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It wasn’t until I made her scream—twice–that I finally let myself go, pouring all my frustration, guilt, and love into her. I got down on my knees as she leaned, slumped against the wall, breathing heavily. I lifted one of her shaking legs and put it over my shoulder, holding her steady with the other, then cleaned my cum off her inner thighs with my tongue.
Twenty-Seven
ETHAN
I droppedCasey off at the diner, heading to the police station after giving my mom a kiss on the cheek and saying hello to my dad in the kitchen. The office was quiet since not a whole lot of crime happened around our small town. For the most part, it was petty theft and physical violence. That wasn’t to say that we didn’t have our fair share of criminal activity. It was the whole reason we hadn’t wanted Casey to stay at a hotel. But it was nothing like the larger cities, and I was grateful for that.
I strode across the room to my office, which was little more than a coat closet. I had been proud when I had earned the office, but I ended up keeping the door open most of the time to keep from feeling like I was being buried alive in a coffin. I sat down at my desk and started reviewing the files that hadn’t been on my desk Friday.
“Hey, Detective.”
I grunted, barely glancing up from the files. One of the officers that had been hired when I had been promoted to detective rapped on the doorframe before leaning against it. Jared was a good guy, one I was happy to have my back if the situation ever called for it. “I wanted to make sure I updated you. First thing this morning was the final day of the court case for that guy that murdered his pregnant wife.”
That got my attention, and I set down the papers, looking up at him. That had been a fucked up case, and I couldn’t wait to hear how long he was being sentenced for. “How long?”
“Yeah, that’s the problem. His lawyers found some kind of mishandled evidence. The judge declared a mistrial.” He looked as pissed as I was. He’d been the officer on scene to arrest the guy, which was why he’d been at the trial. I had been following closely—for obvious reasons. The guy had been thrown into the county jail without bail due to the nature of the crime and his chance of being a flight risk. Brent had been livid, wanting to mete out his own brand of justice.
“That motherfucker walked?” My hands were clenched into fists on my desk, and I had to resist the urge to throw my computer screen across the room.
“Yeah, he fuckin’ walked. You should have seen the smug smile he gave the courtroom. The poor woman’s mom was crying her heart out. He just walked past, givin’ her a fuckin’ wink.” He shoved his hands in his slacks, turning around to stare out across the office full of cops typing away at their computers, likely filing a million copies of every report to cover their asses and the entire department. “I have never wanted to throat punch someone so much in my entire life.”
I cleared my throat as I thought of what Brent would do once he got his hands on the guy. He would wish for a simple throat punch within minutes of encountering Brent. “Nothing we can do about it,” I said gruffly, picking the file back up. “We keep an eye out for him to fuck up again. Hopefully, we catch it before he hurts the next woman. Or worse.”
Jared rapped his knuckles on the door again before backing out. “Right. Okay, I’m getting to work. Just wanted to make sure you knew.”
“Thanks, Jared.”
I let the information go to the back of my mind for the time being. What Jared or anyone else didn’t know was that the guy likely wouldn’t live to see the end of the week. He might have been smug, thinking he literally got away with murder, but he would have been better off taking his sentence. I didn’t think he would be as satisfied knowing he was about to be pigshit.
The rest of the day went by quickly. I had a few house calls to make and follow-up questions on open cases I was in charge of. One of those calls was to the younger Mrs. Banks. She assured me that she was doing fine. The children seemed happy enough, sitting on the floor nearby and playing with toys.
The questions I had to ask were all bullshit. I hated wasting my time and hers, but if I didn’t do everything like a real investigation, I could put Brent in danger; I had to follow the rules, cross the T’s, and dot every fucking I. We were standing in the foyer of the large, lavishly decorated house and I shook her hand. Before letting go, I looked into her eyes, searching.
“Are you doing okay, Mrs. Banks?” Her color was good, and the shadows that once lived in her eyes seemed to have faded. They weren’t gone, and she still looked apprehensive, ready to jump at any sound, but I was certain that wouldn’t change until quite some time had passed. She would never get a body to bury along with her fears. All she would have to heal was time. But eventually, she would be free.
She swallowed and blinked up at me, moisture filling her eyes. “I’m good, detective.”
“And your daughter?”
Her shoulders seemed to roll in, hunching in on herself. It was the reaction of someone trying to protect themselves. I hoped it was also one of shame. If there was any question that her husband had been hurting the child, that reaction would have been all I needed. I would be keeping an eye on both her and the girl to make sure she didn’t fail her daughter again.
“She’s good.” Her soft whisper was filled with pain. Good. I nodded, dropping her hand, and left the house. Not everyone deserves a second chance to prove they could be better. I hoped I wasn’t making a mistake with her.
I dropped the paperwork back off at the police station, ready to call it a day, and headed straight to the diner. I snorted when I pulled up to the front to find Brent practically fucking Casey’s mouth with his while pressing her up to the side of his truck. I honked once, making Casey jump like she’d been jolted with a cattle prod, and laughed when Brent didn’t even stop inhaling her tongue as he reached behind him and flipped me the bird.
I pulled up next to where his truck was parked and waited for either of them to come up for air. When Casey was finally able to focus her glassy eyes, her face broke out into a happy grin. She pushed past Brent, ignoring him as he grumbled, and skipped over the few feet to where I was waiting with my window down and the car idling.
“Hey,” she breathed out once she reached me.
“Sugar, when you say hello, you say it with a kiss.”
She nodded. “Okay.” Then proceeded to say hello until the fucker I had been in love with since we were hardly more than boys pulled her away and carried her back to his truck, setting her in the passenger seat. He slammed the door, giving me the evil eye, and started to stomp around to the driver’s side. When I honked my horn again, he stopped, throwing his head back to growl at the sky. Then he turned back around, stomping straight at me with a murderous glare.
Once he ducked his head down, our mouths clashed together in a rough kiss that left us both breathless when we finally pulled apart. He nipped my lip once before pulling his head out of the open window. Still bent down, our foreheads touching, he grinned coyly.
“See you at home.”
“See you at home,” I said, not breaking our eye contact until he turned around and walked back to Casey.
