When they get into Bettie’s rental car and she starts it up, I move back into the house and hold the door open for Leo. He’s wearing his usual non-work uniform of jeans and a t-shirt and just like every time I see him, my heart flutters in my chest and I want to get down on my knees and thank his parents for passing down those excellent genes. You know, after all those awkward teenage years.
“I’m glad you messaged me. I was going to stop by tonight anyway if I didn’t hear from you,” Leo tells me when I close the door behind him and lean my back against it.
“In the spirit of full disclosure, I should probably let you know I didn’t send the text, Bettie did. And she was drunk. She drinks a lot. I think she might have a problem and need an intervention,” I ramble nervously.
Leo moves to stand in front of me, leaning closer to press his palms against the door on either side of my head, caging me in. My heart thunders in my chest, and I’m suddenly thankful Bettie wouldn’t let me wear shoes. I would have toppled over and made a fool of myself by now.
“I think you were drunk and now you don’t want to admit you said I have a sweet ass,” he retorts, one corner of his mouth tipping up in a smile as he looks down at me.
“I have no problem saying that,” I scoff, rolling my eyes and laughing uncomfortably.
“So you DO think I have a sweet ass.”
He’s giving me the full power of his smile now, and all I can do is stare at his lips while the smell of his woodsy cologne surrounds me and makes my knees weak.
“You’re annoying,” I whisper, tipping my head back to look up at his eyes.
He brings the lower half of his body forward until its pressed right up against me, and with his arms still pinning me in against the door, I wouldn’t be able to move away if I wanted to.
“And you’ve been avoiding me. Again. We need to talk about what’s going on, Payton. If you know something about what happened with Jed, you need to tell me. I can’t let you keep going around town questioning people,” he speaks softly.
There’s no bite to his voice; it’s just calm and sweet and it doesn’t raise my hackles when he tells me he can’t let me do something, like it normally would. Without overthinking it, I grab the front of his shirt, push up on my toes, and pull his mouth down to mine. He immediately takes charge, slipping his tongue past my lips and I moan softly into his mouth when his tongue moves against mine.
His hands slide down the door next to my body and then he wraps his arms around me, pulling me up and against him as he deepens the kiss. The way he works his mouth against mine is magical and perfection, and it makes me forget the world around me. I lift one of my legs and wrap it around his thigh, drawing his hips closer to mine as I slide my hands up his chest and twine my arms around his neck.
Leo keeps an anchoring hold on my body with one arm, pulling his other hand forward around my waist. I gasp into his mouth when he moves his palm upward and it glides over my ribcage, so close to my breasts that they start to tingle and ache to feel his hands on them. He keeps moving his hand up, pausing with it right over my heart, then continues up across my neck until he’s holding my cheek in his palm, keeping my head in place while he tortures me with his kiss. I match each swipe of his tongue through my mouth, throwing all my nerves out the window as I kiss him back until it’s his turn to groan in pleasure.
Suddenly, he jerks his mouth away from mine and a quiet whimper of need and frustration escapes me. His hand is still holding my face as he looks down at me, both of us panting like we just ran a marathon.
“Question. Are you trying to distract me with sex?” he asks in between breaths.
I wait for the guilt to overwhelm me as I look up at him, but it never comes, because I realize I don’t want to use him for sex. I don’t care about distracting him or keeping him busy, I just really, really want to have sex with him. Because of him and how he makes me feel, not to avoid possible jail time. But I don’t need to tell him that. No need for me to give him the upper hand too soon.
“I don’t know, is it working?” I ask in a breathy voice I don’t recognize, nothing at all like the sarcastic one I imagined using in my head.
Leo brings his head back down and teases me, the feel of his lips like a breath of air as he just barely touches them against mine and moves them ever so slowly back and forth, until I’m so out of my mind with wanting him to kiss me again that I almost scream.
“I don’t know,” he whispers. “Are you going to get a case of the giggles again when I touch your ass?”
