Traffic on I-35 was spotty at that hour. The morning rush was over and only a few stragglers remained. I held my body close to the low contours of my Harley Sportster and zipped around slower moving vehicles, weaving and winding my way across multi-lanes of traffic. My dad had been the one to teach me how to ride even before I could drive a car. He and his work buddies had had their own middle-aged men’s motorcycle club. They used to ride on the weekends when the weather allowed, exploring every roadside bar between St. Cloud and Fergus Falls.
He’d taught me drive a snowmobile. He’d taught me how to shoot a gun. And now we barely spoke. My mom had balked at the idea of her daughter mastering such so-called masculine tasks, but they’d served me well so far.
I left the city traffic behind and kept driving even when the highway narrowed to two lanes—one southbound, and the other north. I only pulled off at a roadside park when my legs started to cramp.
I parked my bike on the narrow paved lot. It wasn’t a proper rest stop with public bathrooms, but only a thin strip of pavement and a small park with a few wooden picnic tables. The sun was positioned high in the sky, and I regretted not having the foresight to at least have brought some water with me.
I retrieved my phone from my saddlebags to discover a number of missed calls, all from Julia. Her voicemails transitioned from cheerful and teasing, to annoyed at my avoidance, and finally to worried as to why I wasn’t answering my phone.
I swallowed back emotions of anger and regret as I called her back. I thought she might give me a taste of my own medicine and let my call go to voicemail, but she picked up after the second ring.
“Is something wrong?” she demanded. “I’ve been trying to get a hold of you. I thought we might meet for lunch, but now my day is entirely slammed with client meetings.”
“I’m sorry. I’ve been busy with work. Victoria LeVitre confessed.”
Julia made a thoughtful noise. “That’s unexpected. She must think she can get a lower sentence in a plea deal.”
“She confessed to interfering in a police investigation, not murder,” I clarified. “She’s admitted poisoned herself to frame her husband, and nothing more.”
Julia was silent for a moment, letting the information sink in. “That … that’s smart. I’m sorry, darling,” she amended, “but it is. If she thought you were getting closer to pinning a murder on her, she beat you to it.”
“That’s the thing though—I don’t think she murdered Tracey Green. But she wanted us to believe her husband did.”
I jumped at the loud blast of a semi-truck’s horn. The massive sixteen-wheeler slowed to a crawl. The leering grin of a grizzled driver loomed down on me as he slowly drove by.
“What was that?” Julia asked.
“A semi.”
“Semi? Where are you?”
I looked around at my surroundings. Nothing looked remotely familiar. “At a rest stop somewhere between Minneapolis and Canada.”
“Why are you—.” Julia cut herself off. I heard her deep exhale. “When are you coming home?” she asked instead.
The thick lump in my throat choked me. It brought to mind my recent conversation with Grace Kelly.
Home.
“Soon,” I promised.
The sun was just beginning to set by the time I made it back to St. Paul and Julia’s condo. I let myself in quietly. I didn’t bother taking off my boots even though I’d probably get a lecture.
Julia wasn’t in the living room, or the dining room, or the kitchen. “Babe?” I called out into the quiet of the apartment.
“In the bedroom,” I heard her voice filter down the hallway.
I made my way quietly to the master bedroom at the back of the apartment. Julia sat upright in bed on top of the covers, her back against the pillows on the headboard. She wore a short, cream-colored robe over a black silk nightgown. Black-framed reading glasses clung precariously to the end of her nose as she sifted through the various file folders littered on the bed. Her hair was pulled away from her face with an elastic band and her features had been scrubbed clean of makeup. As usual, my heart ached in my chest. She was so goddamn beautiful.
She looked up when I entered the room and patted the empty space beside her on the mattress. I gingerly sat down, careful not to disturb the case files scattered around her.
“So she’s going to prison,” Julia broke the silence.
I nodded glumly.
“Because it’s against the law to fabricate evidence that makes it look like your spouse killed someone.”
I nodded again.
Julia removed her glasses and set them on her lap. “So what’s the problem?”
