Show Me How (It's Kind Of Personal Book 2) (9 page)

“Hey.” I pat him on his shoulder when I walk by and pull a stool across from him.

“Talk to me,” he says, noting the tension in my body as his eyes assess me. Hell, I can feel how tight I am. Not only from the past twenty-four hours with Mary, but also from having the worst case of blue balls on the fucking planet.

“I found her.”

“No,” he mouths then clears his throat. “How? Where? When?”

“Charlotte was in her motel room last night.” Fuck, I have to talk to Travis and see how she’s doing. Plus, I need to find out the connection between those two. “When Mary opened the door, I nearly passed out.”

“No shit?”

“Dad. I found her.” I stand and look away so he can’t see that I’m about to break down.

“Details.”

“Working on getting more. But pretty much she’s been at Pay-By-Day for twelve fucking years as a live-in maid.”

He whistles, thoughts obviously the same as mine. She was so close this whole time.

“How did she take to seeing you?”

I chuckle and sit on the brown leather couch next to him. “At first, she was mad.”

“Why?”

“Because she didn’t want to be found. And get this shit.” I shake my head just thinking about it. “She ran because she wanted to protect us from Scott Smith.”

“Come again?” he asks in disbelief.

“Yeah, she said he threatened her and she was worried if she stayed that he would retaliate against our family. Fuckin’ stubborn woman. And . . . she blames herself for you being in a wheelchair.”

He pulls his head back and rubs his hands over his face. “I don’t even know what to say, son. That’s. Well, it’s incredible you found her, but at the same time . . . How on Earth could she blame herself? I don’t believe what you’re telling me.”

“Don’t believe what, dear?” Mom comes in with a tray of cheese and crackers. She sets it on the end table between me and Dad then sits on his lap in his wheelchair.

“Brandon found Mary.”

She gasps. “Alive?”

“Yeah. Alive and well. Hiding out in a motel out on I-94.”

Mom stands and claps, then runs to me and throws her arms around my neck. “That is the best news ever. Of course, there’s going to be work to do to rebuild your relationship, but that’s just amazing.”

“I know, Mom. It is amazing.”

* * *

“Hey, pretty lady? How’s my favorite girl?”

I lean down and scoop up my cat, Kat, and rub behind her ears. She purrs against my hand and I set her back down and grab a can of food.

As soon as I dump it in her bowl, she chows down. “Pig.”

I try to wear myself out with push-ups and a run on the treadmill, but it’s not working. Not only is my brain on overdrive, my body is humming with nervous energy. What really happens now? I know what I want to happen—to get her out of that motel and in my house—but does Mary want the same thing? I guess all I can do is wait until I talk to her.

If it were up to me, we’d just pick up where we left off, but I know that’s asking a lot. She obviously needs some time, so I have no choice but to give it to her. She has some issues she’s going to have to sort out, and the last thing I want to do is push her for more than she’s ready to give.

Remembering that I need to call Travis, I pick up the phone and dial his number. He doesn’t know everything about Mary. He thinks she was just a friend and that she moved away. My parents and I didn’t want to worry him, and at the time, I didn’t think he’d understand. After all these years, I guess we kept up with it out of habit or something. I’ll have to tell him the truth eventually. As soon as all this shit calms down, I will. He picks up on the second ring.

“Hey.”

“Hey, man. How’s Charlotte?”

He blows out a breath. “Good, considering. Thanks for helping me out. I know I was a dick, but I was so worried about her.”

“No problem, I'm just glad we found her and she's okay.” I'm glad he has someone to care about, someone who loves him back. He deserves it after what he went through. “So how does she know Mary?”

“Yeah. What the fuck was that? You look like you’d seen a ghost.”

“It’d been a long time since I’d seen her. I was shocked.”

“Shocked is an understatement. Not sure I’ve seen you panicked a day in your life. But as far as how they know each other? Fuck, I don’t know. I didn’t even ask with everything that happened.”

“Don’t sweat it. I’ll find out tomorrow.”

He yawns. “All right. I’m beat, man. You need anything else?”

“Nah, just wanted to see how everything was. Get some shut eye.”

After a shower, I force myself to bed and toss and turn all night. Eventually, I must have fallen asleep because my alarm clock starts blaring at six thirty in the morning.