I smile against his mouth and remove one of my arms from around his neck, reach behind me and grab onto the hand of his arm that’s wrapped around my waist. I tug it down and smack it against my ass, keeping my hand over top of his to hold it in place.
Taking my other arm off his shoulder, I reach up to his hand that’s still holding my cheek, place mine over top of his again and slide it down my neck and collarbone until he’s cupping my breast in his palm. Leo lets out a groan and presses his forehead against mine.
“Ass, check. Boobs, check. All systems go with no signs of giggling in the near future,” I reassure him softly, arching my back and pushing myself harder into the palm of his hand when he starts swiping the pad of his thumb over my nipple.
He moves his head back to look down at me once again and I wonder if he can hear how loudly my heart is beating against my chest. I wonder if he knows that no one has ever lit my body on fire the way he does and how no one has ever made me want something so badly that my body literally aches with it.
“Remember that comment I made the other day when I first kissed you, about ruining you for any other man that comes after me?” Leo asks, his hand moving out from under mine against my ass to slide down my thigh, and then come right back up under my skirt until he’s palming my cheek with his bare hand.
I nod, unable to speak when he’s squeezing and rubbing my naked ass and his thumb is still sliding back and forth over my nipple, driving me crazy even through a thin layer of cotton and the lace of my bra.
“Don’t forget the words I said, because I wasn’t fucking kidding,” he growls, slamming his mouth against mine.
CHAPTER 26
Recorded Interview
June 5, 2016
Bald Knob, KY Police Department
Deputy Lloyd: I don’t feel comfortable doing this.
Sheriff Hudson: Too bad. I already typed up my official statement, but you still need to interview me and make sure nothing gets screwed up with this investigation. We don’t need a lawsuit on our hands on top of everything else.
Deputy Lloyd: Fine. Well, I had Franny make another copy of the questions the County Commissioner’s office faxed over since it came through kind of dark, so we should be able to wrap this up pretty quickly. First question, in your written statement, you stated you had an altercation with Mayor Jackson on the night he died. Is that true?
Sheriff Hudson: Yes. We were outside Pickerson’s Bar after I escorted him from the Jackson’s property, where I witnessed him assaulting Payton Lambert. I was angry and it was unprofessional, but I punched him in the face and told him if he ever went near Payton or Emma Jo again, I’d make sure he spent the rest of his life in prison. We parted ways, I went back to the Jackson’s residence to keep an eye on the house, and I didn’t see Jed Jackson again until his body was discovered the next morning.
Deputy Lloyd: You were in your department-issued vehicle the entire night?
Sheriff Hudson: I got out a few times to take a piss, but other than that, yes. I was in my vehicle the entire night until I left at seven the next morning to get coffee.
Deputy Lloyd: Is it true you… Oh, my God. What the hell?
*Cursing, shuffling papers*
Sheriff Hudson: Just ask the question, Buddy.
Deputy Lloyd: I… shit! I can’t ask you these. I just…what the hell?
*Shuffling papers, more cursing*
Sheriff Hudson: Buddy, just ask the questions! Jesus…
/>
Deputy Lloyd: Fine! Is it true you knocked up Payton Lambert and you’ve already applied for conjugal visits when she goes to prison?
Sheriff Hudson: Are you kidding me right now?
Deputy Lloyd: That’s what it says right here! I’m just asking the questions on the paper.
Sheriff Hudson: No comment. Next question.
Deputy Lloyd: Is it true you were going to ask Chrissy Lou out on a date before that home-wrecker came back to town and ruined everything? Oh shit…
Sheriff Hudson: There’s no way that’s a question from the County Commissioner’s office.
Deputy Lloyd: It’s right here on their official letterhead!
Sheriff Hudson: Give me that thing…
*Shuffling papers, cursing*
Buddy, you need glasses. This isn’t the County Commissioner’s Letterhead. It says “County Gossip by Franny”
*Shuffling papers*
Deputy Lloyd: Shit. Maybe I shouldn’t ask the rest of them then, huh? Although, I’d really like to know the answer to question 27B – Is it true you’ve been in love with Payton Lambert since high school?
