felt Caleb's cock twitch inside her as his orgasm burst upon him, and he filled her over and over again as she shuddered and shook for a second time.
She couldn't move. She could barely breathe. She gasped, and he gasped, and she couldn't untangle her legs from his. They had become like one entity, and Megan's heart was close to bursting.
Kissing her gently behind her ear, on her cheek, on her forehead, Caleb said her name in a quiet voice that only further proved what she already knew.
She was in love with Caleb Thornton.
12
When Caleb dropped her off at her house later that morning, he said once again, "I'll just be at the station. Call me if you need anything, okay?"
Megan was torn between complete happiness that she and Caleb were together and worry about what people would say when they would find out. Would people think Caleb was slumming it, like Harrison had done with Sara, according to more narrow-minded people? Megan shuddered inwardly.
She'd almost told Caleb that she would drive herself home this morning, but he'd insisted. She couldn't stop herself from glancing out the window at the street outside, wondering if anyone was watching them.
Caleb sensed her unease, but not for the correct reasons. "Do you want me to stay with you? I can call off work, or I can tell Gonzalez that this took precedence today—"
"No, no, I'll be fine." She smiled. Although she had a feeling Caleb didn't really believe her. "Really. You need to get to work, and so do I." Feeling guilty, she kissed him. Then she almost regretted kissing him, because she didn't want that kiss to end.
They were both breathing hard when they pulled apart. "That definitely didn't help my self-control," Caleb muttered.
Megan laughed as she got out of the car. "See you later, Officer. Have a good day." She saluted him.
He tipped his police cap to her before driving away. Megan watched him drive off, sighing as he turned the corner and disappeared. Going inside, she collapsed on the couch and tried to make heads and tails of what had happened last night.
"I slept with Caleb Thornton," she said aloud. "Twice." Gary hopped into her lap, giving her a judgmental look only cats could manage. She stroked his head as she said the words again: "I slept with Caleb. And it was amazing."
She petted Gary absently, her mind whirling. Or maybe it was just that her body wouldn't stop tingling. It didn't help that she'd realized she was in love with Caleb, and if she were truly honest with herself, she would also admit she'd been in love with him for a long time.
Perhaps it hadn't been love at first—not when he'd arrested her, certainly. There'd been attraction, of course. She'd looked at him from afar for a number of years until he'd left Fair Haven, and she'd put him out of her mind as best as she could. Then he'd returned, a newly minted police officer, and Megan's teenage crush had only blossomed.
But when she'd been seventeen and reckless, it hadn't been love. It had been more akin to hate after he'd rejected her and pushed her aside. So how had hate transformed into love? Or maybe it hadn't been hate at all, but a longing for another person to recognize your existence?
She didn't know. She was too exhausted, too happy, too terrified. She wished with all of her heart that everything would work out in their favor, but she knew that life rarely went that simply.
When she heard the knock on her front door, she nearly jumped out of her skin. Gary woke up, all claws, and she yelped when he dug said claws right into her breast. She pushed him off of her chest and glared at him while he glared back.
"Damn cat," she muttered as she went to get the door. Who would be looking for her now? Caleb? Had he decided not to go to the station after all?
Megan blinked when she opened the door. Ruth stood there, her red hair gleaming in the sunlight. She looked concerned.
"Megan, there you are. Why haven't you answered your phone? We've been worried about you." Ruth moved to step inside, and although Megan rather wished she could tell her mother to go away, she didn't have the energy.
Megan pulled her phone from her purse, seeing all of the missed texts and phone calls once she plugged it in to charge it. She winced. Missed calls from Sara, her mom, Jubilee. She blushed when she realized that many of the calls had been when she'd been with Caleb. In his bed. Having more orgasms than she could count.
"Sorry. I didn't know the battery had died." Megan sat down next to Ruth, hoping that this was a quick visit. "I only just got in this morning."
Ruth gave her a look that said she knew what that last statement me
ant, but she didn't comment on it. Instead, she said, "Why didn't you tell me about the man who followed you home? I had to find out from one of those busybodies in town instead of my own daughter." Hurt filled Ruth's face. "Are you all right? Have they caught this man yet?"
Megan wanted to rub her temples, a headache already forming. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I got so caught up with everything that I wasn't thinking."
"You found the time to tell Sara."
