Officer out of Uniform (Lock and Key Book 2) (13 page)

He wanted every last officer at the prison to know they were being targeted. He wanted them to lie down at night and have a hard time sleeping, for fear that they’d be dead and strung up by sunrise.

He wore gloves when he handled the bodies to buy himself a little extra time – when they found out for sure that it was him, everyone would be looking for his face. Still, they’d have to be stupid not to realize it was an ex-inmate hunting them down.

Hopefully that blonde bitch was at Dryden’s place again tonight. If she was, Randy would kill her first, make Dryden watch. It would be sweet justice, a fuck you to Dryden, who’d been part of the team that’d killed Troy. The asshole deserved to know how it felt to have someone he cared about shot.

With the dog out of the way, Randy would be able to approach the house in silence, stalk every flicker of light in the windows, every sound drifting out into the silent night. He’d bide his time, wait for the perfect moment to strike, just like he was hunting deer.

That was the really funny thing about all this: he’d spent his whole life training for it, squirming under the thumb of another bastard with a badge, forced out into the miserable South Carolina woods to escape home, to put food on the table. If not for his old man, he’d never have learned what he needed to know to do this right, to carry out his plans before the long arm of the law reached out and crushed him.

Every night he’d spent curled up in a damp lean-to with mosquitos eating him alive while he held onto his rifle with white knuckles, listening to things he couldn’t see slither through the underbrush, had been worth it.

He was that dangerous thing moving through the night now, scaring the shit out of people, damn near untouchable. He hoped Dryden was curled up in the dark thinking about him, about how he was out there. He hoped he’d buried his dead dog and was thinking about how he might be next.

And he would be. Circumstances were on Randy’s side. He’d been watching the news and woods all day, knew that the prison hadn’t deployed a search team for him yet, so there was no chance of Dryden’s schedule being interrupted by PERT duties.

Dryden worked day shift and would be home tonight. The forest behind the warden’s place had been searched, but it was nothing compared to how the authorities had pulled out all the stops when he and Troy had first made their escape off the prison bus. The entire county had been turned upside down then, with officials from every law enforcement agency in the state trampling through the backwoods.

Now, Randy practically had free reign to do whatever he wanted. Standing, he admired the naked Blaser before outfitting it with the suppressor he’d made. It was ugly and it almost seemed wrong to put it on the beautiful gun, but he didn’t have a choice. Not if he was going to make an example out of Dryden like he had the warden.

Drawing in one last breath of damp, grease-scented air, he turned for the door. His hand was on the knob when it rattled, shaken by a knock.

“Show me how bad you want me? Well, I can’t say no to that, can I?” Sasha grinned.

Henry smiled back. “You don’t have anything against a little restraint, do you?”

“Restraint?” Her eyes glittered. “Oh lord, if you mean what I think you mean, you really don’t know me very well if you think I’d say no.”

“Good.” He looked toward his dresser, where his duty belt rested, complete with cuffs. Then he looked below, where he kept a couple back-up pairs in a drawer. He’d use one of those, and they’d be just for her from here on out.

She gasped when he pulled out a pair of shining cuffs.

He turned toward her, eyes searching her face. Hadn’t she realized what he’d meant?

“You still good?”

She nodded. “I could make a serious case for never having been better, actually.”

He breathed a quiet sigh of relief as he realized exactly how badly he wanted this, how important it was to him to be able to show her that she didn’t have to do anything for him to win his attention, his touch. What was left of his heart.

She was uncharacteristically compliant, holding out her wrists and letting him secure the cuffs there. He was careful not to make them too tight, though they were adjusted so she couldn’t slip out, either. As he stepped back, she reached out and raked her nails down his thigh. She smiled as a frisson tore through him, shaking him from the inside out.

He got naked fast, throwing his clothes aside so he could get to the good part: undressing her.

Fingers seeking her jeans button, he leaned down, relishing the way her breasts brushed his cheek. He couldn’t resist tasting both of her nipples, stroking them with his tongue, sucking on them, hard.

She breathed like she’d just run a marathon, arching beneath him, the cuff chain clinking softly as she reached for his dick.

For a few blissful seconds, he let her pump her hands up and down his shaft, fingertips brushing his balls at the beginning of every stroke. Then he pulled back, taking her jeans with him, stripping her down to her panties.

They were black and lacy, a beautiful scrap of fabric that hugged her pussy and little else. It didn’t surprise him, but it sure as hell turned him on. He couldn’t bring himself to take his time stripping them off, too intoxicated by the promise of seeing her bare – all of her. He could smell a sweet muskiness as he whipped her panties off of her, and he longed to taste it, too.

Tempted to his limits, he forgot about the cuffs for a few minutes and buried his face between her thighs, mouth open, tongue reaching. When he slipped it between her lips and into her core, she moaned. Next thing he knew, she was raking her fingers over his skull again. There was an edge of desperation to her touch, like she was reaching for something.

He knew exactly what that was and resolved to give it to her. Sucking on her clit, he slipped a hand between her thighs and began to finger the slippery cleft below. He couldn’t help but groan when she tightened her pussy around his fingers, squeezing, teasing him with thoughts of what it’d be like to come inside her again.

He didn’t have to fantasize about it for long. She came fast and hard, her pussy wrenching tight around his fingers, her hips bucking. He could actually feel her climax rolling through her – an experience that had him by the balls, threatening to make him come before he even got his dick wet.

He had to rock back on his heels when she was finally still, had to pull away fast before he lost it. The head of his cock brushed her thigh as he stood, positioned between her spread legs at the edge of the bed. She lay on her back in front of him, hands bound, face flushed and breasts rising with every breath, the most enticing thing he’d ever seen.