I plan on stopping by Mary’s place on my way to work. There’s no way I could start my day without seeing her, and I need to ask her about how she knows Charlotte.

I dress in my uniform of black pants, a black t-shirt, and black boots. I clip my gun in its holster then grab my badge and attach that to my belt as well.

Before I leave, I feed Kat and give her a rub behind her ears then I get in my car and drive to see my Mary.

* * *

When Mary opens her door and squints against the sunlight, she pulls her head back and I see a bruise on her cheek.

“What the fuck?” I ask and slam her door open. “What happened to you?” Reaching up to touch her face, anger coils in my gut.

“I fell last night.”

Movement catches me out of the corner of my eye, and when I turn my head, a man sits up from her bed.

“Bullshit. He hit you? Who the fuck is this?”

“Hey, man. She fell, I swear.” He holds his hands out like I’m pointing a gun at him, then he stands.

“Joe, you should go.” Mary’s words are rushed, and she sends a pleading look to him.

“All right, Slim.” He walks up to her and pulls her into his arms, right in-fucking-front of me.

I’ve been in bad situations as a cop, life and death standoffs, and I’ve always been able to keep myself calm. Assess a situation and take the appropriate steps. That’s what I’m trained to do. And I’m good at it. But right now, I have no control. All I see is a piece of shit who has his hands on
my
Mary—who woke up in the same bed as her—and a fresh bruise on her cheek. Jealous and livid at the same time, the snake uncoils and releases its venom. I rip him off her and slam him against the wall.

“Don’t fucking touch her!”

“Brandon! Stop!”

“Motherfucker.” I grip his shirt even tighter and smash him against the wall again. His head ricochets off and little pieces of drywall fall to the floor.

“I didn’t hurt her.” He gasps.

“Brandon, please. Stop.” Mary is pulling at my arms, desperately trying to get me off. “He didn’t hurt me, I swear. I drank too much last night and fell off the bed. Let him go, please.”

I steal a glance over at her and she has fear in her eyes because of me, so I release my hands and he falls to the ground.

“Fuck,” I whisper, not believing I lost control like that. “Shit.”

“Oh, my God. Joe, are you all right?”

I take a couple of steps away until the backs of my knees hit the mattress, and allow myself to sit. I watch as Mary helps him up, brushes his shoulders off, and looks into his eyes. Her words are muffled to my ears, their bodies a blur. I finally snap out of it when she walks him to the door then comes back and pushes me on the shoulder.

“What the hell was that? You don’t just come in here and start beating people up. Jesus, Brandon. You’re lucky he wasn’t injured and he’s a really nice guy. Otherwise, I’m sure you’d be in a shitload of trouble at work if he wanted to press charges.”

“What happened to your face?”

“I fell! I already told you that!” she screams.

“Who the fuck was he?”

She shrinks into herself and looks away. “A friend.” There it is.

“What kind of friend?”

“Just a friend.”

I stand and grab her shoulders and turn her so she’s looking at me. “The kind of friend you fuck, Mary? Has he had his dick inside you?”

She pushes me back and I actually stumble from the force of it.

“Fuck you, Brandon. You don’t get to come here and tell me what I can or can’t do with my life.”

“I’m not telling you anything. I’m asking if you’ve fucked him,” I say evenly, even though my body is shaking right now. I don’t exactly know what’s happening, but I’ve never felt this kind of emotion before.

“And I’m telling you it’s kind of personal.”

“So that means yes.”

“Oh, my God! What the hell is wrong with you?” Her hands fly in the air and she slams them back down on her hips. “He’s a friend. That’s all I’m telling you.”

“A friend you won’t be seeing anymore.”

Anger flashes in her eyes, “You don’t get to come back into my life and tell me what or who to do. I can see whoever the hell I want.”

“You can, can you?” I squint my eyes and slowly take a step closer.

She moves back until her butt bumps against her dresser. “Yes. I can.”

“No. Not anymore.” Christ, I sound like a controlling asshole, but the thought of her fucking somebody else, even touching them, is turning me into a fucking prick. I should be waking up with her in the morning, not that piece of shit.

When my knees bump into hers, she shudders and I take a deep breath. I need to calm the fuck down. I raise my hand to touch her face, and she flinches.

