G-Men: The Series (155 page)

I sat up immediately, wiping the sleep from my eyes. He looked tired and disheveled, simply worn-out, and quite drunk.

“Slate, are you alright?”

He peered down at me through his thick, dark lashes and shook his head, “no.” His hand rubbed his chin stubble and for a moment, I thought he was going to come apart.

I scooted over, patting a place on the sofa next to me.

“Sit, please. I need to apologize to you, Slate. I’m so sorry.”

He took a seat next to me, leaning back against the couch. “What exactly are you apologizing for, Lindsey?”

“For everything,” I said. “I made a stupid, stupid decision. It caused Taz to be suspended and you and Mom to worry. Maybe it caused Mom to lose the babies.”

I started bawling like an infant.

“Lindsey,” he said, calmly, “please stop beating yourself up. What’s done is done. What about what happened to you, huh? What about the pain and torture that you endured? Why are you minimizing that to everyone? That had to be horrific. Here I am, feeling bad that no one is here and up to consoling you. Your mom is feeling guilty about not being here for you. Christ, no one blames you for the miscarriage. We knew it was a very risky pregnancy.”

No matter what he said, I believed what I believed. I would recover much quicker than my mother would. My tears continued streaming down my face.

“Christ,” Slate said, “I’m so fucking useless when it comes to dealing with a female’s emotions. Come here.”

I felt his strong arms pull me to his chest, just like a father would. He consoled me, stroking my hair like my father should be doing right now instead of my step-father. I melted into the safety of his arms, feeling comforted for the first time since I had escaped that nightmarish ordeal.

“Everything will be alright, Lindsey,” he said soothingly to me. “Just go ahead and let it out; you need to get it all out, okay?”

I felt myself nod against his chest and did just as he said: I let the tears that had been building up, that I hadn’t allow myself to shed, out. They flowed freely, down my cheeks, onto Slate’s arm that was around me.

Finally, I was empty. There were just a few dry sobs. I was cried out. Slate pulled back from me, taking his fingertips and wiping the last remnants of my tears from my cheeks.

“You realize you have drenched my shirt,” he teased, watching my face. He was trying to get a smile out of me. I gave him one, wiping my nose with the back of my hand.

“Sorry,” I said. “I guess I had some build-up going on.”

He smiled down at me, nodding. “I can relate,” he said. “So, feeling a little bit better?”

I nodded. “Thanks, Slate.”

“Hey, we’re family, Linds.”

And then he did something totally unexpected. He lowered his head and his lips kissed me gently on my damp cheek. It wasn’t as if the kiss meant anything, I suppose. His lips then moved and kissed my other cheek softly, then the tip of my nose.

“So beautiful,” he breathed. I could smell whiskey on his breath. I started to move from him, but his lips found mine, and brushed against them gently.

“Slate,” I murmured against his lips, “I need to go to bed.”

“I need you to comfort me, Lindsey. It’s been so long. Please, just let me hold you.”

He pulled me onto his lap and just cuddled me there, making no move to do anything further. He hands lightly caressed my hair, his thumb brushed gently against the curve of my eyebrow and he studied me.

The truth was, I felt comforted as well. I was cradled in his arms, his warm, masculine scent so very close, his hands gently caressed my arms and shoulders. There was really no harm in that. I felt myself drift into a peaceful slumber. It was the most restful sleep I had experienced since the ordeal.

I felt like I was floating. Soon, I could feel my body sink into the soft mattress underneath me, my head gently lowered to my pillow. I then felt warm lips touch mine, a tongue tracing the outside, wanting entrance. I parted my lips to allow it. My lips met his; our tongues explored this new territory, this forbidden area. It was only a dream, though.

I felt the mattress dip with his weight right beside me now, raising my short nightgown up over my head. His thumbs hooked into each side of the waistband of my panties, lowering them down to my ankles and pulling them over my feet. I heard the sharp intake of breath as his fingers explored the soft folds of my pussy.

His lips were now where his fingers had been, kissing the soft skin, his tongue tracing every fold, his warm breath against me. I moved my hands to where his head was, fisting them into his thick, dark hair as he moved his mouth against my core, bringing waves and waves of pleasure rushing through me.

I pressed myself up against him, wanting more. He gave me more. His fingers pressed up inside of me, while his tongue circled my clit tenderly and thoroughly. I heard a moan escape from my lips in this dream; this thoroughly erotic and delightful dream. My hips rocked against him sensually, my legs spreading myself totally open to anything he wanted.

His hands placed my ankles on each of his shoulders. He then lowered his hands beneath me, each one cupping a cheek as he raised me up, closer to his face. He devoured me orally, as if he hungered for something that only I could provide.

He murmured things to me about how sweet I tasted, how much he wanted to taste all of me. And he did; there was not one nook or cranny that his magic tongue didn’t explore thoroughly. I was drenched, but needing more. I wanted my dream to bring me to full satisfaction. I needed to know if I could still experience it without thinking of the pain that had been inflicted to those same areas by that monster.

I whimpered in my dream. It was as if he knew what I needed…what I had to find out right now.

“Are you sure, Lindsey?”

“Yes. I need it now.”

I felt my legs lowered from his broad shoulders. His hands pushed my thighs apart and his weight hovered over me. His lips found mine and he kissed me hungrily and passionately. His fingertips plied my folds, making sure I was still wet for him. I was.

I felt him guide his erection inside of me slowly; taking his time to assure there was no pain, no change of heart on my side. I knew there wouldn’t be.