Megan winced. She had texted Sara the morning after, mostly so Sara wouldn't have to hear it from somebody else. She'd mistakenly assumed Sara would've told their mother, as Sara—along with James—lived with Ruth at the moment. Megan hadn't thought Sara would keep that a secret. Then again, Sara had probably sensed that Megan didn't want the story spreading any more than it would have. And if she were really honest, she'd admit that Sara had probably assumed—or hoped—that Megan would tell Ruth herself.
"Look, I had a late night. I need to get ready for work. Can we talk about this later?" Megan rose, hoping Ruth would get the hint that she wanted her to leave.
Ruth, though, didn't get up, her expression still full of hurt. If Megan didn't know better, she saw tears shimmering in her mother's eyes.
All of the old emotions—resentment, disgust, fear, anger—filled Megan like a tidal wave, and the headache pushing at her skull began to intensify. She couldn't reconcile the woman sitting here with the woman Ruth had once been. Or more accurately, Megan couldn't suddenly act like a daughter to a mother who hadn't mothered her children when they'd most needed it.
"Were you with Caleb Thornton?" Ruth asked suddenly.
Megan stilled. She'd never talked about Caleb with her mother, mostly because she'd never felt like it was any of Ruth's business. Ruth knew that Caleb had arrested Megan all those years ago, and she probably had some inkling of the combative attraction between them. She'd never asked Megan before, though.
Megan sat back down, albeit reluctantly. "If I say yes, will you let me get ready for work already?"
"Megan, be careful. The Thorntons..." Ruth shook her head. "That mother of theirs put your sister through hell. Do you really think she'll change her mind about you? She'll try to tear you and Caleb apart the second she gets wind of what's happening."
Megan had to disagree, only because she knew Caleb wouldn't let that happen. He'd seen what Lisa Thornton had done when she'd interfered in Harrison and Sara's relationship; he wouldn't allow Lisa to meddle like that a second time.
"It's fine," Megan replied, perhaps more to herself than to Ruth. "And why are you saying this? Are you saying we shouldn't be together?"
Ruth shook her head. "No, not at all. Just that you should be careful, that's all. I don't want another daughter of mine hurt like that. And given your history with this man..." The words died away, but Megan felt them in her gut anyway.
Yes, her history. They had history—that much was true. All of the doubts that had plagued Megan came roaring back, and she had to clench her fists to keep her trembling from showing. What if this is doomed to fail? she couldn't help but think. What if we can't overcome our pasts, no matter how hard we try?
That anger toward Ruth only intensified, because at the moment, she was Megan's only available target. Ruth didn't have the right to warn Megan, like she had ever been a real parent to her. Where had Ruth been when Megan had needed her after her arrest? When she'd been swimming in a mire of shame and guilt and self-hatred? Ruth hadn't even noticed because she'd been too busy getting drunk.
"I know we have a history, but honestly, I don't see how it's any of your business." Megan tried to sound cool, but she knew she sounded bitter more than anything. "I get where you're coming from, but it's unnecessary. Caleb and I will figure it out on our own. I think we both know that people trying to interfere in other people's relationships never ends well for anyone."
Ruth looked hurt, and Megan couldn't help but notice the deep lines on her mother's face. Ruth was sixty now, and her years of drinking hadn't been kind to her. Although she looked healthier sober, she would never be able to escape the damage done to both her appearance—deep lines, broken capillaries, loose skin—and her internal organs. It was a miracle her liver still worked at all.
Ruth frowned deeply, those lines only intensifying on her face. "Why can't we talk anymore?" she asked in a plaintive voice. "Your sister and I have mended our relationship, but you won't even consider it. Am I going to be the bad guy forever?"
It was on the tip of Megan's tongue to say yes, but she restrained herself. Barely. She couldn't help but remember the days and nights when Ruth hadn't made sure that her daughters had enough to eat, or decent clothes to wear to school, or shoes without holes in them. She hadn't been there when Sara had suffered from terrible rumors during high school; she hadn't been there when Megan had been arrested.
And there was the crux of Megan's anger, because within its core was sheer terror—terror that she would turn out just like Ruth. It was ironic that Megan's arrest had been because of drinking; or rather, it had been fitting. Megan had her mother's blood flowing through her veins. What if she became just like her? Bitter, angry, fueled by drink and nothing else. Negligent and selfish. Even though Ruth was sober now and could definitively say she was not like the woman she used to be, the old Ruth still haunted her and everyone who’d known her. She was a ghost that could never be fully exorcised.