“You know I’d never hurt you.”

“I used to. I thought I did. But after that,” she points to the hole in the drywall, “I’m not so sure. Goodbye, Brandon.” She pushes my hand away and ducks under it, and then she disappears into the bathroom.

Christ. I fucked up. I collapse in the chair and scrub my hands over my face. What in the hell is happening to me? I never do that. Emotions do not control me. Hit with both the thought of somebody hurting her and somebody fucking her at the same time, I lost my cool for a second. My head falls back to rest on my intertwined fingers, and I close my eyes as I force myself to calm down.

The bathroom door creaks open and Mary steps out with a small white towel wrapped around her chest. It barely covers her thighs. My dick immediately twitches, and she gasps when she sees me.

“I thought you left.” Her frantic hands try to adjust the towel to cover more of her smooth skin.

“No. Never. You can’t get rid of me now.”

She walks to the dresser a few feet away and bends over to pull open a drawer.

“Stop,” I say, swallowing down the anger when I think about another man touching her, seeing her like this.

Her body freezes, but she looks over her shoulder and narrows her eyes. I stand and walk behind her. My fingers rub underneath the top of the towel, and I give it a tug so it piles up on the floor by her feet.

“What are you doing?” She tries to cover herself, but I pull her back against my front and grab her wrists, firmly placing them at her sides.

“You are so hot, Mary.” I let go of her wrists and my hands hover over them for a moment to make sure they stay in place. Then I trail my fingers up her arms until I reach her neck. Gathering her hair in my fist, I grip it and give a gentle pull so she looks up into the mirror attached to the dresser.

Her eyes meet mine, and I lean down to run my tongue from under her ear down to her collarbone. I let go of her hair, and with both hands, one on each perfect tit, I pinch and circle her nipples. I put my fingers in her mouth to get them wet, then rub the buds harder. She moans and her head falls back on my chest.

“Watch,” I command. “I want you to see me. See who’s touching you. You need to know it’s me that’s about to make you come.” She whimpers and looks back at the mirror, watching my hands play with her, touch her, love her. “You want to come, don’t you, Mary?”

She nods and her mouth falls open when I circle her wet clit with my thumb. Everything about her feels amazing. Her skin is soft, her tits are the perfect weight, and her pussy is hot and wet.

I spread her lower lips with my index and middle finger, then reach down with my other hand and fuck her with two fingers. I’m entranced at how wet she is; my hand’s already soaked. I keep the same slow pace, in and out, then up to gently circle the tight bundle of nerves, and back down to fuck her with my fingers.

She starts to moan louder and grabs my arm with one hand while the other steadies her against the dresser. “Oh God, Brandon . . . I—I need more.”

“Yeah?” I pump faster and harder, still keeping her spread so I can watch.

She begins to get even tighter around my fingers, and her thighs shake. I add a third finger and give a few slaps to the top of her pussy. Our eyes connect in the mirror, hooded and full of lust. She digs her nails into my arm and falls forward while calling my name.

“That’s right.
Brandon.
It’s me that’s doing this to you. I’m the one that makes your body shake. Me, Mary. Only me.”

Chapter 9

Mary

“Here, Betty. Sorry, I forgot to bring them over yesterday.” I set the bag with her books down on the desk. After Brandon had left this morning, I called Betty, and we talked on the phone a bit about him being back in my life.

“Thank you, dear.” She smiles and rubs her hands together before reaching inside to pull the book out. Her eyes scan the pages, and I think she forgets I’m standing here.

“Bye.” I laugh.

She waves without looking up, and I continue on my way to do the laundry. The motel is relatively empty this week, so my workload is light. I only have two rooms to clean, and I’ve already done everything except wash the sheets. Using disposable gloves, I put them in the washer and sit on the lone chair in the dimly lit room. I keep things to do in a small box in order to pass the time. A few crossword puzzles, magazines people have left behind, and a couple of cheap romance novels. I even got the urge to knit one day, but the needles and yarn are in a tangled pile at the bottom of the box because I couldn’t figure it out.

I open the book I’m about halfway through and try to get lost in the words. The hero in this story is an FBI agent, and like always, Brandon’s face is in my mind. And after what he did to me this morning, I’m now hearing his voice when the hero says all the things he wants to do to the heroine.