RidingtheWaves (12 page)

She grabbed a handful of the bedspread. Excitement mixed
with reluctance mingled in her stomach. “You said you would never hurt me.”

“And I meant it.” He lowered his face and placed delicate
kisses to her lips. Long strands of hair fell forward, caressing her cheek.
“Keep your trust in me.”

She trusted him with her life. But some things raised flags.
To this point, he’d respected her feelings. He’d even untied her from the bed
immediately the other night when she’d asked. No, trust wasn’t an issue.
“You’ll stop when I ask?”

“Yes.”

“Promise?”

“I promise. You won’t want me to stop.”

Nicely said. Her belly warmed. “I don’t know what to do.”

“I’ll do all the work. Do you have any artificial
lubrication?”

Wow, she’d never been asked that before. Unfortunately she
didn’t. While her belly withered from disappointment, she shook her head.

He grinned. “Olive oil is a great substitute.”

Seriously? Olive oil? What a messy endeavor, but oh so worth
trying. A tiny spark of salvation lit up her insides. “I have a bottle in the
spice cabinet.”

Her breath caught as he crawled off the bed and walked
toward the door, his ass muscles tightening through his jeans. She watched that
enticing derriere until it disappeared from the room, her heart thundering in
anticipation of what was to come. For his sake, she hoped she could do this.
She desperately wanted to please him. But what if she disappointed him instead?
No, she wouldn’t allow that to happen. He’d be gentle—he’d promised.

When he returned carrying the bottle and fixing his gaze on
her eyes, her belly somersaulted. Yes, she definitely strived to please this
man.

As he removed his pants his penis dropped forward. And as he
opened a condom and slid it into place, a bubble of warm liquid oozed between
her thighs. Jesus, watching him touch himself was such a turn-on. No wonder he
wanted her to masturbate while he watched. One day she’d have him repay the
favor.

“Are you sure about this, Annalee?” he asked as he lay down
beside her and rubbed noses.

She nodded.

“How fond are you of your bedspread?”

“Not very.” It was at least four years old and time to buy a
new one anyway.

He kissed her gently but within mere seconds his breathing
deepened and the pressure from his lips increased. He darted his tongue in her
mouth, swirling it around hers, tasting the inner side of her cheeks. Then he
ended the kiss with a subtle peck to her lips. “Roll onto your side.”

As she flipped onto her hip, he lay down and stretched out
along her backside. Placing a hand around her waist, he tugged her to where her
rear snuggled his groin, then he took hold of her upper leg and pushed it
toward her chest. “Keep it right there,” he whispered in the hair above her
ear.

She squeezed her eyes shut and held her breath, waiting for
the tip of his penis to rupture her virgin ass, but instead his hard cock
passed between her thighs, through her folds, where he started to thrust. Up.
Down. Slow. Then fast. Over and over.

Within seconds, she began panting. She moved her hips in
sync with his strokes. He wet a finger with her juices and gently worked it
inside her ass a little at a time. When she adjusted and relaxed, he carefully
added a second finger, pumping it in and out delicately, opening her gradually.

“Are you okay, baby?”

“Mmm hmmm.” How could she not be? The pleasurable feelings
branching to her spine shot her senses into another dimension. So many hidden
nerves. And he’d touched them all.

Just when climaxing fell within reach, he removed his
fingers. “No,” she pleaded.

“I’m not finished with you.” He guided his cock into her
pussy.

Disappointment briefly reared its head. “I thought—”

“Shhh.” After a dozen long, deep strokes, he withdrew his
penis and replaced it with the tip of the dildo. Slowly he maneuvered the
rubber novelty inside.

She gasped.

“Are you ready?” he asked, twisting the rubber toy back and
forth.

Beyond ready. Beyond coherency too. “Yes.”

“Work the dildo, Annalee.”

Without hesitation, she grabbed the thick toy and shoved it
in and out of her cunt. When her thumb grazed her clit sparks ignited in her
womb and a blast of heat wormed its way through her blood.