The terror swirled until it settled in Megan's gut, hard and heavy. I can't end up like her, she whispered. I have to be better than her.
Her arrest had been a wake-up call, but it had also instilled in her the message that one false move would send her straight into the spiral that Ruth had been stuck in for over twenty years.
Megan swallowed against the lump in her throat. "I'm not like Sara," she said in a hoarse voice. "I'm not going to forgive and forget and act like everything is roses. Do you have any idea what you did to me? To us? Forgive me if I'm not particularly interested in being nice to a woman who doesn't know the first thing about being a real mother."
Ruth flinched. Guilt assailed Megan, but she pushed it away.
"I know you're still angry, and you have every right to be. I can't say sorry enough. It won't bring back those years." Ruth wiped at her eyes. "But I don't want you to stay like this. You can't let anger rule your life. I did, and it only ends up making you miserable."
"Nice words, but I'm not biting. Talk is cheap, and that's all I've been hearing lately: talk." Megan gestured toward the front door. "I need to get ready for work."
Ruth didn't need another hint. "I'll call you later, then." When she reached the door, she hesitated. Looked over her shoulder.
"What is it?"
Ruth just shook her head. "It doesn't matter, because talk is cheap, right?" She smiled grimly before leaving Megan to herself.
Caleb arrived at the station that morning, his brain trying to concentrate, but it was almost pointless. It was full of Megan: Megan in his bed, in his arms, arching under him. Megan smiling, Megan moaning. When he'd seen a woman with red hair enter the station, his heart had pounded until he'd realized it was someone else.
He almost slapped himself for being so obvious, but it wouldn't have made any difference. Last night had been perfect, amazing, glorious. Mind-blowing. His entire body remembered, and dammit if he didn't get an erection just sitting at his computer.
"You look happy today," Gonzalez said, his tone clearly amused. He sat down in a chair across from Caleb. "Now I'm dying to know why."
Caleb shifted in his chair and tried to wipe the loopy grin from his face. "It's nothing. Have you gotten anything more on our guy?"
"Nice subject change. We did get something. There was a report of a man with a similar scar committing petty thefts down in Seattle, and he was caught on camera at a local 7-11 in the Fremont area recently." Gonzalez motioned for Caleb to open some files that had been added to the station's shared drive. "Here's the video from Seattle PD. I doubt there are too many
other guys with scars like that running around in western Washington."
Caleb watched as the man who'd been terrorizing Megan stole a number of candy bars, sodas, and cigarettes before exiting the 7-11. If he didn't know the man was dangerous, he would've laughed at the random robbery for junk food.
"So we have our guy. Do we know how to find him?" Caleb asked.
"We're working on it. He's stopped committing bigger crimes because he knows we're getting close." Gonzalez sat back in his chair and gave Caleb a slow smile. "Now that we're all up to speed, tell me why you came in looking like you won the lottery. It wouldn't have anything to do with the woman at the center of all of this, would it?"
Caleb couldn't help but feel like he was in elementary school again, the teacher asking him if he had, in fact, put that frog on Tiffany Anderson's shoulder on the playground. Except that this time, he hadn't done anything wrong, and two, he was a grown-ass man.
"Since when did you become this fucking nosy?" Caleb tried to sound irritated, but it didn't deter Gonzalez one bit.
"Since I've been your supervisor since you started here, and I've watched you and Megan Flannigan go at it like two Tom cats in an alley. I had a feeling being this close to her would cause something to happen. So, are you dating now or what?"
Caleb didn't know the answer to that. Were they dating? Or were they just hooking up? He frowned at his computer screen. He really needed to talk to Megan about all of this, but at the same time, that might result in something he didn't want to hear. Like she had only wanted him for a night and that was it.
Now he downright scowled.
"I don't know what we are," he finally admitted. "It's...complicated."
"Isn't it always? Just don't make that your Facebook relationship status, though. Johnny did that with his last girl, and she almost assassinated him." Gonzalez laughed. "At any rate, talk to her. Tell her how you feel. Really feel. Women want your heart on a silver platter and nothing else. They know when you're half-assing it. Believe me."