ToServeAndProtect (26 page)

“First we finish looking around.” She walked back into
the hallway. “What about the basement? We should look down there.”

“All right, but we need to hurry.”

The basement was one large unfinished room. Wood
framing, run with electrical wires, gave some indication to the potential
rooms. Spider webs stretched from walls to bare hanging bulbs in the center of
the divided areas.

“Dustin, come here.” She set her flashlight on the
cement floor. “Not all the trash made it to the curb.” She ripped open the top
of a cinched black yard bag. “Papers.” She sucked in her breath and scooped out
a handful of white computer papers.

Kneeling beside her, he read over her shoulder. “Look
at the header,” he said pointing to the top left hand corner. “From the office
of Finch and Lieberman.”

“Accountants.” McKenna let her hands fall into her
lap. “I guess we can guess how Elliot and Roslyn met. She must be his new
accountant.”

“It’ll be easy enough to find out if Elliot was a
client. Keep looking.” He reached into the garbage bag.

“Dustin.” She put her hand on his forearm and sat
perfectly still. “Listen.”

He stopped rustling through the papers. Fuck, all he
could hear was their labored breathing. Blood roared through his ears. There it
was. The definite creak on the floorboards above them. Dustin clicked off his
flashlight. She did the same.

“The neighbor?” she quietly asked.

His pulse raced and his heart hammered. He shook his
head. “She’d think we’re sex starved teenagers and holler for us to get the
hell out.” Standing, he pulled his gun from his belt. He reached for the duffel
bag, but McKenna picked it up and flung it over her head and across her
shoulder.

“I’ll carry the bag and you worry about shooting the
bad guys,” she said seriously and moved in close behind him. “There’s no
basement door. What about the window?”

Sweat dampened his palms. “Damn.” He gripped the gun,
comfortable with the weight of a loaded pistol. If he pulled the trigger, he
had no intention of missing his mark. He glanced at McKenna. “I’ll protect you.
I promise.” He had no doubt that one or more of the intruders above them
carried the Marino name. “Looks like the window is our only option. Come on.”

“At least you won’t have to jump.” She unlatched the
window and slid it open. Dustin pulled on the black rubber tabs on the edge of
the screen.

Heavy footfalls hurried across the upper floor. “Go.”
The door to the basement swung open. “Go!” They’d be down the stairs in
seconds. Moving quickly, she climbed out of the window well and hunkered
against the back wall of the house.

“They went out the window,” someone hollered from
inside the house.

“Run!” Dustin yelled, and they took off across the
yard. The backdoor slammed. The deafening bang of gunfire pierced the air.
“Keep running, Mickey, don’t look back!”

Skippy barked wildly as they sprinted past the dog
run. “Good boy,” Dustin said.

“Who the hell is out there?” Skippy’s owner hollered
through the window.

Dustin had the car in gear before McKenna had the
passenger door closed. “Put your head down!” he screamed as a bullet buzzed
past imbedding in a telephone pole two feet from the front of the car. She
yanked the duffel bag over her head and tossed it into the backseat then
flattened her torso as best she could.

Tires squealed and the rear end fishtailed. Dustin
pulled his weapon from his waistband and tucked it between his legs.
“FuckFuckFuckFuck.” He turned to her. “Are you okay? You’re not hit?”

“They tried to kill us!”

“Mickey, look at me.”

“They shot at us!” Her eyes were wild with fright, and
her lips trembled. “I thought they wanted to talk. Why would they shoot?
Dustin, what am I supposed to know?” Her brows furrowed.

Dustin’s hands visibly shook as he tried to handle the
steering wheel. Blood raged hot and slick in his veins and his heart pounded
painfully like a jackhammer against his ribs. He maneuvered through Roslyn’s
neighborhood. Leaving the headlights off until he reached a major thoroughfare,
then he headed back toward the hotel.