I placed my hands on his firm ass and gently massaged, pressing him forward so that he filled me a bit more.

“More?” he questioned softly.

“Mmm, yes,” I breathed.

I felt him sink deeper into me, drawing a quick breath.

“You’re so fucking tight, Lindsey. Tell me if it hurts, baby.”

“It feels so good. Please don’t stop!”

He thrust himself into me fully now. I heard him groan deeply as I planted my feet on his ass, my toes kneading his flesh in circular motions.

“Rock into me,” I directed, “I want to feel you everywhere in side.”

He did as I wanted and it was magnificent. My hips arched upward to take all of him into me. I met his thrusts and we matched our rhythms perfectly, as if we had done this before.

I could hear myself whimpering as his thrusts came faster and deeper within me. He was groaning loudly in pleasure, saying my name over and over again, his lips capturing mine, biting and tugging at my bottom lip, which made me all much more aware of his need to fuck me his way.

His arms hauled my hips up higher at an angle, and as he continued plunging his cock in and out, I felt myself swell up inside for him. I was in near frenzy now, pumping against him faster and furiously.

“That’s it, Lindsey. Someone’s taught you how to fuck.”

His words caused me to contract around him. I could feel my muscles squeeze his cock tightly. He moaned as if it was almost painful, but only almost. His arms were braced on either side of me now, his weight resting on them as he rocked in and out of me. I could feel our climaxes climbing together for the freefall.

I was unraveling now, feeling the burst of my release around him, moaning with pleasure. He was right there with me, softly urging my climax on.

“That’s my girl. Take my cock, Lindsey…
Fuck!!”

I met his thrusts full-force, as I continued to come over and over again. I felt his cock throb as he joined me, filling me up with his seed, groaning my name and telling me to take it all. I did.

It seemed to go on forever before he finally finished coming. He collapsed gently on top of me. Our bodies were both soaked with the sweat of our fucking, and the wet releases of our orgasms. It felt so right and yet so wrong.

Our breathing was ragged, our hearts were pounding. He lowered his lips to mine for one last, soft kiss. I kissed him back, my hands now pressed against the back of his neck.

“We can never let your mother know this happened. Promise me?”

Oh My God. This had not been a dream. This was real. How could I have lost myself like that? How could I have allowed Slate to make love to me? I felt the tears stream down my cheeks. I hated myself for what I had done to my mother…and for what I had done to Taz! But mostly, I hated myself because I had loved it and I’d do it again in a second.

I felt Slate leave my bed. He shut the door softly, going downstairs to his room. The room right below mine, the room where I had heard him making love to my mother many times.

The following days remained foggy for me. Each day I felt better physically, but the constant attempts at avoiding Slate were tiresome. He was doing exactly the same thing with me. We were uncomfortable around each other, both despising ourselves for what we had done, for the breach of conduct we had committed.

Slate came up to my room the night before my mother was coming home. He tapped on the door. I told him to come in.

“Lindsey,” he said, “we need to talk about what happened or we’re never going to be comfortable around each other.”

I nodded, turning to look up at him from my bed.

“It was wrong, we both know that. But it was human, okay?”

“Does that mean that we shouldn’t hate ourselves?”

“It means that we need to forgive ourselves. We were both going through stuff and we needed each other for comfort. What we did was for comfort, nothing else. It doesn’t have anything to do with the way I love your mother, or the way that you love Taz, okay?”

“Okay,” I said, not really sure if I totally could forgive myself.

“So, you need to lose the guilty look or your mom will know something is wrong.”

“I look guilty?”

“Oh, yeah. Totally.”

“I can’t pretend that it didn’t happen, Slate. And,” I paused for a moment, not sure whether I could finish the sentence or not, my eyes locking with his. “I can’t pretend that I don’t want it to happen again.”

^{Q + A for characters}

Catherine from Sparta, TN:

Q: Taz, how do you and Easton get along now?

TAZ: Just like any other brothers, I guess. We constantly compete with one another, disagree and argue, but underneath it all? I guess I love the prick.

Q: Easton? How about your answer, same question.

EASTON: Same answer as my knob-headed brother’s, only more eloquent.

Jo Anna from Kansas City, MO:

Q: Darcy, I have two questions. First, what kind of a father is Easton? Secondly, does his piercing really make a difference?

DARCY: OMG—He is so awesome with Weston! He feeds him, changes wet nappies—he won’t do the pooey ones—but he’s great about everything else. Weston adores him, too! As for your second question: HELL YEAH!

Annabelle from Gary, IN:

Q: Slate, does Lindsey know that it was you that shot her father that night in the park?

SLATE: Well, she fucking
does now
, Annabelle!

Shelly from Tempe, AZ

Q: Taz, now that you’re on the BAU with the FBI, do you ever get to work with Derek Morgan or Dr. Spencer Reid?

TAZ: Seriously, dude?

Lacee from Washington, D.C.

Q: Easton! Why in the
hell
am I being transferred to the site in Bakersfield, California?

EASTON: Next question, please.

Paula from Miami, FL

Q: Darcy, I’ve been on quite a few cruises and I gotta say that I’ve not heard of nude beaches on any of those island stops, or the even the cruise line that you were on, or the ship or anything. How do you explain that?

DARCY: Paula, can you spell F-I-C-T-I-O-N?

Butch from San Francisco, CA

Q: Eli, Any plans for a hot sequel involving just you and Cain?

ELI: What’s
your
deal, Butch?

Sandy from Chicago, IL

Q: Taz, will we see you in Chicago next May?

TAZ: If not in body, then in spirit, Sandy.