Kristen Ashley - Law Man

“You won’t be in it with me?” I asked.

“This is gonna take a while.”

I stared at him. Then I whispered, “Is it safe?”

“It will be if I’m there. It won’t be if he goes in alone.”

“You’re sure it’s safe,” I pushed.

This time, he stared at me and his voice was gentle when he answered, “My job is not safe. Day to day my job could mean anything.”

Oh God!

“But,” he continued, “what we’re doin’ in the grand scheme of things is safe…ish.”

“That’s not a good answer, Mitch,” I whispered.

“It’s an honest one, Mara,” he returned quietly. “Now, baby, will you do me a favor and, even without me close, stay with me in the real world and crawl into my bed tonight so I know I got somethin’ good to come home to when I’m done with this shit?”

“Yes,” my mouth said before my head caught up.

He grinned at me. Then his hand came to my jaw, tipped my head back and he touched his mouth to mine.

When he lifted his head half an inch, he muttered, “Brilliant. Now I know I can pull the dangerous job card to get you to be sweet.” My eyes narrowed. “Finally,” he whispered against my lips as both his arms closed around me, “I’ve found a good use for it.”

Then he touched his mouth to mine again, this time longer, his mouth wasn’t closed, neither was mine and there was liberal tongue action.

Now that was brilliant.

When he broke the kiss and walked me back to North, I didn’t share with him that he didn’t have to use his job or freak me out enough to get what he wanted. All he had to do was kiss me and I’d be putty in his hands.

Not even that, all he had to do was call me baby.

* * *

Mitch took me home and kissed me at his door, not long and lingeringly, which I had to admit sucked. Then he told me not to worry if I woke up in the morning and he still wasn’t there. Whatever this was, it was going to take time, apparently.

Then he disappeared.

I washed my face and moisturized and got into my nightie and his flannel. Then I lit his candles. Then I put one of my chill out lists on his stereo.

Then I did something I hadn’t had time to do with any attention.

I inspected his house.

You could learn a lot just from music and if his music was garbage that would be an instant dealbreaker.

It was then I snooped without hesitation. He pushed this deal so I was going to find out what I got myself into.

I already knew his sister had good taste and his apartment looked like a show home but comfier and more lived in. I’d learned the day I cleaned it but also living there for a few days that Mitch wasn’t exactly tidy but he wasn’t a slob. Opened and unopened mail on a variety of surfaces (this I had organized). Sports jackets thrown over his very cool dining room chairs (these I had hung up). Sports magazines here and there, many of which should long since have been thrown away (these I’d stacked).

It was then I found he had great taste in music, excellent actually, more eclectic than mine and he invested heavily in CDs which was almost unheard of these days with MP3 but it was something I liked. He also had great taste in movies as evidenced by his DVD collection, heavy on the action with a good intermingling of thrillers. We were a half and half with the same taste in books. He read thrillers, as did I, but he also read true crime, which I did not.

I moved to the kitchen and noted what I’d previously noted. He drank American beer in bottles. I also noted he clearly cooked and when he did, he cooked more than chili. It wasn’t like he had a larder readily stocked just in case he was in the mood to whip up a cake. But he had spices that would indicate his culinary arsenal included more than chili and staples that evidenced that arsenal was a lot more than chili.

His medicine cabinet in the bathroom confirmed what I knew, that he didn’t use product in his hair. It also gave me the added and weirdly interesting fact that he was an ibuprofen person, just like me. No aspirin or acetaminophen to be found, again, just like me (if you didn’t count the recent addition of children’s Tylenol).

I stopped snooping, started listening to music, stopped listening to music then, yet again, I crawled into Mitch’s bed.

His bed was awesome but he really needed a mattress from Pierson’s. His mattress didn’t suck but it was nowhere near a Spring Deluxe. It wasn’t even in the same range as a Slumber Excelsior.

I decided to focus on advising Mitch on back health and the importance of having the proper mattress rather than the fact that I was again in Detective Mitch Lawson’s very cool apartment. I was again going to sleep by climbing into Detective Mitch Lawson’s very cool bed. But this time after the scary but undeniable fact that we’d had our first official date during which I had a feeling I agreed to be his girlfriend.

And throughout all this, I did not once slip out of the real world where Mitch lived and back into Mara World and mostly this was because I was concentrating on trying to keep at bay worried thoughts of Mitch out there providing backup on something that was safe…ish.

Then I fell asleep.

* * *

And now it was now. I was alone, as in no kids, in Mitch’s apartment, in Mitch’s bed with Mitch as, apparently, sometime during the night he’d come home (safe and sound, thank God) and got in bed with me.

Oh boy.

Then I decided, since he worked late, he needed his beauty rest so I was going to slip out quietly and let him have it.

Carefully, I started to move and got nary an inch before his arm around my belly got tight. I went back two inches, hit his warm, solid body and I felt his face burrow in my hair.

“Where you goin’?” he mumbled sleepily.

“I thought I’d get up but let you rest,” I offered thoughtfully.

“Unh-unh,” he growled decisively.

Oh boy!

“Back health is very important.”

Yes, this was what came out of my mouth after Mitch denied my exit from his bed.

His arm got tighter and he murmured, “What?”

“Lumbar support in mattresses, your mattress is very comfortable but you need more lumbar support. You have an active lifestyle but everyone needs to take care of their back.”