The bottle cap twisted open. Lukewarm oil slid between her
ass cheeks. Then his fingers came into play, sliding into her rectum with ease
to grease her insides.

She bucked against them, but too soon they withdrew. The tip
of his penis moved to her ass, where he circled it around her opening. She
squeezed her eyes shut, waiting, anticipating and in one little speckle of her
mind, fearing the intrusion.

Her breath caught as he skillfully added pressure with his
cock, increasing it with each rotation around her anus until the head
effortlessly breached her anal rim and carefully slipped inside.

She groaned. Her muscles contracted, giving him a squeeze.
She held her breath. “Oh God,” she whimpered.

“Am I hurting you?”

She shook her head against the mattress. “No,” rode from her
lips on a breath. No pain. Just a euphoric, mind-boggling sensation. What a
wonderful, thrilling experience. So many nerves. So, so many frigging nerves.

As he inched deeper, she shoved her ass backward.

He grabbed her hip and stopped the motion. “Easy. You need
time to adjust. Too much too soon will hurt you,” he whispered against the top
of her head, still holding her hip steady while slithering his cock farther.

When completely embedded, he added more oil to her anus
before he retracted slowly then reinserted just as slow. He moved her hand
aside and took control of the dildo, pumping it in opposition to his thrusting
cock. Jesus, she never experienced anything so erotic or fulfilling in her
life. Clamping her teeth together, she wiggled her fingers between her thighs
and massaged her clitoris, intensifying the tingly prickles running rapidly
along her spine. And then there wasn’t anything slow about it. Her body took
over. She slammed her ass against his cock, giving him no choice but to ride
along at her intense speed.

“Brent,” she wailed. All at once a brilliant light exploded
inside her. Her body shook. She bucked her hips at marathon speed. With her ass
and cunt full and finger working feverishly on her clit, her insides burst free
in an array of bliss. Quick, constricting spasms of ecstasy branched
everywhere.

He groaned. A final slam was followed by short, quick jabs,
then his thrusts totally ceased.

For a long time she lay on her side, exhausted and weak,
waiting for her heartbeat to subside and her breathing to return to normal.
Strands of her hair stuck to perspiration dotting her forehead. If Brent hadn’t
been massaging her hip and thigh, she’d swear she’d died.

She blinked when he removed the dildo and his cock, leaving
her stretched and empty. She protested with a moan, but he guided her onto her
back and planted a kiss on her that reignited a thrill in her tummy.

He broke the kiss and stared into her eyes. He didn’t say a
word, but he didn’t have to. His gaze, laced with admiration, said it all. Her
heart swelled, bringing her fears to life. How could she let him go? How would
she survive if something happened to him while on assignment?

Tears bubbled in her eyes. She buried her face in her hands
but to her dismay, he removed them.

“What’s the matter, Annalee? Did I hurt you?”

It was much, much worse, and more serious. His compassion.
And understanding. And attentiveness. And gentleness. And experiencing this
severe case of like for the second time in her life had taken a toll on her
heart.

She shook her head, placing her palms on his cheeks. “I
can’t talk about it right now. Please, just promise me you’ll come back.”

“Baby, I can’t make that promise, but I can promise you that
I’ll try.”

Now that was a whole lot disheartening.

Chapter Eight

The assignment wasn’t unfolding as easily as Brent had
envisioned. He’d assumed it would take place in broad daylight. Instead Sterns
dropped him and Timmons off at the entrance of an alley at night while he and
eight other officers moved across the street to stake the warehouse where the
snitch supposedly spotted the scumbag Sadist an hour ago.

Agreeing to bring Rashand down was one thing, but this
unexpected event had Brent’s hair standing on end. Hell, he thought it’d be a
well-organized entrapment. Instead he felt like he’d been tossed into a game of
hide-and-seek with a group of criminals.

Sterns had ordered Brent and Timmons to stay in the alley
where they’d be out of the line of fire in case the situation took a bad turn.
The
line of fire
. Not a very encouraging statement. A getaway route adjoined
the backside of the alley to a street that they’d been instructed to utilize as
an escape at first command.

