LOVING HER SOUL MATE (4 page)

Relief flushed over her.
 
“Thanks,” she said again.

John stood up, his notebook in hand.
 
“He said he was a lawyer.
 
Is that true?”

“It’s true.
 
He practices out of Birmingham.”

“I see,” John said
,
his
eyes staring at her in that contemplative cop stare of his, as if he was
thinking long-term.
 
“Think he’ll pull
this stunt again?”

“Pull it again?
 
Ah, no.
 
He won’t have the
chance.”

“Yeah, they all claim that.
 
Until lover boy comes back, begging for
forgiveness.”

Shay didn’t respond.
 
She could show him better than she could tell
him because she never, not ever, gave second chances once she realized who she
was dealing with.
 

For some reason John had hoped she would dispute
his claim.
 
He was slightly disappointed
when she didn’t bother.
 
“Are you afraid
of your boyfriend, Shay?” he asked her.

“My ex-boyfriend and no, Captain, I’m not afraid of
Lonnie Resden in any way, shape, or form.”

He was inwardly pleased.
 
“Okay,” he said, nodding his head and looking
down at that tummy of hers again, remembering her tight, firm ass, imagining
just how toned and gorgeous the rest of her body probably was.
 
“I’ll get his statement and arrest him on an
assault warrant.
 
But I have to be honest
here.
 
It’s the prosecutor’s discretion
to file charges against him, and the chances of that happening are probably
remote.
  
More than likely the prosecutor
won’t bring charges at all and he’ll be released as a lesson learned.
 
But maybe getting arrested will make him
explain his intentions better the next time he has a woman in his bed.”
 

John looked for a reaction from Shay.
 
Did she still have feelings for the guy?
 
But her face didn’t reveal a thing.
 
“But I think he now understands that if he
hits you again,” John continued, “he may not be around to get a trip to the
hospital.”
 

Shay smiled that wonderful white smile John found
mesmerizing.
 
Then she stood up and
extended her hand.
 
“Thanks for your
help, Captain Malone.”

John shook her hand, and immediately a hollow
feeling washed over him.
 
It felt as if
he was saying goodbye to somebody near and dear to him, when nothing could be
further from the truth.
 

“Take care of
yourself
,
Shay,” he said.
 
Then he added: “As I’m
sure you will.”

They both laughed, and then he left.
 

He stepped off of her porch, got into his truck, and
looked once again at that little yellow house as she closed her front
door.
 
And then he exhaled.
 
Wow
, he thought.
 
What was that about
?
 
He’d never had that kind of connection to any
stranger before in his life.
  
For more
than a minute he even thought she might have belonged to him.
 
Which was ridiculous, he thought as he
cranked up.
 
He hadn’t been divorced a
month, had just gotten out of the pan, how in the heck could he even consider
jumping into some pot?
 
It was funny, was
what it was.

But he wasn’t laughing.
 
Because he had to have her.
 
He had to have her in the worse way.
 
He kept seeing that tight ass, kept inhaling
her wonderful scent, kept wanting his dick in her pussy so bad that it was a
physical need that felt like a gunshot wound.
 
He needed to take care of this.
 
He needed
her
to take care of him.

And without thinking about it, without attempting
to rationalize something this irrational, he got back out of his truck and
walked, in quiet desperation, back to her front door.

TWO

Shay leaned against the door a few moments longer
after John had left.
 
She had to compose
herself.
 
Because she couldn’t stop
wondering what in the world was that all about.
 
The way he held her, the way he made her feel, the way she felt a
connection to that man, to a
cop
of all people, was baffling the hell
out of her.
 
She was literally just hours
out of a major breakup, she wasn’t even technically on the rebound yet, and
already she was letting some man get a rise out of her?
 
She smiled and shook her head.
 
She didn’t like drama and this day had way too
much in every direction.
 
She therefore
left the door, went over to the shattered lamp, and began to pick up the
pieces.
 

When the doorbell rang, she froze.
 
It felt almost like a premonition.
 
As if she was expecting it all along.
 
As if she knew, even though she didn’t know a
damn thing.
 
She moved away from the area
of the lamp and walked over to her living room window.
 
When she saw that the big Chevy Silverado was
still on her driveway, her heart rammed against her chest.
 
Because somehow she
expected it.
 
But that didn’t make
it any easier.

She moved slowly toward the door.
 
And when she opened it, and saw that it was
indeed John Malone standing there, she didn’t say a word, and neither did
he.
 
She simply pushed open the screen
door, and let him back in.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey,” she said.
 

And then they just stood there.

John’s heart was pounding as he stood in her living
room.
 
And when she walked away and went
back to picking up the pieces of the broken lamp, as if she understood fully
why he had come back, he began moving around the room.
 
He picked up a book off of the coffee table
and glanced at the writing on its spine.
 
Stared briefly at an African print on her wall.
 
But it was all camouflage and he knew
it.
 