“The problem? There’s a woman going to prison, and it’s all my fault.”
“Did you make her break the law?”
I stared down at my hands to avoid her determined stare. “She said I wasn’t doing my job so she had to do it for me.”
“Did you make her break the law, Cassidy?” Julia tried again.
“No,” I scowled. “But there’s going to be a jail cell filled that would have been empty if I’d never tried to solve this case.”
“You didn’t make her do anything. Human beings have this wonderful little thing called freewill.”
I chewed on the inside of my lip. I felt my resolve to be angry at myself starting to slip. “Maybe.”
“There’s no ‘maybes’ about this one, love.” Julia tucked a loose lock of hair behind my ear and began to twist my matted tendrils around a long finger. “Why don’t you let me take your mind off of it?”
“I’m not really in the mood,” I sighed.
I thought my words might offend her, but if anything they made her more determined. She leaned closer to me, and her lips lightly brushed my ear. “Let me worry about that.”
My eyes shuttered. Her warm breath hitting against my ear and the side of my neck was nearly enough to make me forget all about the day.
She stood from the bed and collected the folders and other stacks of paper to relocate to a bedside table. Julia could be impulsive and passionate, but not so much as to make a mess of her case files and create more work for herself.
She curled her finger at me. “Up,” she commanded.
“Up where?”
“Stand at attention, Marine.”
I couldn’t hold back my tired groan. “Baby, no offense, but I’ve had a really long day.”
“I know you have, darling. And I want to make sure it ends on a good note.”
Like a petulant teen, I hefted myself off the too-comfortable mattress.
“Okay,” I grunted. “I’m up. Now what?”
Julia wiggled her fingers beneath the front of my waistband and tugged as if manipulating the strings of a marionette.
“At attention, soldier.” The words were sharp, but her tone remained rounded and soft.
I had no choice but to straighten my body.
Julia lowered herself to her knees and offered up a sweet, comforting smile. “Lift up your leg,” she quietly coaxed, tugging at my firm calf.
I obediently lifted my right leg from the floor, balancing only on my left. Julia wiggled her fingers up my pant leg and brushed the pads of her fingers against my calf. She gave me a wry smile as she pulled the leather boot down my calf and off of my foot, tugging the wool sock off along with the heavy shoe.
Her fingers sought my naked arch and she began to massage the bottom of my foot. I happily groaned. Riding my bike, especially for the distance I’d put in that day, could be murder on my feet.
I rested my bare foot back on the hardwood floor. The polished surface felt cool against my sweaty sole. I felt unbalanced, with one boot on and the other off—my legs at two different heights. But it was more than that; I never knew what Julia had planned for me in the bedroom.
She looked up at me with an expectant gaze. “Now the other,” she cajoled, pulling on my left leg.
My mouth twitched as if considering whether or not to speak, but
I remained silent and merely lifted my left leg instead. Julia removed the remaining boot in one smooth, fluid motion and my sock followed.
Julia remained crouched on her knees. I reflexively reached out to stroke her raven hair.
She smirked at the simple gesture. ”I think you like this—me on my knees.”
I was honest in my reply. “Don’t hate it.”
Julia popped the button of my dress pants.
She reached for the zipper and slowly lowered the fastening, one excruciating notch at a time.
I swallowed hard, unable to tear my eyes away from her soft, feminine hands. My body trembled when Julia peeled away the front panel like opening a delicate flower to reveal the sweet nectar inside.
She pressed her mouth against the front of my underwear and gave me a kiss, although the location was too high for my liking. Her hand went to the elastic waistband of my underwear, but instead of lowering them, she pulled them snug. The elastic bands cut into my thighs and the constricting material between my legs pressed against my throbbing clit. She finally tugged my pants down my hips and past my knees and ankles. She lifted my feet again, one at a time, to help me step out of the discarded pants.
