Kristen Ashley - Law Man

“I don’t think –”

He interrupted again, “Somethin’ happened to you and whatever that was, you’ll tell me at your time, at your pace. I pulled your Mom and aunt’s sheets and, Mara, seeing your cousin, your mother and your aunt, knowin’ about them, I’m not turned off by it, honey. Knowin’ that was how you grew up and seein’ you now, miles away from that shit, having left that life behind, which isn’t an easy thing to do, only makes me more into you when I was already really fuckin’ into you.”

I stared into his dark brown eyes so close to mine and couldn’t stop from blurting, “What you’re saying does not fit in Mara World.”

It was a stupid thing to do, stupid and revealing and I knew this when one of his eyebrows twitched in surprise before both of his eyes lit with humor and his body shook with it.

Okay, so I sounded like a dork but I was a dork and he really needed to get this for his own good and what he needed to get was not only the fact I was a dork but all of it.

So I kept talking. “It’s against all the laws of nature.”

His body started shaking more, his hand slid from my jaw to my neck and curled around, he bit his lip and I knew just looking at him it was to stop himself from roaring with laughter.

So I whispered, “I’m not being funny.”

Suddenly, the amusement swept from his features, he slowly closed his eyes and dropped his head so his forehead was resting lightly on mine just as his fingers at my neck gave me a gentle squeeze.

Then he opened his eyes, looked deep into mine and he whispered back, “I know but, baby, today, you told me you were with me. And I’m askin’ you now to stick with me and, if you do, I promise, I fuckin’ swear, I’ll guide you to a place where you get that what you just said was fuckin’ hilarious.”

I just knew he’d figured out how weighty my words were earlier.

“Mitch –” I started but he lifted his head away an inch and shook it.

“Mara’s World is fucked up and twisted and my guess, that mother of yours and probably that aunt had somethin’ to do with that. In the real world, the world everyone lives in, including you, honey, you and me make a whole fuckuva lot of sense.”

That whoosh swept through my belly even as I pressed lightly against his chest and said quietly, “I don’t think so and…and…I don’t want you to be disappointed when you figure it out.”

I watched his eyes close slowly again then they opened and I caught my breath at what I saw in their fathomless depths.

Way before I recovered (not that I could recover), Mitch’s head descended but it veered to my right.

Then I felt his teeth nip my earlobe then his tongue touched it then he reminded me on a whisper, “Today, you yourself said I was your Mitch.”

Oh God, I forgot he heard that.

“Am I your Mitch?” he went on.

I started breathing faster, my chest so warm it was hot, my fingers clenched in his shirt and I didn’t know if it was to hold him to me or push him away.

“Am I your Mitch, baby?” he pressed.

I couldn’t talk about this. I couldn’t explain to him why I defended him. How I said he was my Mitch because I didn’t know what to say, how to describe who he was to me because I couldn’t describe who he was to me because I didn’t know who he was to me but I couldn’t allow them to insult him.

I had to move us on.

And that was why I told him, “The candles smell really good,” awkwardly changing the subject and deciding my hands clenched in his shirt were to push him away which I tried to do but he didn’t budge an inch.

It was then I heard the song change to Paul McCartney’s “My Love”.

Oh God!

I loved this song! It was a great song, a sweet song, a beautiful song.

His nose tweaked my earlobe then his lips slid down my neck as his hand at the other side slid over my shoulder then in over my chest then out and down my side.

While he did this, I shivered.

“If I’m your Mitch, you’re my Mara,” he whispered against my skin, his words making me shiver again because I liked that idea, a whole lot. Then I felt his tongue glide along my throat as his hand glided back up my side and I shivered yet again.

Okay, it was safe to say I was losing control of the conversation (not that I ever had control of the conversation) and my body and I had to do something about it.

So, somewhat desperately and not-so-somewhat breathily, I noted, “The scent is really nice and you can tell those candles are good ones. They obviously didn’t skimp with the oils.”

His lips moved on my throat and I knew it was because he smiled then his tongue slid up the other side of my neck to my ear where he kept whispering. “My Mara likes candles so when the kids and I were at Target pickin’ up food, Billie picked those candles for you.”

He noticed I liked candles.

Oh God.

That was so nice.

His thumb started stroking my side just under the swell of my breast.

Oh God!

That felt super nice.

I unclenched my hands and pressed lightly on his chest as I turned my head and whispered, “Mitch –”

But when I did, his head turned too, his lips captured mine and he kissed me.

He did not go all out. It was gentle. It was sweet. Probing, unhurried and soft. There were tongues but it was nice, not invasive, giving a lot but taking nothing and my fingers clenched in his shirt again this time definitely to hold him to me.

Mitch broke the kiss and whispered against my lips, “Love that mouth of yours, sweetheart,” and I couldn’t help it, I shivered again.

He moved slightly away and held my eyes as his hands went to my wrists at his chest. He moved them around him and down, not releasing them but still managing to pull his shirt out of his jeans and shove my hands up under so they encountered the hot, sleek skin and hard muscle of his back.

He felt so unbelievably good I involuntarily made a noise in the back of my throat.