Mitch was silent. Then I felt his body start shaking. Then I felt my body moving and that was because Mitch was turning it to face him. Then I was facing him. Then I was feeling his arms around me and his hands moving on me over my nightie but I was too busy staring at his handsome face, his smiling lips and his somewhat sleepy and way more than somewhat hot eyes to pay attention to his hands.

“You gonna set me up with a good mattress, baby?” he asked, his voice still slightly growly with sleep and way hot. So hot I felt it seven places and those would be my scalp tingling, my breasts swelling, my chest getting warm, between my legs getting wet and all my toes on both feet curling.

“Uh…” I mumbled, he grinned and rolled so he was mostly on top of me. That was when I whispered, “Mitch.”

And that was when his lips hit mine, his eyes held mine and he whispered, “Let’s see if I can tear that cocoon wide open and let my Mara fly.”

Then his head slanted and he kissed me.

His kiss was not sleepy. It was sweet, warm, gentle and wet. Then it got sweeter, warmer and wetter but not gentler. I realized my hands were on his sleek, warm skin and his sleek, warm skin felt really freaking good and my hands wanted to explore. So I let them. Then I realized his hands over my nightie were exploring too and I liked it, a lot. About this time his kiss got even sweeter, even warmer, a whole lot wetter and way deeper and I liked that even better. So much, I kissed him back the same way.

Then his hand glided up my side, in and over my breast and, immediately, his thumb swept hard against my tight nipple and I liked that most of all. So much, my body arched and I planted a foot in the bed, rolling Mitch but going with him. Once I had him on his back with his long, powerful body under mine I suddenly found I needed to discover to its fullest extent his sleek skin and hard muscle and to do this, my discovery needed to be multi-sensory.

So my hands moved on his chest, his ribs, his belly, his sides as my lips moved to his stubble-rough jaw, his neck, his throat, across his collarbone and down. Then my lips, tongue and hands moved everywhere, touching, sweeping, tasting. I added teeth and there was nipping and it was not only hot, it was beautiful. Everywhere I touched, tasted, nipped, how his muscles would jump. The way his arm around my shoulders would tighten. The short growl that would surge up his throat. The way the fingers of his other hand glided into the hair at one side of my head to cup it at the back. I loved it, all if it, every inch, every reaction, everything.

Then I went down, tracing the contours of his abs with my tongue as the fingers of one hand slid up his side, the other one went to the drawstring of his pajama bottoms. I tugged. He growled again, his fingers flexing against my head and that gorgeous sound shot straight between my legs. My lips swept to the side then down and I trailed my tongue along the line of muscle that curved inward from his hip down to his groin. Suddenly his hand in my hair was gone, both of his hands were in my armpits and he was hauling me up his body.

Then he was kissing me, his arm tight around me, his other hand fisted in my hair. He knifed to sitting without our mouths disengaging, our tongues tangled and my knees were forced to slide up so I was straddling him. When I settled, I felt his cock hard beneath me and in that instant, I knew I needed it. Needed it.

I needed Mitch.

My mouth broke from his as my arm around him squeezed tight, my hips ground down, rubbing myself against him and my neck arched back.

Mitch’s hands went into my nightie, up, swoosh, and it was gone. He tossed it aside and didn’t delay with wrapping one arm tight around my waist, the other hand going to my breast, lifting it. My head tipped down and I watched him guide it to his mouth then his lips closed around my nipple and he sucked hard.

My hips bucked in his lap and he growled against my nipple which felt so good, God, so damned good, I whimpered, both my hands slid into his hair and I watched Mitch work my nipple, my hips rolling. Yes, God, yes, watching the beauty that was his face, feeling what his mouth was doing, I needed him.

“Honey,” I called, my voice trembling but he didn’t respond.

His hand left my breast and that arm wrapped around my waist as his other hand went to my other breast and he repeated what he did to the first while I again watched.

My hips bucked again as the suction came then they bucked again with an added low, desperate moan that tore from my throat as his tongue circled.

“Mitch,” I tried again, my voice throaty. “Honey,” I called, my fingers fisting in his hair and his head tipped back, his eyes searing me with the fire burning in them and my mouth went instantly to his, not to kiss him, to whisper, “I need you, honey.”

I watched up close as his eyes flashed in a seriously, seriously hot way and both his arms wrapped tight around me.

“You sayin’ you’re ready, baby?” he whispered against my lips, his voice gruff and so, so beautiful.

“Yes,” I breathed.

“Sure?”

God, God, he was such a good guy.

My arms circled his shoulders tight and my hips rolled again in his lap and my breathy, “Yes,” was sharper, impatient, more demanding.

And obviously convincing.

He heard it. I knew it because I was suddenly on my back and Mitch’s torso was heavy on mine, his long arm stretched out to the nightstand.

I slid my leg out from between his hips, his head jerked down to look at me but I just lifted my knees as I hooked my thumbs in my panties and tugged them up my thighs. That was when his head jerked down to my legs then it went back to the nightstand. I freed my panties from my ankles, tossed them aside and barely let them loose before Mitch moved fully over me at the same time rolling his hips as a demand for me to open my legs.

I did and his hips fell through.

Okay, God, God.

Damn but he felt good there.