Sheriff Hudson: This interview is officially over.
CHAPTER 27
Men are like coffee. The best ones are hot, rich and can keep you up all night long.
—Coffee Mug
“Keep your arms above your head and don’t move,” Leo orders as he kisses his way down my naked body in the spare bedroom.
After his reminder about ruining me downstairs in the hallway, Leo got to work pretty quickly on making that statement a reality. Clothes were shed and strewn all through Emma Jo’s house as we kissed our way to the stairs, and then he scooped me up into his arms and carried me up here, tossing me down on the bed in the dark room and covering my body with his huge, hot, muscular one.
My hands wrap around the spindles on the headboard above me, gripping them so tightly that I hear them creak, and silently promise Emma Jo I’ll buy her a new headboard if I happen to rip a few of these things out.
With the light of a full moon shining through the bedroom window, I can perfectly see Leo as he moves down my body, kissing every inch of my skin as he makes his way between my thighs. He glances up at me from under his long lashes after each kiss and the hungry look in his eyes skyrockets my desire until I can feel the wetness pooling between my legs, an inch away from where is mouth currently hovers.
“Hold on tight, Payton,” he whispers, his warm breath puffing against my sex.
I barely have time to do what he says when the sound of a spindle cracking in my hands echoes around the room as soon as I feel his mouth on me.
“Holy shit…” I moan loudly, my back arching and my thighs dropping open wider when he immediately goes to town on me, licking, sucking, and swirling his tongue in just the right spot.
His fingers join his mouth between my legs, pumping in and out of me in sync with the flicking of his tongue. Leo instinctively knows how to touch me, where to touch me, and how fast or slow I need him to move that glorious mouth between my legs, like he’s been going down on me all of his life. Or he studied oral sex in college. Got a master’s degree in Pleasuring Payton. Graduated top of his class with a Diddling Doctorate. His expert lips and tongue and fingers and the sight of his head between my thighs when I manage to lift my head and look down at him is so damn hot, that the slow tingling build of my orgasm quickly switches gears into an explosion of epic proportions.
The wooden spindle in my right hand finally gives up the fight, breaking in half with a loud crack when my release rushes through me with the speed of a freight train. Leo moans his approval, the sound vibrating against my sex as my head flops back down to the bed and I shout his name while he continues to lick and suck every last drop of my release from my body.
Before I can catch my breath, and without any time to recover from the current ringing in my ears and the pulsing ache between my legs, Leo crawls back up my body, grabs the broken spindle from my clutched fist and tosses it across the room.
“That was a good start. This time, I want to hear you scream my name,” he tells me, settling his hard body between my thighs while he laces his fingers through mine and pins my arms to the bed above my head.
I open my mouth to demand he stop ordering me around and try to get back some sort of upper hand since I feel boneless and unable to form a coherent thought, but the only sound that comes out of me is a loud moan when he slams his lips to mine and thrusts himself inside of me at the same time. He’s big and he’s hard, and even with my recent orgasm, it’s a tight fit and it takes a few pushes and pulls before he finally gets all the way in, and then, I give up any idea of trying to get the upper hand with Leo. He can have it all he wants if it feels this good.
His tongue battles mine, he moves his hips slow, he pushes in deep, and I’m so lost in the pleasure of having him inside me and feeling the weight of his body on top of mine that I don’t care about anything else. Just like when his mouth was between my legs a few moments ago, he moves in and out of me with the perfect rhythm and hits the perfect spot with each slam of his hips until I’m clutching so tightly to his fingers that still hold my arms above my head that now I’m afraid I might break one of those things off, just like I did with the spindle of the headboard.