Then I watched his eyes get darker. I liked the way they got darker then his head descended and his lips captured mine again in another kiss. This one still sweet, unhurried, gentle but not probing, giving a lot but now taking a little, coaxing me to give and I wanted to give to Mitch so I did. He’d added his hands moving on me the same way. Unhurried, gentle, discovering and my body melted under his and my fingers explored the contours of his back and I liked what I felt so much, my hands shoved up higher so I could explore more.

Then he broke the kiss again but this time his lips glided across my cheek, along my jaw. He added his tongue when they swept down my throat then back up then he added his teeth again, nipping my earlobe and then he worked the skin behind my ear with his tongue. All slow, leisurely, taking his time as my hands moved on his back, my body yielded more under his and my breath came faster and faster against the skin of his neck.

Then his hand moved over my ribcage, up and I held my breath as his head came up and his lips caught mine, his tongue sliding inside as his fingers curled over my breast.

I liked the feel of Mitch’s warm hand at my breast so much my back arched slightly and a small moan glided up my throat and into his mouth.

His thumb swept over my nipple and I liked that a whole lot more so my back arched hard and a long, deep moan glided up my throat and into his mouth.

That was when leisurely and gentle got lost. As my moan slid into his mouth, Mitch slanted his head and deepened the kiss. It was harder, demanding and God, so, so good.

I pulled one of my hands out of his shirt so I could move it up his back, his neck and into his soft, thick hair and hold him to me and I did this because I didn’t ever want him to stop kissing me.

Not ever.

His finger met his thumb at my rock-hard nipple and rolled it over my blouse and, God, God, that felt so damned good I whimpered against his tongue, my hips surged up coming into deep contact with the hardness of his and all was lost.

He shifted so his body was more on top of me as his other hand went down my side and yanked up my skirt even as his knee came up between my legs, forcing them open but he didn’t have to. I was already curving one leg around his thigh.

“Jesus, so sweet. So fucking, fucking sweet,” he muttered against my lips, his voice deeper, gruff and I felt the change in his tone rocket straight between my legs.

“Mitch,” I whispered, lifting my head as my hand in his hair pulled him down to me. I kissed him, hard, demanding, sliding my tongue in his mouth and this time I got his groan in mine in return.

That rocketed straight between my legs too.

Then his hand at my breast went to the buttons of my blouse. Swiftly and expertly he undid them as we kissed hot, wet and heavy. I pressed my body up into his and he ground his down into mine and I loved taking the weight of him, feeling the power of him.

Then suddenly he stopped undoing the buttons half down my ribcage, his fingers curled in, tugging it aside and I gasped into his mouth as my body twitched with excitement. Then the cup of my bra was drawn quickly aside and I lost his mouth on mine but his fingers curled under my breast, lifting it. Then his upper body angled down, his lips rounded my nipple and he sucked deep.

As in deep.

Oh God, God, God! That felt unbelievable.

So unbelievable, my back came off the couch, my head pressed into the cushion as my neck arched and the fingers of both my hands drove into his hair. All this as I moaned deep then whimpered as what he was doing with his mouth at my nipple shot a path of fire right between my legs.

Mitch suddenly lifted his head and twisted his neck so he was looking at the back of the couch.

I stared at him dazedly wondering why he was doing that and how I could get him to keep doing what he’d been doing a second ago when he muttered a harsh, low, “Fuck.”

Then suddenly his hands were moving quickly on me, pulling up my bra, drawing my blouse closed and yanking down my skirt.

Then his body suddenly shifted so it was fully over mine, covering it completely and his neck twisted the other way so he could look across the ottoman.

And it was then I heard a trembling, little girl voice penetrate my foreplay on the couch with Ten Point Five Detective Mitch Lawson addled daze saying, “Auntie Mara, I don’t feel too good.”

My head twisted around. I looked across the ottoman just in time to see Billie, standing at the opposite side of the couch, lean forward and vomit on Mitch’s living room carpet.

“Shit,” Mitch muttered, moved and moved me with him. Before I knew what was happening, I found myself standing on me feet by the couch.

I blinked and teetered then focused to see Mitch lift Billie in his arms and then he was striding swiftly through the living room toward the hall.

I skirted the ottoman and her sick then ran after them, doing the buttons on my shirt. By the time I made it to his master bath, the lights were on and Billie was getting sick in the toilet, Mitch crouched beside her, holding back her hair. His head turned and tipped back and his eyes hit mine.

“She’s burnin’ up,” he said softly.

I moved directly to the bathroom closet hoping that was where he kept his washcloths.

“How bad?”

“Don’t know. I don’t have a thermometer. You got one at your place?”

“No,” I answered, seeing he did keep his washcloths in the closet. I grabbed one, went to the sink and turned the tap on cold.

I heard more getting sick sounds and then Billie whined the obvious into the toilet, “I don’t feel good.”

I wrung out the cloth, cooing at her, “I know, baby. Get that sick out. I’ve got a cold cloth coming.”

I moved to Billie, Mitch shifted a bit out of the way still holding her hair while I leaned in and flushed the toilet. Then I folded the cloth and put it on her forehead as she coughed into the bowl.

Suddenly I heard Mitch saying, “Yeah, honey, sorry to call so late but Billie’s pukin’ and she’s burnin’ up. What do we do?”

My eyes went to him to see he was on the phone, his gaze on Billie’s back. I lifted a hand to stroke her there as more sick came out and I bit my lip as my heart clenched, feeling her little body working so hard to heave.