Still on her knees, Julia traced her fingers up and down my now quivering legs. She carefully inspected my skin and seemed to smile at the trail of goosebumps that appeared. She hooked her fingers at the top of my form-fitting boi shorts and slowly dragged them down. She continued to wiggle the material down, letting the soft cotton slowly scrape against the inside of my tender thighs until finally revealing my shaved sex.
My knees buckled when Julia brushed the tip of her nose across my already protruding clit. A jolt of pleasure rocked my body and I felt the blood rush down to my throbbing center.
“Christ,” I grunted under my breath.
I grabbed onto the wooden headboard for stability. My hand clenched around the wooden knob at the head of the bed, and I felt and heard the material creak and groan under my vice-like grip.
Julia smiled knowingly. “Anxious, lover?” she purred. She stroked her fingers again down the insides of my tense legs.
This was soft and tender and new. Our sex was always hard and rough like two unstoppable forces colliding. I’d once asked her to not take it easy on me in the bedroom, and she never had, seemingly up to this point.
“I have no intention of taking it easy on you, darling,” she informed me, as if reading my thoughts. “I’m going to tease and tempt you until you’re crying for me to let you cum. Is that acceptable?”
I swallowed hard. “Oh-oh-kay.”
Julia finally stood. Without her stilettos, I was a few inches taller, but I would never pull rank. She pulled on the center of my v-neck shirt until the cups of my bra peeked above the neckline. Her fingers were soft on the tops of my breasts as she traced a slow line along the perimeter of my bustline.
I shut my eyes and blew out a long, deep breath. Even though her touch remained fairly innocent, I could feel it between my legs, which proceeded to grow more and more damp.
“Lift your arms for me,” she lightly instructed.
I’d followed every command so far; I wasn’t going to stop now.
My t-shirt came off quickly, and her fingers tickled down my sides. “Almost there,” she murmured, as she lazily toyed with the underwire of my bra.
Julia leaned forward and nuzzled her nose along the expanse of my neck. I heard her inhale my scent, which was probably a combination of gasoline and exhaust from my bike ride, but she made no complaint. She wrapped her arms around my ribcage, and her fingers traveled to the center of my back. Fumbling briefly, her own breasts pressed tightly into mine, she found the bra clasp.
Smiling at her handiwork, Julia took a step backwards and gently pressed her hands on my shoulders, coaxing my arms back down at my sides. Her fingertips brushed the bra straps from my angular shoulders, letting the cotton strips fall down my arms and causing the undergarment to fall entirely from my chest.
Julia took a few more steps back from my now-naked body. I heard her appreciative murmur and watched her eyes slowly travel the length of my body. I crossed my arms over my chest as a flash of modesty and embarrassment washed over me from standing so vulnerable and exposed.
“Don’t get shy on me now, Marine,” Julia clucked. She stepped toward me and gently pried my arms away from my breasts. “I need to be able to enjoy my view,” she purred.
My girlfriend hefted the slight weight of my naked breasts in her hands. She caressed and squeezed the pliable skin. “These look delicious, darling,” she whispered, before leaning down to kiss across the tender flesh.
I sucked in a breath and enjoyed the feeling of Julia’s talented mouth fluttering across the expanse of my breasts. She placed small, butterfly kisses on the exposed skin, and I felt mesmerized at the sight of this exquisite woman so completely distracted by my body.
Her warm tongue flicked out against a hardening nipple, and I loudly hissed. It felt like a fire-hot poker, rather than her tongue, across the sensitive bud. Julia sucked hard on the nipple causing my body to flush with heat even more.
Julia released the tightened nipple and pushed against my collarbone with just the tips of her fingers, leading me towards the bed. I fell backwards onto my back when the backs of my knees hit the edge of the mattress. I obediently lay back onto the mattress and breathed out into the room.
I remained motionless on the bed, yet gnashing my teeth, as I watched my girlfriend shrug out of her silk robe. It pooled in a pile at her ankles. Julia toyed with the bottom hem of her short black nightgown before she inched it up, revealing her flat abdomen, her swelling breasts, the delicately defined clavicle, and up and over her smiling face.
