“It’s a tough one, isn’t it?” Pops asks, and I confirm. I don’t talk about my cases in front of my mom. She hates it. She loves that I help people but hates that I’m exposed to so much death on a daily basis.
“It’s never easy.” I’d worry if it was. “I’ve gotta run out for a bit. You good with Jesse until I’m back?”
“You know we are,” Mom trills.
The drive over to Laken’s is quick this late at night. As I’m climbing out of my truck, Lauren is already on the porch, leaning against the door frame while the rest of the house is dark. Recognizing a chance to speak with her, I blurt out, “I know you’re not who she says you are. Just tell me, is she safe; should I be watching for someone?” There’s a lot Laken says that I can see right through, and I don’t call her on the lies because it’s apparent that she’s hiding. I want her to trust me enough to tell me everything herself.
“For now, she is.” That’s not comforting.
“For now?” Lauren shrugs. Standing next to her, I stare into the shadowy house, a million things running through my mind. “You know I can help, right? I can keep her safe.”
“I don’t. Because I don’t know you, I don’t know your capabilities.”
“Why would you push her on that date with me then?” Lauren is a confusing woman.
Her shoulder lifts again. “I know Laken. I know she’s spent a long time living in her head, ruminating over things she can’t change while waiting for freedom. When she talks about you, when you walk into the café, she lights up in a way I’ve never seen from her before. You are the first man she hasn’t shied away from since I met her. And I recognize from your obsessiveness that there isn’t much that could scare you off.”
Nodding, I grab a card from my wallet and hand it to her. “That’s the police chief’s direct number; call him. Ask him about me. Then give me everything you can about her.”
Going inside, I head straight for Laken’s room at the back of the house. Opening and closing the door quietly, I kick off my shoes and shirt and climb into bed behind her. Immediately, I feel her stiffen. “Please don’t.” Her broken plea confirms what I’ve been trying not to think about because it’ll only piss me off.
Lacing our fingers together, I lick up the side of her neck and whisper, “It’s Hale, Laken; I’m not going to hurt you.” She relaxes marginally before turning over to face me.
“What are you doing here?” Tears already stain her face, and her voice catches as her body vibrates.
Brushing the hair back from her face, I wipe the droplets from her cheeks and eyes before answering. “It was a hard day, and I wanted to see you. To hold you. I wanted to know you were okay.”
Relief settles in her gaze. “You did?”
“I just needed a taste of my girl.”
Laken
A taste.
He licks me a lot.
I thought it was strange, initially. I thought he might be losing his mind. But from the first time his tongue touched my neck, I was a goner for it. For the way he made me feel so special.
When I felt the bed shift behind me as he crawled in, I woke up almost instantly, prepared to fight. To scream, scratch, and claw until I was free of whoever’s hold it was. Somehow, he knew, though, Hale knew precisely how to slow down my erratic heart. And it worked. I’ve never been calmed so quickly before, let alone by someone who is a near stranger. Hale and I hardly know one another, and it feels evident in almost all aspects until he does something like tonight.
“You lick a lot,” I point out when I feel his tongue pop out against my neck again.
“I didn’t know it was a fetish until I met you, but I’m fucking addicted to your taste, so get used to it.” I hear the seriousness in his voice mixed with a touch of delight, and I know he’s telling the truth.
“You aren’t like this with other women?” The darkness emboldens me to ask what I wouldn’t in the light of day.
I feel him take in a deep breath before he responds. “Nope. Never felt the desire to have another woman on my tongue.”
“Oh.” My breathy whisper is followed by his strong hands pulling me closer into his body. Feeling his naked chest against my nearly bare one, I feel faint. “I, uhm, I know I said…I said that I was new to this, but Hale”—I cup his face in my hands, bringing his head up so I can meet his stare in the ebony shading of the room—“I’m not a virgin, but I’m not experienced, and what I do know about sex is nothing but agony. I don’t see it in the same light as you do.”
His eyes soften with emotion, but the lust remains prominent, and as he rolls us over, sitting me up in his lap, the moonlight like a spotlight on us, I see him in this vulnerable state, and some of my worry fades away.
Brushing his hands up and down my sides, Hale doesn’t hold back. “I know. I read body language for a living, and without you saying a word, I can tell you’ve been hurt. Traumatized in a way that a man can never comprehend. I’m pushy, overbearing, ruthless, and completely fucking addicted to you, Laken. I will wait for you for as long as you need, but I’m not going to shy away from how you make me feel, and every fucking chance I get, I’m going to touch, kiss, lick, and bite you as often as you’ll allow me to.”
“It doesn’t bother you?” The cover of night is giving me the courage I was unaware I had, but I’m so grateful for. “That I’m broken?”
“Broken?” he scoffs. “I don’t know the particulars of your past; however, I can guess until you’re ready to share with me, but the woman I see, the woman sitting on top of me in nothing but an innocent pair of pink panties and strip of fabric across her beautiful tits, is not broken. She’s the strongest woman I know. She’s a survivor.”