Coming Home to You (The Rockport Beach Series Book 1) (37 page)

BOOK: Coming Home to You (The Rockport Beach Series Book 1)
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“You
love it, baby,” I say, unlocking my car and sliding in behind the wheel. I hit
the ignition and my cell switches over to hands-free.

“Whatever,
mister,” she says, laughing. “Now are you coming up, or what?”

“Sure
thing,” I tell her. “I wouldn’t miss any chance to witness Beck hit his
thirties and start his mid-life crisis.”

Kelsey
laughs again. “Great, we’ll see you Friday then. Spare room is all yours, even
though I’m sure it won’t get used…as usual.”

“Whatever.
Laters, babe,” I say, laughing as I hang up on her.

 

Work
is the usual bullshit of meetings, interviewing witnesses, meetings, getting
called out to a case, and meetings. I love my job, but it’s exhausting and ever
since Beck decided to stay in Rockport, it’s a lot less fun too. They promoted
me after he left and I now head up our team, taking over what he used to do.
And with that comes a shitload more administrative stuff, all of which
completely sucks. This isn’t what I signed up for.

I
glance at my watch and see it’s after six. Shuffling the notes of the latest
case we’re working on, a double homicide, I decide to call it a day. I head
outside and into Finnigan’s across the road from the station. This used to be a
regular stop for me and Beck. At least twice a week, we’d find ourselves in here,
unwinding after a long day and more often than not, finding someone to take
home and unwind with. Of course now I’m flying solo on that front, even though
half of my team is already in here, probably on their second pints.

“Hey,
Sir,” the newest addition calls out as I walk through the door.

“Pete,”
I nod, ordering a beer as I take a seat up at the bar.

By
the time I’m halfway through, an arm is sliding across my shoulders and a hand
is brushing my forearm. I turn and am greeted with a pair of huge tits pressed
against me. After a good look, I force my eyes to the owner of the impressive
rack’s face.

“Hello,
Ryan Summers,” the woman says.

She’s
definitely fucking hot, in that big tits, big hair, and full lips kind of way.
She also looks familiar and I’m absolutely positive I’ve banged her at some
stage.

“Hey,”
I say, half turning to face her.

Big
tits takes the opportunity to step closer and my knee winds up between her
legs. She subtly grinds against me and I have to swallow hard. “You don’t
remember me, do you?” she asks.

“Sure
I do,” I lie, my eyes going to her tits again.

“Oh
yeah,” she says, a finger under my chin and forcing my gaze back up. “What’s my
name then?”

I’m
staring at her face, racking my brain for a reminder. I’m usually pretty good
at remembering who I’ve fucked, but it’s been a while. Big tits, full lips…Big
tits and I’m sure I remember those lips around my cock at some point too. I
smile as it suddenly hits me. “Shelley,” I say, a smug grin on my face.

Shelley
practically purrs with happiness as she presses herself against me again. “Well
done, Detective,” she says. “At least now you’ll know what name to call out
later on.”

I
smile even though a part of me is repulsed at the idea. There’s something about
this blatant come-on, especially when Shelley knows I barely remember her,
which instantly turns me off. Why is she making it this easy for me, doesn’t
she have any self-respect?

“Pretty
confident there, aren’t you?” I can’t help but ask.

Shelley
smiles. “I just know what you like,” she says, her nails stroking my arm.

I
take another sip of my beer thinking, no, you have no idea what I like. I know
though, and it’s not this. I want a woman who makes me work for it, who wants
me to not only prove I’m good enough for her, but that I’m gonna be the best
damn fuck she’s ever had.

I
shake my head, wondering where the hell this sudden change of heart is coming
from. I never used to be this picky; the fact that I fucked Shelley once is
proof of that.

“What?”
Shelley asks. “You don’t like?”

I
finish off my beer and stand. “Not tonight, Shelley,” I say as I remove her
hand from my arm and pick up my jacket.

“What?
Why not?” she asks.

I
shrug. “Just not in the mood I guess.”

Shelley’s
face is a mix of shock and annoyance. “Not in the mood?” she almost shouts.
“Since when is Ryan Summers not in the mood?”

“Dunno,”
I tell her. “Today I guess.”

Shelley
crosses her arms, pushing her tits higher. I can’t help but glance at them and
when I look back at her, she’s smirking at me. “Oh you’re in the mood,” she
says, taking a step closer.

I
shake my head. “No, I’m not.”

The
smirk disappears. “What the hell, are you seeing someone or something?”

Her
words stop me in my tracks.

Holy
fuck.

“Good
night, Shelley,” I quickly say, not even bothering to look at her as I turn and
walk out the door.

As
the cool air hits me, so does the realization.

I
haven’t been with a single other woman since the day I first fucked Erin in the
ladies bathroom at Beck’s family pub.

I’d
followed her in there after we’d been arguing over something; I can’t even
remember what it was now. All I knew was that the way this woman was arguing
with me, turned me on like nothing ever has before. I’d wanted her immediately
and even though she’d told me to fuck off, I could tell she wanted me too. So
I’d followed her in there and fucked her against the wall. She’d offered to
suck me off but when I refused to say please, I’d torn off her panties and
fucked her instead. I didn’t even stop to put on a condom and it wasn’t until
she’d walked out and left me standing there, my dick out and her panties in my
hand, that I’d realized what a shitty thing that was to do.

