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“You,” I repeat. He slaps my ass, which only makes me inch closer to my orgasm.
He nips my ear. “Tell me what you want. I’ll give you anything. Tell me, baby.” His fingers flutter over my entrance, my belly contracts, but it’s not enough to give me what I crave.
“Your cock,” I cry. “I need your cock.”
“That’s my good girl,” he whispers in my ear, then surges inside me hard. With his arm around my waist, he guides me down and bucks beneath me, our bodies melding together as one. With both hands on my hips, he says, “Faster, Gwen. Show me how much you want me.”
I want him! I move up and down, grinding hard as I take him inside again and again, loving the way he’s grunting and moaning. I’m stunned when he flips me onto my back, spreads me wide, and begins hammering inside me. All I can do is hold on and ride the wave of my orgasm as it crashes down like a tidal wave hitting the shore. Wave after wave, I feel every amazing inch of him inside me until I finally hear the sound I’ve been wanting. I revel in his lion’s roar as he pushes into me one last time, seated to the root, his face buried in my neck, fully spent.
Caleb doesn’t move, and I relish the closeness. His fingers slip through my hair, then he lifts his face and stares deeply into my eyes.
“Mornin’, baby,” his gruff, low voice rumbles.
I bust out laughing. Caleb joins me, his cock slides out, and he shift his weight onto the mattress, pulling me with him so that my top half is resting on his chest.
“Morning, handsome,” I murmur. “I, uh, hope, that was okay.”
“You wanna wake me up that way every morning, have at it.” He snuggles me closer, rolls me onto my back, and kisses me. “Hear me, Gwen. I love you.”
My heart is bursting with joy, and I quickly reply, “I loved you first.”
He quirks his brow. “How’s that?”
“The first time I saw you come up the walkway to your place, I thought how much I wanted you to like me. I knew you were special. I fell in love with you then.”
“I was an asshole to you.” He brushes his fingers over my lips.
“My head may not have liked you very much sometimes, but my heart knew better.”
“I’ll make it up to you, baby.”
“You already have. I’ve never been happier. I can’t imagine my life without you.”
“I promise. I’ll do everything I can to make you happy.”
“Each morning, I want to wake up next to you, and there’s nothing better than when you say ‘Mornin’, baby’ the way you do. I’m happy.”
SEVENTEEN
Dead Body Found
CALEB
The bustle of the precinct keeps me busy all morning. Crime doesn’t take a vacation. In the midst of trying to track down Karen, and Zeke collecting and running through a fifteen-hour tape of the library, we’ve had to respond to three domestic disturbances and several robberies. Top that off with a rush-hour accident and the station has been buzzing.
I’ve had to pull Alex and Damian off our case and send them out to support the other officers. When I see Alex walking in with a suspect in handcuffs and a pissed-off expression, I can see it must have been a difficult situation. The man looks to be in his fifties, with a pot belly. He obviously doesn’t think personal hygiene is important. He’s got a scruffy beard, and I can smell the alcohol from where I’m standing across the room.
Damian comes through the door shortly afterward with a woman by his side. She’s also middle-aged, her dark hair up in a bun, her wrist wrapped and a bandage covering her cheek. Damian must have taken her to the hospital to get checked over. She’s visibly shaking. Immediately, one of the female officers goes over and leads her into a private room. In these situations, we find that many women are more comfortable around a female officer.
Damian makes his way over to my office and takes a seat across from my desk.
“How’s she doing?” I jerk my head toward the room where the woman is sitting.
“Considering everything, surprisingly well. He’s a mean drunk who likes to pick a fight and use his fists. There’s a record of calls to their place from neighbors. This time, the wife called when the bastard went after their eleven-year-old son. Up to now, she’d been the target. Going after her kid was the invisible line the idiot crossed. She’s charging him with assault,” Damian says.
“Eleven?” I know it’s impolite to ask a woman her age, but this lady is at best in her late forties. “Where’s the kid?”
“Staying with her sister. She’ll be joining them once this is done. The kid came along late in life, but she adores her son. Daddy dearest resents the kid for taking all Mommy’s attention. He’s been harboring resentment toward his kid for years. Tonight, the dam burst.” He sighs and asks, “How can you hate your own son?”