In his mind’s eye, he could see her lying another way, though.

“Hold on,” he said, turning his back on her long enough to grab a cuff key from the dresser.

She didn’t ask questions as he unlocked her and secured her again, this time with her hands behind her back.

“Let me know if you want me to stop,” he said, touching her wrist and the cool metal he’d locked there. “Let me know if you want free.”

She nodded and he gripped her by her hips, flipping her over carefully, so she was on her stomach. “Can you get up on your knees, at the edge of the bed?”

“Yes.” She raised herself up, ass high in the air, bracing herself on her elbows. Like this, she was completely exposed to him. Exposed and handcuffed, her pink pussy lips on bold display just inches from him, glistening wet. It hit him then that he’d asked her for something significant, a level of trust he hadn’t earned yet.

And she’d given it to him without hesitation. His chest felt tight, and his cock would’ve split at the seams, if it’d had any.

“I want you like this because I don’t want you to be able to get your hands on me,” he said, knowing it was only fair that he explain. “No touching. No doing anything for me, like you always are. I love all that, but I don’t need it. I don’t want you to do anything except let me show you how much I want you.”

He dropped to his knees before she could say anything, kneeling behind her and resting his hands on her thighs. Up close, the sight of her open and ready was enough to make him moan. He breathed in her sweet musky scent, ran his hands up and down her thighs as he leaned in and licked her pussy, slow and easy.

The perfect curves of her round ass pressed against his cheek, making his dick twitch.

He stroked her wet slit like that until she was shuddering, making sounds he’d never heard before, not a moan and not words, something like a soft scream, a cry for more. Raising a hand, he sank two fingers into her pussy.

She jerked, then pushed back against him, fucking his hand. He wrapped an arm around her thigh, supporting her, and fucked her back, fingers plunging knuckle-deep into her wet heat.

Feeling her muscles go tight against him and hearing the sounds she made felt so good he might as well have been jacking himself off instead of giving her pleasure. He was on the verge of coming when she came, really screaming this time, no longer pushing back, just trembling with her thighs spread wide, her ass in the air.

“Fuck,” he said, withdrawing his fingers moments later. “Fuck, Sasha. You drive me crazy. I have to be in you or I’m going to come on the floor.”

He was so blinded by desire that he almost forgot about using a condom. At the last second, he summoned all his willpower and retrieved one from the dresser, rolling it down his dick as quickly as he could. Next thing he knew, he was holding onto her hips, nudging the head of his cock against her folds, forcing himself not to slam it in because the last thing he wanted to do was hurt her.

“Oh my God. Henry!” Her voice was muffled a little by the blanket, but he could hear her clearly, and his balls drew up tight at the sound. Damn, he wasn’t even all the way in her yet.

She rocked back against him, rectifying that. All his breath rushed out of his lungs as her ass slammed against his groin, leaving him gloriously, suddenly balls-deep inside her. For a second he just stood frozen, caught in the grip of sheer, crushing pleasure, unable to move.

His motionlessness didn’t last long. Thrusting, he made her shake, made the bed shake. Every time his body hit her ass it made a slapping sound and that was all he could hear. That and her saying his name as her pussy shrank again and again, repetitively squeezing his dick. There was no telling whether it was involuntary or she was doing it on purpose, but it felt good.

So good he came, tipping his head back, groaning like he was dying the most amazing death possible. His legs shook and his heart pounded as he poured himself into her. It lasted a long time, and he kept thrusting until every last trace of his orgasm was gone.

When he pulled out, she moaned and collapsed.

He sank down onto the bed beside her and pulled her into his lap. “You okay? Need me to take these off?” He tapped the cuffs.

She shook her head. “I’m fine. More than fine. God, Henry.”

Some part of him swelled, and for once it wasn’t his dick. His pride, and maybe his heart. “Good. Because I’m not done.”

She shook in his arms. “You’re not?”

“Not even close.” He pulled her tight, held her close. “I still want you. More than you realize.”

More than he’d realized, too. And it wasn’t
just
sexual. While lust was still pouring through his veins, especially now that she was naked in his lap, he wanted her in more ways than just that.

He wanted to be close to her. He wanted her to be his. He wanted everything that could be between them, and then some.

“I’m going to leave the cuffs on,” he said. “And if you’ve ever had any doubts about which one of us wants this more, I’m going to put them to rest.”

* * * * *

Randy didn’t answer the door right away. Instead, he turned on his heel and dashed back to the bedroom, slipping the Blaser under the bed.

“Fuck.” He leapt up from the mildewy carpet, sweating.

Back in the living room, he stood frozen, waiting for whoever it was to go away. If it was a neighbor he could wait them out and they’d probably assume Reynolds was asleep, or taking a shit.

But they didn’t go away, didn’t quit knocking.

“Dad!” A male voice called out from outside the trailer. “Dad, it’s me. Sean.”

Randy crept to the nearest window and lifted the threadbare curtain, straining for a glimpse of Sean, or whoever the fuck was outside.

A skinny guy wearing a baggy t-shirt stood alone on the stoop holding a case of cheap beer. Couldn’t have been any older than twenty-five, probably more like twenty.

“Come on, dad.”

Randy swore, knowing he’d have to stop the racket before someone noticed and realized that Reynolds wasn’t there. If it was just a neighbor, Randy would’ve laid back and waited for them to slink off, go fuck themselves. But this was the miserable sack of shit’s son. He might just care enough to have the law come check the place out if no one answered.

So Randy did the only thing he dared to do – he answered the door.

Sean stood there and blinked watery blue eyes like he’d just been smacked upside the head. “Who’re you?”

Randy stuck out a hand. “Name’s Kenny. You must be Sean. C’mon in – your old man’ll be back soon enough.”