By
the time I walked back out to the pub, she’d gone. Beck had told me where she
lived though, so I’d gone straight over there to apologize for what I’d done.
That had turned into another argument about assumptions, which led me to
confess I’d never not used a condom before. Erin had spat out that she was on
the pill, which led to more arguments over what she’d said, which had of course
led to me fucking her against her front door, in the hall, and finally in her
bedroom, never once using a condom. I’d spent the night at her place and when
she kicked me out the next morning, I was grinning like I’d just won the
lottery.

“Fucking
hell,” I say to myself, running a hand through my hair as I walk towards the
parking lot and my car. As I slide into the seat, I pull out my cell and send a
message.

Me: I’ll be up on Friday Red, I better
find you naked when I knock on your front door.

Erin: Who the fuck is this?

I
smile, knowing she knows who it is. She never gave me her number, this I got
through covert means, but she fucking knows.

Me: the best fucking lay you’ve ever
had.

Erin: Tom?

I
shake my head, my blood already humming through my veins in irritation as the
thought of Erin being with someone else flashes through me.

Me: are you trying to piss me off?

Erin: I thought you loved it when I did
that?

Me: you love the fucking orgasm I give
you because of it.

Erin: wanna give me one now?

I
have to adjust my pants as I pull out onto the street. It’s only a short drive
to my apartment, and right now, I’m glad. I’ve got a hard-on like you wouldn’t
believe and I’m in danger of crashing my car because of it. I’m also seriously
considering driving up to Rockport so Erin can do something about it.

Me: you know I do. You touching
yourself?

There’s
nothing for a couple of minutes and as I pull into my parking space and kill
the ignition, I have to double check that my message actually went through.
Just as I’m about to type out another one, Erin responds.

Erin: I’m fingering myself like you did
that first night.

“Fuck
me,” I say, slamming the car door and racing up the stairs to my apartment. The
second the front door shuts, I’m hitting the call button on my cell.

“Detective
Ryan Summers,” she says smugly. “What a surprise.”

I
laugh, kicking off my shoes as I walk through to the bedroom. “What, don’t tell
me you weren’t hoping I’d call.”

I
hear shuffling through the phone and I picture Erin lying in her bed doing
exactly what she told me she was doing. “Oh I was confident you would,
especially after my last message,” she says and I can tell she’s smiling.

I
undo my belt and push my pants and boxers down my legs as I sit on the edge of
the bed. “So tell me, Red, are you really doing what you said you were or are
you just being a cock tease?”

I
hear more shuffling. “Would I lie to you, Detective?” she asks.

I
start undoing the buttons of my shirt, shrugging it off before I lie down on my
bed, the phone at my ear and my dick in my hand. “No, I’m hoping you wouldn’t,”
I tell her.

I
hear sucking noises this time before Erin says, “That was me, cleaning my
fingers like I did to yours that first time.”

“Jesus
christ, Erin,” I say, my hips jacking up into my hand at her words.

“What?
You don’t like that?” she asks.

“You
know I fucking do,” I growl, my hand stroking my cock now.

“Tell
me what you’re doing, Detective?”

I
moan into the phone as my thumb brushes over the top of my cock. It’s throbbing
in my hand, rock hard now because of her voice in my ear and all the things
she’s saying. “I’m lying on my bed with my dick in my hand,” I tell her.

“And
what are you thinking about?” she asks.

“I’m
thinking that I wish it was your hand holding my dick,” I tell her. “Or better
yet, your mouth.”

“Not
my pussy?” she asks.

“Fuck,
Erin,” I bite out, my body straining for a release. “Your hand, your mouth,
your pussy. I want all of it.”

Erin
laughs, but it’s throaty and deep and sexy as fucking hell. “I know you do,
Detective. Just like I wish it was your cock inside me now, not my fingers.”

“Tell
me you’re touching yourself,” I say, my hand moving faster.

Erin
groans through the phone. “I’m not just touching myself, I’m fucking myself,”
she says. “Fucking myself with my fingers, just like you once did.”

“Jesus,
fuck, Erin,” I say, my hand gripping tighter, moving impossibly faster. “Fuck,
baby, I’m gonna come.” And then I do, my dick exploding in my hand as Erin
pants down the phone, calling out my name as she comes too.

“Wow…”
she eventually breathes out. “Wow.”

I
smile, thinking wow is a big fucking understatement. “Yeah,” I murmur. “Wow.”

Erin
laughs again, and it’s so fucking sexy that I instantly wish I was there with
her, my arm wrapped around her waist and pulling her body against mine as she
comes down from this high. I want it to be my mouth or my dick making her this
way, not just her hand in response to my voice.

Jesus,
what the fuck is wrong with me. Not only have I not slept with a single other
woman since I started fucking Erin, but she’s all I’m thinking about too. I
jack off to her, I randomly go to Rockport and fuck her and now, I’ve just had
fucking phone sex with her.

And
all of it has been amazing.

And
I really, really want more of it. A lot more.

Swallowing
the words before I blurt them out and completely screw myself to the wall, I
say, “I’ll see you in two days, gorgeous. You better be ready.”

And
then I hang up before she can say anything, before she realizes what’s going on
here, what I’ve just worked out for myself.

I’m
completely fucking whipped.

 
 

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