Once they spotted Rashand, Brent’s role was to vocally
entice him outside but to remain hidden in the shadows. Sterns and the cops
would take it from there.

He should’ve kept business strictly to the sea, rather than
get thrown in some freaking alley tucked behind the streets of Miami. This
so-called
mission
was something he’d only seen happen on TV.

He’d promised Annalee he’d try to come back, but Christ,
under these circumstances it didn’t look very promising. Hopefully when he’d
made love to her before he departed he’d left an impression. Her moans and body
language turned him on so damn bad he’d nearly exploded prematurely a half
dozen times. He brought out the dildo for assistance and he’d fucked her for
three hours straight, switching between him and the toy until she begged him to
stop. He made damn sure she wouldn’t forget him anytime soon.

Five days ago he’d experienced the fuck of his life and said
goodbye to the woman of his dreams. Five damn days. And he’d had a hell of a
time concentrating on much else ever since. At least he had the chance to call
her daily. He’d instructed her not to call his cell, because he never knew what
times he’d be stalking Rashand. Something as small and minor as a ring or a
buzz could cost him his life.

The voice communicator hooked to Timmons’ shoulder buzzed.
He lowered his face to the mouthpiece and depressed the button. “Timmons,” he
whispered.

“Delaney is emerging from the alley’s obscurity,” Sterns
grouched through the speaker. “I can see his shoulder. Tell him to move back
unless he’s chasing a death wish.”

Sergeant Timmons whacked Brent in the arm. “Hear that,
Delaney? Get your head out of your ass. Move any closer to that street and your
new residence might be a wooden casket.”

Yeah, common sense dictated he had a good chance of ending
up there anyhow. He backed up and glanced at the two-story structure across the
street. Every window offered a straight shot into the alley. Kissing bullets
wasn’t his idea of fun. “Are we sure he’s in there?”

“Of course not, but someone’s in there moving around.”

“Great.” Brent squatted low to the ground and pulled out his
binoculars. “Are we even sure it’s him who’s been spotted?”

“Absolutely. We have a file loaded with photos to back up
the claim.”

Brent looked through the night-vision lenses and focused on
the second-floor windows. The inside of the building remained pitch-black but a
faint glow of light from the street lamps dimly shined on the outside bricks.
The rays trailed off at the alley’s entrance where he and Timmons ducked in the
shadows.

“If it’s not the Sadist in there, someone else is going to
jail,” Timmons said, dropping down beside Brent. “There’s no reason to hang
around a dilapidated warehouse in the middle of the night unless it involves
drugs.”

“Hustling drug dealers wasn’t part of the bargain.”

Timmons cupped Brent’s shoulder. “Right, but sometimes
unexpected shit happens.” He gave Brent’s shoulder a squeeze. “Delaney, I’m
gonna make a cop out of you yet.”

“Don’t hold your breath.” Brent lowered the binocular view
to the first floor. A red speckle of light on the west side of the building
caught his eye. He zoomed in the lenses and scoped the area. A dark figure
stood leaning with its back to the bricks and foot propped against the wall.
“We’ve got activity on the western end. Why isn’t anyone covering that section?”
He raised the binoculars for a head shot and observed the distinct profile of a
man puffing on a smoke. “It’s not Rashand.” He handed the binoculars to
Timmons.

“It looks like Avery, our snitch. What the fuck!” Timmons
shifted the binoculars to the opposite end of the building. “Sterns told him to
stay out of this area tonight.”

Footsteps pounded the street in the distance. “What the
hell?” Timmons mumbled.

The footsteps quickly drew near, mimicking the sound of a
stampede. By the clumping of the thundering feet, at least fifteen or more
bodies were heading in their direction. Suddenly gunshots tore through the
area. A chain of bullets rebounded off the buildings, broke street lights into
bits and shattered windows. Glass shards flew through the air, crackling as
they toppled to the concrete.