Because it was Shay Turner that he
wanted, and nothing less was going to do.
 

So he kept moving until he made his way to the
dining area where she was just reaching for the base of the lamp.
 
He stood behind her, and removed the base
from her hand, sitting it on the dining room table.
 
There was such a sense of inevitability about
this moment that it stumped them both.
 
And electrified them both.

John placed his hands on her small arms and began
to rub.
 
Shay closed her eyes and enjoyed
his masculine touch.
 
And when he sat
down in the chair at the head of the table, moving her body with him until she
was standing between his legs again, her ass in his face again, the
anticipation of what he was going to do to her suddenly had her aching for his
touch.
 

She turned and faced him.
 
“Why did you come back?” she asked.

“I came back to be with you, Shay,” he said.
 
“I want to see you, and feel you, and
be
with you.
 
If that’s okay with you?”

Shay was getting hot just from his presence alone,
and he was asking if it was okay with her?

“Is it, Shay?” he asked again.
 
“Is it okay,” he asked as he slowly began to
pull down her shorts and panties, “if I touch you?”

“It’s okay,” she said almost breathlessly as he
slowly turned her back around.
 
She felt
his fingers slink her clothes down and completely expose her ass.
 
Only this time he kept pulling until her
shorts and panties were all the way down to her ankles.

And he touched her.
 
Shay closed her eyes as soon as she felt his warm, opened hand cruise
across her un-bruised cheek.
 

“I knew you would be soft,” John said as he rubbed
her, lust in his eyes.
 
“I knew you would
have the texture of velvet when I touched you.”
 

Then he looked at her bruised cheek.
 
His jaw tightened once again at just the
thought of that asshole Resden beating on her without regard to her
delicacy.
 
He wanted to tell her how
sorry he was that something like this had to happen to her, but he felt
compelled to show her rather than tell her.
 
He therefore pulled her closer, and kissed her on her bruises.

Shay was at first startled when she felt the
wetness of his lips on her.
 
Because she
thought it would hurt.
 
She even moved to
turn around she was so startled, but he had her small body so enclosed in his
big arms that she couldn’t move at all.
 
And then, as he continued to kiss her, as she continued to feel the
impalement of his lips pressing into her, she didn’t want to move at all.
 
Because it felt comforting.
 
Because his heat was taking
the heat out of those bruises.
 
His power was removing the power of the pain.
 
She leaned into him.

He caressed her bruises with his tongue, licking
over each welt, slowly and gently and expertly.
 
His heart was pounding and his cock was throbbing.
 
He’d never done anything like this in his
life.
 
Hell yeah it was crazy.
 
Hell yeah it didn’t make sense on any
level!
 
He’d only just met this woman and
he was kissing her ass?
 
If anyone would
have told him when
 
he took the call and
came to this little yellow house on Bluestone Road that he’d be doing something
remotely resembling what he was doing now, he would have kicked their ass,
forget kissing it.

But he was kissing hers.
 
And licking hers.
 
And caressing every crevice
of her tight, round bottom.
 
He
couldn’t stop kissing her ass and licking her ass and caressing her.
 
Then he moved down, to the top back of her
thighs, licking and kissing and caressing her there.
 

“Open your legs,” he told her.
 
And Shay was so caught up in the passion of the
moment, so in need of this kind of affection, that she did as he
commanded.
 
She opened her legs.

“Lean on the table, baby,” he said to her as he got
down on his knees.
 
“I’m going to taste
your pussy.”

Shay felt the steam of his words to the roots of her
hair.
 
And when she leaned over and felt
his tongue lick between her legs, her breath caught.
 
And when he parted her cheeks and began to
eat her, she felt her pussy jump.

“You taste so good,” John said as he ate her.
 
“I knew you would make me want to mouth-fuck
you for hours.”

And as his mouth did its work, his fingers began to
join in.
 
First one and then another one
slid into her folds to feel the moisture that was now all over her.
  
Shay kept bucking as he licked her and
kissed her and fingered her.
 
Her insides
felt as if they were inflamed.
 
She felt
as if she could have an orgasm from his fingers and his tongue alone.
 
What was happening to her?
 
She never planned for anything like this to
happen!
 
She’d never, not ever allowed
some guy she’d just met to so much as touch her.
 
Why in the world was she allowing this man to
bend her over her own dining room table and mouth and finger fuck the shit out
of her?
 

But it felt so good.
 
And it didn’t feel wrong, not with him.
Somehow it felt normal.
 
Like it was supposed to be.
 
With this guy, this cop, it felt normal.
 
Which, she knew, was about as abnormal as it could
get.

But the insanity continued, because the sloshing
sounds of his fingers massaging her wetness, and his lips sucking and kissing
on her pussy was all that could be heard in her quiet home.
 

Until he managed to speak again.

“Where’s your bedroom?” he asked between kisses,
his voice now sounding almost hoarse.
 
“Do you want to do it here or in bed?”