Dirty Laundry (Get Dirty 2)

“That son of a bitch!” Keith seethes, getting to his feet. “I never laid a hand on him! I wanted to, but I didn’t.”

Detective Morrison doesn’t even flinch. He’s stone cold as he gestures back to the couch. “Please sit down, Mr. Perkins. Remember how I said I believe you?”

Keith takes a big breath, obviously steadying himself, and sits down. “Sorry. I didn’t lay a hand on him,” he says more calmly.

“I’ve been doing this a long time, learned a few things along the way. One of which is how to read people. Mr. Jardine doesn’t particularly strike me as an honest character, just based on his storytelling. It was full of sensationalism that made sense with his particular profession. I took pictures of his injuries. I visited his office too, took some evidence shots there as well. My gut tells me he saw you on TV this morning, concocted this story, and went so far as to have someone punch him to give the story credibility.”

I blurt out in shock and frustration. “So what do we do?”

“Stay right here at home, get me the tapes and the names of your alibi witnesses, and wait for me to write up this report.”

“That’s it? I’m just supposed to sit here and wait?” Keith growls. “My family’s being threatened, and I’m supposed to sit on my ass?”

“Yes, exactly that. And leave your cameras on and recording just in case. I think this will be pretty quick once the alibis check out, but if Mr. Jardine is willing to blackmail you, and I suspect intentionally injure himself to make you seem violent, he might be willing to play hardball in other ways too. Just stay put and I’ll be in touch.”

Keith shows Detective Morrison out and comes back to sit next to me before pulling me into his lap to straddle him. He holds me tight, pressing his cheek to my breasts, breathing heavily as he calms down. “This is so fucked up. I can’t believe he’s saying I beat him.”

I scratch my fingers along his jaw, letting the scruff tickle my fingers, letting my man know that I’m here for him. “It’ll be okay. Detective Morrison seems to be on our side and will check everything out. Donnie’s a media pro with strategies and manipulations at his fingertips, and this is his move in response to our going public. He wants to create drama and questions about your character to save his own skin. But we know the truth, and that’s enough.”

“You know as well as I do that sometimes the truth isn’t what people want to hear,” Keith says, pulling back and looking up into my eyes. “They want scandalous secrets and dirty laundry, told with dramatic flair. It makes them feel better about their small lives. Most folks don’t get that a small life, just you and the people you love living simply, is the best thing to have. They want for more when they have the best thing a person can wish for.”

I lean back, marveling at the wisdom he spouts off so easily. “You’re a good man, Keith Perkins. I love you.”

“I love you too, Elise,” Keith rumbles, looking at me with desire as the mood changes. There’s still anger, but it’s against something we can’t change right now . . . but we can celebrate us and what we have.

He grabs my hair and the back of my neck, and I eagerly go to him, opening up as he plunges his tongue in to twist with mine. He cups my breast through my t-shirt, letting his thumb trace back and forth across the already pebbled nub.

Gasping, I push back, even as my body betrays me and my hips grind in Keith’s lap, knowing what it wants. “Keith, we can’t . . . Sarah and Carsen . . .”

He grins evilly, not even glancing in the direction of where they went. “Are watching a movie upstairs. I’m in charge here, Elise. And we need this . . . something normal, something that feels right.”

He waits for me to protest, but he’s right. I need this as much as he does, to let the drama outside our doors disappear and get lost in each other’s bodies for a moment. I nod, and his grin widens as he lifts me off his lap. “Get on your knees. Suck my cock between those pretty lips, looking in my eyes like you know I love.”

As I move to the floor between his legs, unbuckling his jeans, he runs the pad of his thumb over my lips and I suck it into my mouth, teasing his pad with my tongue. “Mmm . . . like that?”

Keith’s eyes are locked on my lips, watching his thumb disappear and reappear from my mouth. “Yes, just like that. Suck it like a good girl.”