He keeps kissing me, his tongue swirling deeper the faster he moves between my legs, and I let out a shocked gasp into his mouth when another rushing wave of an orgasm explodes out of me without any warning. No tingling in my toes, no slow traveling up my legs, or quivering in my belly, it hits hard and fast and my body rockets off the bed as I push my hips up to meet Leo’s. My sex pulsates and squeezes around him and he rips his mouth from mine so I can follow his orders, screaming his name until my voice gets hoarse.
Leo finally releases my hands as I move the lower half of my body faster and harder against him, wanting nothing more than to feel and hear him reach his own release. He slides his arms under my body and wraps them around me, holding me tightly against him as he buries his face in the side of my neck, drilling himself inside me so hard and fast that he inches us up the bed with each powerful thrust. My hands smack against his back, my fingernails dig into his skin, and I wrap my thighs around his hips and hold on tight until he slams against me one last time, holds himself deep, cursing and moaning my name against the side of my neck as he comes.
Aaaaaand it’s official. I’m ruined.
For all other men, women, and most definitely vibrators.
* * *
“This is amazing. What’s it called again?” Leo asks, digging his fork back into the pile on his plate and shoveling in a mouthful.
“It’s called slop. I know, not a very appetizing name for breakfast food, but my mom used to always make it and I haven’t had it since I moved away. Sounded like a good idea when I woke up,” I shrug as I drink my coffee and watch him finish off his second plate.
Slop was a staple in our house growing up and my mom made it every Sunday morning before church. It’s basically scrambled eggs, cheese, bacon, sausage and hash browns, all cooked together in a pan and “slopped” onto your plate. After I moved away, I was too busy with school and opening Liquid Crack to have time for anything more than take-out, and then when I met Benjamin, he was a health food nut and dragged me down into that pit of hell with him, making me feel guilty any time I so much as looked at a pizza delivery menu or walked by a McDonalds. I didn’t realize until I woke up starving this morning just how much I missed greasy, unhealthy food that clogs your arteries and lowers your life expectancy.
Damn, it’s good to be home.
“It’s fucking amazing, Payton. Not the most delicious thing I’ve had in my mouth in the last twelve hours, but it’ll do,” he winks, causing a blush to spread out over my cheeks.
After the first two orgasms Leo gave me, something I’d only read about in books and assumed was a myth like unicorns and leprechauns with pots of gold, we passed out in a tangle of arms and legs
until a few hours later when he woke me up by sliding into me from behind and proving another myth true – it’s possible for a man to recover quickly and go all night long. Hence, waking up starving and feeling like I could eat a horse. Or two dozen eggs, a slab of bacon, pound of sausage, bag of fried and buttery hash browns, and enough cheese to feed a small country.
I also woke up with enough guilt for that same small country, realizing before the first time we had sex and through all four times after, that I am not a woman who can sleep with a man and keep secrets from him. That fact was made clear when Leo woke me up an hour ago with his head between my legs again. I almost confessed to everything right then and there. Shit, when he kept teasing me with that tongue of his and holding off my orgasm until I thought I was going to black out, I almost confessed to killing Kennedy and knowing where Jimmy Hoffa’s body is buried.
I didn’t just make slop because I was hungry and knew Leo would like it, I did it to suck up to him in the hopes that a full stomach would make him a little less angry when I told him about the pie and how the rumors and interviews people were giving to the sheriff’s office weren’t necessarily false.
“Although I will say, I’d enjoy this home-cooked breakfast a little more if you were sitting across from me naked,” he says with a smile around another mouthful of food.
“That’s just what I need, for a neighbor to walk by and accuse me of breaking another law with public indecency. What I’m wearing is probably cutting it close anyway,” I state with a roll of my eyes, thankful I had enough brain activity this morning to at least throw on a pair of tiny black cotton shorts that I usually wear to work out in when I’m in Chicago and a matching black and hot pink Nike t-back tank top.
“Luckily, I’m the sheriff and can make up my own laws. Those shorts are hot and make your ass look amazing, but from now on, it’s illegal for you to wear clothes. Go grab my handcuffs from the car, you’re under arrest.”