She makes a needy high-pitched sound in the back of her throat and breaks away from my mouth, panting for air.
“Hungry, are you?” I grunt in satisfaction. “Want to ride my fingers?”
Her lips tighten as she tries to keep her yes inside her mouth. She knows once I’m inside of her, that’s the end. No matter how hard she tries to deny it, she’s lowering her walls.
“You don’t have to say a word, Khloe. I got you.” I slip two fingers inside of her. The resistance of her tight cunt doesn’t go unnoticed, nor does the widening of her eyes and another swallowed gasp. She hasn’t seen much action here. I’d guess that she’s seen none—not even a toy or her own fingers. “You’re a real virgin, aren’t you? Literally untouched.” She’s been saving herself for me and didn’t even notice. “Don’t you worry. I’m going to take good care of you.” I prop her up slightly so she can watch me fuck her with my hand. “I’ll be gentle now but later when it’s my cock, I’m going to fuck you hard and long.” Her pussy clenches around my fingers, ecstatic at the idea.
She starts to tremble as the fire I’m stoking between her legs becomes a full-fledged inferno. The phone rings. I ignore it.
“Your pho—“
“Forget it.” I push another finger inside of her. My dick’s fucking thick and I don’t want to hurt her when the time comes for us to fuck.
“But—“
“Focus on your cunt, Khloe.”
The phone keeps ringing.
“They’re ca—“
I pick up the phone and hurl it across the room. The metallic crash mingles with her surprised yelp and yet, the fucking thing doesn’t stop ringing. A muffled laugh escapes her mouth. She takes advantage of my momentary distraction to wriggle free of my grip and push me off of her.
“I can’t focus on my cunt, Dane,” she says, climbing off the sofa. “Your phone is too distracting.” She puts her hands on her hips. “Aren’t you the chief of police? This could be a town emergency.”
I get up with a sigh and go to the kitchen to wash my hands off. I don’t think she’s in the mood to watch me lick my fingers clean—more’s the pity. “Ren’s on duty.”
“Someone wants you.”
You, I think. You’re supposed to want me. And she does, but she’s still trying to convince herself that I’m a bad bet. I wipe my hands dry and take the phone. Through the cracked screen I can see that it is dispatch. I give Rose at the station a call.
“Ren’s checking out a disturbance at Easters and we got a report from Tina Schulz that someone’s lurking in her backyard and she—and I quote—‘won’t be able to sleep a wink until Dane gets here and checks out my gardens.’ I think she’s saying she wants you to—“
“Yeah, I got it,” I cut in before Rose can tell me more explicitly exactly what she thinks Tina wants me to do.
“Don’t forget that your motto is protect and serve,” she cackles, a little too gleefully.
I tuck my phone into my pocket. “You got a jacket somewhere?” I ask. There’s a front hall closet near the door. I head over to check it out.
“Why?”
“I need to check something out and Ren’s busy.” I rummage through it and pull out a zip-up sweatshirt. It’s not exactly the best covering for tonight, but it’s better than the floral coat and thick puffy winter one. I’ll have to stop by the hardware store tomorrow and pick up a barn coat. If she’s going out with me, she’ll need something thicker.
“Okay, but what does that have to do with me?”
“You’re coming with.” I shake the hoodie. “Come over and put this on so we can get this errand over with.” The sooner we are done with Tina Schulz, the sooner I’m going to have my hand down Khloe’s pants. Or, better yet, my mouth.
“I’m not going with you.” She pushes her hair out of her face. “I’m going to bed. I’m tired and I have a full day of recording tomorrow.”
“Your new mic’s not here yet and I need you.”
“For what?”
“Protection.”
12
Khloe
What am I doing? I peek over at Dane. I think his hands have special powers or something. Why else would I be back in his car going on a work call with him? I’m not even sure this is legal. I also have a feeling that he makes the rules around here, so it doesn’t matter if it is legal or not. I mean, he’s been breaking the rules since the first moment I met him.
“You cold or you pouting?” he asks, turning up the heat. I’m not cold but I’m not pouting either. I drop my folded arms. I’m confused about what the heck is going on between us. This man keeps pushing himself into my life. I’m beginning to like it way more than I’m willing to admit. It’s endearing in a sweet, annoying way.