“Fuck.” He swore and pulled off the highway. Violent
trembles racked his body. Ragged gasped couldn’t fill his lungs. He needed a
moment to collect himself. Now. He took a couple of rights until he turned onto
a dead-end side street. After stopping the car, he clenched his fists and laid
his head against the steering wheel. He took his gun, making sure the safety was
set and placed it under the seat. All the while, he continued to drag in deep
breaths. It didn’t help calm his rioting emotions. His chest was too tight.

Tonight had been close to a repeat of the last
shooting he’d been involved in. One-sided gunfire, only this time the risk was
personal. McKenna had responded to his orders, and they had escaped, but the
bullets had been close. They’d been a warning. If the Marino’s had wanted, they
could’ve left them dead in the grass. Out in the open they had been easy
targets.

“Hey.” McKenna went to her knees and slid her butt
onto the console between them. She rubbed the length of Dustin’s spine. “Look,
we’re okay.”

Dustin’s nerves were live wires under her touch.
Every muscle in his body tensed to the point to of pain.
When their eyes met, something dark and
foreboding passed between them. His arm snaked out and wrapped around the back
of her neck bringing her mouth to his. Sliding wildly into her heated mouth,
his tongue possessed. Burned. Consumed. Mad with lust, yet his passion was
driven by anger. Anger at himself. He had to assure himself she was safe.
Touching, caressing, proving to himself he hadn’t failed her.

McKenna didn’t think, just responded. His lips moved
over hers, drawing her tongue into his mouth. Sucking and tasting. Her body
became pliant as Dustin pulled her sideways onto his lap. Her knees bent over
the console and she placed her feet on the passenger seat. His fingers slipped
under the hem of her tank top. Flat against her stomach, his hand moved up to
her breast.

A moan broke from her lips. He filled his palm with
her small breast and rolled the taut nipple between his finger and thumb.
Pleasure tugged on her clit and her panties were damp with desire.

Reaching to the side, Dustin pushed the seat back as
far as it would go and moved the backrest to a semi reclining position.
Desperate to ease the ache thrumming through her clit, she clung to his
shoulders and shifted her legs to straddle his lap. She aligned her heated
mound with his thick arousal and moved against it.

The street was deserted. Without street lamps and with
the engine off, darkness cloaked the car. She lifted her arms and he grabbed
the hem of her tank top, yanked it up, over her head and off.

“I want you so much.” Dustin bent and placed a kiss
between her breasts, trailed his tongue higher, and nibbled along her
collarbone.

“Then have me.” Clasping his head, she arched back
against the steering wheel. His wet mouth greedily circled her areola taking
her erect nipple between his teeth and gently biting. Pleasure heated her pussy
and warm cream trickled from her channel. She cried out.

He gripped her ribcage, held tightly and thrust
against her. “Mickey—”

“If you stop now, I swear I’ll kill you myself.” She
nipped at his lip.

Knotting his fingers in her hair, he pulled her head
back and grazed his teeth along her stretched neck. “I don’t think I can stop.”

McKenna pushed on his chest and shifted back into the
passenger seat. She smiled as she unbuttoned her jeans. Slipping off her shoes,
she put her feet in his lap. “Pull,” she said, lifting her hips.

Dustin grabbed the cuff of her jeans, and they slipped
from her hips. Heavy-lidded eyes locked on the thin scrap of fabric
masquerading as underwear. Feeling as frantic as Dustin appeared, she stripped
them off then she climbed back over the console, completely naked and straddled
him once again. Lips sought lips. He kissed her hard and demanding, sliding his
tongue into her mouth at the same time the blunt tip of his finger slipped into
her drenched curls and traced the heated slit of her mound.

“Please.” She whimpered, and he traced her hole,
drawing moisture onto his fingertip and painting her clit. Rolling her hips,
she chased his finger. “Now.” She rocked hard, and he plunged his finger deep
inside her drenched channel. “Oh, yes.” He twisted, turned, flicking against
the sensitive inner walls. Cream coated his finger.

His erratic breath bathed her face. She gasped with
each plunge of his finger. Foreheads touched. She inhaled his exhale.

“You’re so tight.” A second finger joined the first.
Easing back the hood with his thumb, he grazed her clit.