“Ahhh, mother fuck!” blared through the darkness.

“Shit! Avery’s down,” Timmons yelled. “Get the fuck outta
here, Delaney! We’ve been set up.”

Timmons yanked the gun from his holster, grabbed Brent by
the arm and dragged him toward the end of the alley. A bullet whizzed by their
heads. It ricocheted off the metal dumpster with a ping. A sharp pain hit
Brent’s thigh, bringing him to his knees. “Fuck, I’ve been hit.” Warm blood
oozed through his pants and his entire leg went numb.

“Where?” Timmons yanked him to his feet and threw an arm
around his back.

“Left thigh.”

“We gotta get the hell outta here. You gonna make it?”

Brent started hopping toward the adjoining road that butted
into the back of the alley. “Yeah.”

Timmons tightened his grip. “Let’s go.”

When they made the turn onto the road, Timmons tucked Brent
in between two more dumpsters and squatted down. Dim lighting from the only two
working street lamps offered a faint glow. Vacant, rundown buildings lined the
road. A deserted apartment complex stood along the opposite side with half the
windows busted. A crooked white door dangled from an upper hinge. Yeah, it
definitely reminded him of something only seen in the movies.

“Put pressure on that wound,” Timmons said, his voice shaky.
“You’re losing a lot of blood.” He tore the neck strap from the binoculars and
tied it around Brent’s thigh above the bullet hole.

Brent couldn’t feel a damn thing. By the amount of blood
saturating his pant leg, the slug probably nicked an artery.

“We’ll get you outta here, don’t worry.” Timmons depressed
the button on his radio communicator. “Delaney is down,” he said in a low,
desperate tone. “Assistance needed.”

No response.

“Fuck! They probably can’t hear because of the gunfire.” He
depressed the button again. “I repeat, Delaney is down. Assistance needed in
southwest corner of Beidel Street.”

“Copy that,” Detective Sterns replied. “Help’s en route.”

“Make it quick.”

Loud footsteps pounded through the area, echoing off the
walls of the dilapidated structures. A glass bottle skidded across the gravel
street and shattered. Grunts and breathless voices dominated the darkness as
the thundering footsteps grew louder. Abruptly they stopped right around the
corner.

The click of a button resounded in their space and a bright
beam from a flashlight slithered into the area, settling on Timmons’ back. The
barrel of a gun was placed on the side of his head.

The trigger cocked. “Looks like you boys got yourselves into
some deep shit.” The menacing voice turned into a threatening string of
laughter.

A deafening blast shot through Brent’s ears. Something wet
and warm spattered his face and chest. Just then Timmons fell sideways and
toppled across his shins. A chunk of his skull was missing and bright-red blood
poured from a mangled section of Timmons’ head.

Fuck!

Not Timmons! Jesus Christ, he had a wife and three small
kids.

The motherfuckers!

If he had use of his leg…

Damn it. He’d kill every one of the lowlife bastards.

Rashand would pay. Whether these thugs worked for him or
not, he was going to pay. If it was the last thing Brent ever did, he’d
permanently remove the bastard from the fucking earth.

Clenching fists at his sides, he looked up into the barrel
of a .38.

* * * * *

Annalee paced the family room, rubbing the back of her neck.
Another damn winter storm wreaked havoc outside, and the house creaked now and
again from heavy winds blowing bare tree limbs against the aluminum siding.

She’d worn a layer of goose bumps during the past hour and
couldn’t warm up no matter what she’d tried. Had she known she’d be so cold,
she would’ve put a t-shirt on under her jogging clothes for added warmth after
she’d climbed out of the shower. Usually she wasn’t so cold. Maybe she was
getting sick, or maybe she’d just suffered a severe case of nervous jitters.

Something wasn’t right.

Not once today had she talked to Brent, and he’d gotten into
the habit of calling morning, noon and evening. What the hell?