The mattress sank beneath me as Julia climbed up the bed in only high-cut black panties. She straddled me between her thighs. My hands reflexively rested on her upper thighs and moved higher to touch her naked breasts, but she slapped my hands away. Instead of looking cross, her pleasant smile belied her plans for me. She ran a single, polished fingernail down the center of my naked body before running a lazy finger around and around my sensitive nipple.
“Baby,” I couldn’t help my whine.
Her lips twisted into a smirk. “We go at my pace,” she reminded me.
I whimpered when she leaned forward and scraped the tip of her canines along the length of my neck. She sucked on my sensitive pulse point while I clenched at the cotton bed sheets on either side of me. I would have rather held onto her, but she’d made it clear that touching her—for now at least—wasn’t part of the plan.
Julia pressed her panty-covered sex against my thigh and began a slow, circular grind. Even with the material between us, I could feel her molten-hot heat as she pressed harder into me. Her eyes screwed shut and her breathing became labored.
I moaned when she pulled her panties to the side and slid her pussy against mine. The intense friction caused both of us to call out, sensitive clit touching sensitive clit, dancing the most intimate tango. Julia reached between our bodies and rubbed the pad of her thumb against me. I sucked in a deep breath and my eyes rolled back when she moved from rubbing small circles on my clit to sliding a solid finger deep into my ready sex.
All too soon, she pulled the saturated digit out. I opened my mouth to protest until she hooked her fingers under the sides of her underwear and shimmied them off.
Her finger went back inside my pussy, earning her another guttural groan. She bottomed out, and her knuckles bumped roughly against my clit. She pulled out again, this time painfully slow. Again, I wanted to voice a complaint until she spread my arousal on her own pussy.
“Mmmm,” she softly murmured. She continued to grind her lower body against my thigh. “Isn’t it better when we share?”
A strangled noise of agreement was my only reply.
Once more she penetrated me. Before I could get used to a steady rhythm, she abandoned me and slid her sex-coated finger between her own pussy lips.
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I gasped at the erotic visual. “Fuck, baby. That’s so fucking hot.”
I couldn’t pull my eyes away from Julia’s torso as she pistoned the single finger in and out of her pussy while she hovered above me.
Demonstrating an unreasonable amount of willpower, she removed her finger and offered it to me. I grabbed her wrist and greedily sucked her digit into my mouth. I rolled my tongue around, feasting on our combined arousal.
“Mmm, good girl,” she approved.
I couldn’t play passive observer forever. I grabbed onto her hips and tried to sit up, but Julia placed the palm of her unoccupied hand against my shoulder and pushed, forcing me back on the bed.
She clucked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. “Not yet, Cassidy,” she admonished. “It’s still my turn.”
I didn’t put up much of a protest, so Julia maintained the dominant position. She kissed and licked her way down my stomach, pausing to dip her tongue into the concave of my bellybutton. She swirled her tongue in the shallow crevice as if a promise or indication of what her talented tongue was capable of.
Julia retreated long enough to spare a smile. “It’s been a challenging month, darling. Just sit back and let me do this for you,” she murmured as she parted my thighs.
My back arched, breasts thrusting forward, when I felt the tip of Julia’s tongue finally touch my aching clit. She lashed her tongue against the sensitive nub, forcing loud cries of satisfaction from my mouth. She wrapped her lips around the small bud and continued flicking at the bundle of nerves with the tip of her tongue. She sucked on the small organ, pulling mewls of satisfaction from my parted lips.
“Fuck, Julia,” I groaned loudly. “Fuck. Your tongue.” I tugged roughly on her raven-black tresses and held onto the back of her head.
Julia buried her face more fully into my naked sex. She lapped at my throbbing clit, lavishing attention as if she depended on my arousal to survive. She ran her tongue the length of my slit and sank her long tongue slowly inside my seeping pussy. Her tongue curled and brushed along the insides of my clenching and convulsing sex.
Julia withdrew and replaced her tongue with two feminine fingers.
Cold Blooded Lover Page 21