Arching her back, she plunged hard onto his fingers.
Not enough. She needed him. Rough, controlling, demanding. She needed to be fucked
by the hard assed detective that stormed into her life, into her bed, and damn
it, into her heart. “Fuck me, Dustin.” She lifted off his fingers and tugged on
the zipper of his jeans. “I can’t. Damn.” The front of his jeans was tight with
his bulging erection.

“Let me.” He brushed her hands aside and aggressively
unzipped his jeans. His cock jutted from a thatch of dark springy hair.
Moisture seeped from the tip. She touched the velvety skin then wrapped her
fingers around the heated length and stroked him with slow yet firm pressure.

He growled and slammed his eyes closed.

Leaning forward, she sipped his lips. “I want you
inside me.” She leveraged up and poised his cock at her slitted entrance.

Breathing harshly, he grasped her hips, and in one
quick stroke, lunged into her. Impaled full hilt, he pulled her close and
forcefully claimed her lips. He thrust deep, her heated sheath gripping him
tight, and swallowed her cry. She rocked faster and her lashes fluttered
closed. Nothing could have prepared her for his voracious demands. He bucked
into her cunt in a maddening motion. She whimpered, her quivering walls taking
his fierce, relentless drives. Thrust and retreat, fucking her roughly.

A growl rolled from his throat, and the punishing
intensity lessened. Nothing separated them. Her breasts jiggled, rasping
against the soft cotton of his T-shirt. In the confined space of the car, she
lifted and lowered on his thick shaft. His hands fisted in her hair, then
caressed her neck, trailing along her spine, finally cupping her buttocks.
McKenna met his demand. Harder, with more downward thrust. Muscles quivered. In
a flash, her internal walls convulsed. Stars exploded behind her eyes. His
burning length seared her drenched flesh. Sizzling intensity washed over her.
Waves of contractions gloved to Dustin. She gasped, relishing in the release as
her nails cut into his shoulders.

“Fuck.” Strained muscles in his arms bunched. Strong
fingers gripped her hips and anchored her tight to his groin. His cock
stretched, pressing against the top of her channel. His hungry moans sent her
spiraling. Her orgasm built again, juices drenching her core.

“Oh, Dustin.” Her hands braced against the steel seam
of the ragtop. Taking on a rhythm of their own, her hips jerked back and forth.
“Oh, god. Oh, yes!”

With a roar, Dustin slammed his head against the
headrest. His lips pulled back, and breath hissed through clenched teeth. Every
muscle tensed beneath her fingertips. He shafted her cunt, milking his cock in
her convulsing channel. Sweat trickled from his temples, and his face reddened.
Finally, he depleted his energy and the storm of his orgasm ebbed. He brushed
damp tendrils of hair from her temple.

McKenna rolled her forehead on the fogged up driver
side window. She could feel tears threatening to fill her eyes. She bit the
inside of her cheek, not wanting Dustin to misunderstand. It wasn’t remorse but
an ache deep inside that no one had ever touched.

She put her hands on his face and brought their lips
together, a caress of lips and blending of breath. Soft and tenderly, she
opened up for him. His arms tightened around her. Their panting relaxed into
breathing.

“We should go before the neighbors become suspicious
and call out the local black and whites,” he said.

“Mmm, okay.” She sat straighter. “I thought cops took
care of each other.” She scooted into the passenger seat and looked for her
panties. “You know, aren’t cops supposed to look the other way for cops. Let
you off the hook when you get stopped for speeding.” Her voice muffled as she
searched under the seat. “I bet you give your partner’s wife a break when she
runs through a red light.”

“My partner has been divorced three times, and he’d
kick my ass if I let his last wife off.”

“You know what I mean.” Finding what she was after,
she turned around in the seat. “What are you smiling about?” She shimmied her
panties up her thighs. “Well, I mean, I know what I’m smiling about, but you
look like you know something I don’t.” She put her feet into her jeans, raised
her hips, and tugged them on.

“My legs are numb,” he said matter-of-factly. “I’m
still in shock that one of the Marinos nearly put a cap in my ass—“