She’d picked up her cell phone twenty times in the past three
hours and punched in the first six digits of his number, but never followed
through making the call. He’d specifically told her not to contact him because
of the dangers. Where in the heck was he?

She never expected the separation to be this hard. What had
happened to her? Since when did a case of
like
cause her to worry so
much? Had she known how desperately she’d miss him, she would’ve begged him
harder to stay. This was pure hell.

“Come on, Annalee, it’s been nearly a month, are you ever
going to take me back?”

She stopped by the television, raising her brows. Jared had
been so quiet she’d forgotten he came to pick up a few stray articles of
clothing and was sitting on the couch. “No, Jared, that is not going to
happen.” He couldn’t be serious.

“I told you, I don’t love Willow.”

“I know, it was the sex. I get it.” She glanced in the
kitchen at the digital microwave clock. It seemed like midnight rather than
8:45.

Why hadn’t Brent called?
Seriously, he didn’t owe her
anything but he wouldn’t leave her hanging. He just wouldn’t do that. Even if
he’d drifted out to sea on a new mission, he’d at least call to tell her
goodbye.

No, he would not avoid her on purpose. There had to be a
logical explanation. Unless—no, she refused to go there. The thought alone brought
tears to her eyes.

“We could be getting married in seven months,” Jared said,
breaking into her thoughts. “Are you involved with the big guy I saw at the
party?”

I wish.
How could she answer that? They’d lit each
other’s fire and shared fabulous sex, but to consider them involved was a
little premature. “You don’t know how badly you hurt me. I’ll never, ever
forget it.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“That’s because it’s none of your business.”

“I can forgive you if you can. Love heals all wounds.”

Was he friggin’ kidding? “Only if it’s strong enough.” And
in her case it wasn’t. Honestly, she couldn’t say whether or not she ever truly
loved him. The feelings she once had were no comparison to how she felt about
Brent. That’s not saying she loved him either, but they shared something
special. Something so strong it drew them back together after a lengthy
separation.

Did she feel safe with Brent?
Yes.
Did she hate being
apart from him?
Absolutely.
Did she miss the absence of his arms holding
her tight?
So much it hurt.
Had she ever felt that way with Jared?
Not
as deeply
.

“You can’t fall out of love that fast, Annalee. You’re
letting anger control your feelings.”

It
was
possible, which might be the reason she’d
gotten over him so easily. Well, it wasn’t easy, but it happened over a shorter
period of time than expected. Brent wouldn’t have been able to manipulate her
emotions as quickly if she’d been in love with Jared. “I don’t know how to tell
you this, but,” she removed her hand from her neck and sat down on the chair,
“since you fucked my best friend, I’ll never take you back. What you’ve done is
unforgivable.”

“We’re past that now,” he said, standing and taking a step
toward the chair.

He’d definitely dipped into la-la land. “Oh so now I’m
suddenly good enough for you? What happened? The whip break?”

“Quit talking shit.”

“I think it’s time you grab your things and go. Your clothes
are stacked on the kitchen counter.” She stood and headed toward her bedroom.
“Lock the door on your way out,” she blurted over her shoulder. But she hadn’t
made it as far as the hallway when he grabbed her by the arm and spun her
around.

“What’s your problem, Annalee? Why can’t I get through to
you?”

She knocked his hand away. He gripped her shoulders,
squeezing so hard she winced. “Let go of me, Jared.”

“Not until you’re ready to talk sensibly.”

“There’s nothing to say.”

“Let’s start a new beginning.”

She closed her eyes and then slowly reopened them. He looked
desperate and ready to cry. “No. It’s over.”

“I swear I’ll never hurt you again.”

“Jared, I’m sorry. Please, just go.”

He dug his fingers deeper, causing an ache that brought
tears to her eyes. She tried pushing his hands aside, but his grip intensified.
“Stop it, you’re hurting me.”

“Do you care how much I’m hurting?” He squeezed, nearly
bringing her to her knees. “No, Annalee, you don’t give a shit about anyone but
yourself. You’re a selfish bitch.”