Count on Me
Page 90
“There we go.” He kissed her belly and then got to his feet, helping Caroline to hers as well. “I think you need to bend over the bed. Arms above your head. I don’t have my belt to keep you in place so you’ll have to imagine it binding your wrists together.”
On slightly wobbly knees, she walked to the bed and did as he’d told her.
“This is the perfect reason to keep my bed this height.”
He put a step stool under her feet so it was more comfortable and lined up once he’d gotten a condom on.
“Christ. You’re so beautiful this way. All your curves.” He caressed her hips as he slowly thrust into her until he was seated fully. “Your hair is spread all over your back and shoulders. So pretty. Your skin, damn. You’re just swoops and swirls and curves. It does me in.”
She closed her eyes. He saw her. He looked at her and he saw beauty and worth and she felt it. Royal was not only exciting and sexy, he was her safe place.
“I love you,” she said right as he made her come again, reaching around her body as he continued to stroke deep and steady.
He groaned. “Feels so good when you come around my c**k like this.” The hand he’d had at her hip tightened, his fingers digging into her flesh, holding her exactly how he wanted as he sped, keeping deep, and came.
He bent, brushed a kiss over her uninjured shoulder and bit. “Love you too.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
The drive over to Riverton was pleasant enough. It wasn’t overly far, and Joyce Marie lived in one of the more established subdivisions just about a mile from the courthouse. She drove down this stretch of road at least once every two weeks on her way into town.
They parked at the curb, and Caroline carried the box of doughnuts past the main house and up to Joyce Marie’s front door. Shane knocked and shortly thereafter the door opened to reveal a wildly barking dachshund and a very tall elderly woman with a crown of pale, white hair she’d braided down her back.
“Hello, Mrs. Petitbone? I’m Caroline Mendoza and this is Shane Chase. Shane is the chief of police in Petal. I believe you spoke with Ron Rogers yesterday?”
“Snickers, if you don’t hush up I’m going to lock you in the bedroom and then you won’t have any company.” The dog seemed rather unimpressed but he lowered his volume and gave his owner side eye. Joyce Marie turned her attention back to Caroline. “I see you brought a bakery box. What’s in it?”
“A dozen old-fashioned doughnuts from the Honey Bear. Freshly baked at six this morning.”
Joyce Marie nodded and then opened her screen door. “All right then. Come on in. You, big shoulders, just sit right there in the chair and look pretty while I talk to Caroline. You can eat doughnuts and drink some coffee though.”
Caroline hid her grin as Shane withheld a sigh. “Thank you, Mrs. Petitbone. We sure do appreciate your time.” He sat and she poured him some coffee and handed the cup his way.
“Milk and sugar right there. Plates for the doughnuts too.” Then she turned to Caroline. “Sit down. My goodness you have your daddy’s hair and eyes, but you sure do favor your mother. I used to go out to their diner every Sunday after church. Your father made such great roasted chicken. Funny the things we remember all these years later. So let me tell you the story. I’m sure you have a busy life. Mr. Rogers said you’re an attorney?”
Caroline nodded.
“Your parents would have been proud.”
“My father was still alive when I got my degree. He was very proud.”
Joyce Marie sighed. “I surely am sorry for all the loss you’ve seen.”
Caroline got Joyce Marie a cup of coffee, which earned a smile and a compliment about her manners.
“Sixteen years ago. And I can remember it really clearly because it was early November, near Halloween, and so numbnuts all over the neighborhood had firecrackers and kept lighting them off like it was brain surgery.” Joyce Marie shook her head. “My sweet PBC—short for peanut butter cup—hated the noise. So I’d been keeping him inside but he got out as cats are sometimes bound and determined to do. PBC was a mutt of a housecat. Brown all over but he had these orange/ginger spots. Like peanut butter and chocolate. My husband brought him home as a kitten. He’s gone now. The husband and the cat. But anyway, I’d been keeping an eye out for that cat to get him back inside. He hadn’t come back all day. I was dead tired and wanted to go to sleep, but I was too nervous with the darned cat still out. Finally I heard meowing at the back so I went to let him in. And that’s when I saw my neighbor hosing himself off in the side yard that abutted his house and mine.
“I thought it was odd. It was early November, like I said, so it was chilly that night. Way too cold to be using the hose outside. But being strange isn’t any of my business. I brought the cat in, and about five minutes later I saw he’d left a bloody paw print in the kitchen. I cleaned him up, thinking he must have cut himself. I didn’t find anything. But cats, you see? They get up to all sorts of great adventures when they’re not around so he could have done anything. I was relieved he wasn’t hurt and I went to bed.”
She sipped her coffee and ate some more of her doughnut before continuing.
“The next morning I was up early and went out to fill the hummingbird feeder. Another reason I remember this is that the days were so warm and clear the hummingbirds were still around. But it had been dry so there was dust everywhere. Anyway. I had a multiple bird feeder hanging on the tree to the side of the house, and when I went up on the ladder, I saw a puddle over on the concrete pad running next to my neighbor’s house. The sun hadn’t reached the patch between the houses or it would have dried up. There was a stain on the grass too. I could make up a story about how I saw it so clearly from my yard, but the truth is I’m a nosy old lady and I went over to get a closer look and it sure as shootin’ looked like blood on the grass and on a corner of that concrete. I went back inside but it niggled at me all that day, and then when I went into town the following day, I heard about your mother’s death and I called the police that afternoon.” Joyce Marie looked to Shane.
On slightly wobbly knees, she walked to the bed and did as he’d told her.
“This is the perfect reason to keep my bed this height.”
He put a step stool under her feet so it was more comfortable and lined up once he’d gotten a condom on.
“Christ. You’re so beautiful this way. All your curves.” He caressed her hips as he slowly thrust into her until he was seated fully. “Your hair is spread all over your back and shoulders. So pretty. Your skin, damn. You’re just swoops and swirls and curves. It does me in.”
She closed her eyes. He saw her. He looked at her and he saw beauty and worth and she felt it. Royal was not only exciting and sexy, he was her safe place.
“I love you,” she said right as he made her come again, reaching around her body as he continued to stroke deep and steady.
He groaned. “Feels so good when you come around my c**k like this.” The hand he’d had at her hip tightened, his fingers digging into her flesh, holding her exactly how he wanted as he sped, keeping deep, and came.
He bent, brushed a kiss over her uninjured shoulder and bit. “Love you too.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
The drive over to Riverton was pleasant enough. It wasn’t overly far, and Joyce Marie lived in one of the more established subdivisions just about a mile from the courthouse. She drove down this stretch of road at least once every two weeks on her way into town.
They parked at the curb, and Caroline carried the box of doughnuts past the main house and up to Joyce Marie’s front door. Shane knocked and shortly thereafter the door opened to reveal a wildly barking dachshund and a very tall elderly woman with a crown of pale, white hair she’d braided down her back.
“Hello, Mrs. Petitbone? I’m Caroline Mendoza and this is Shane Chase. Shane is the chief of police in Petal. I believe you spoke with Ron Rogers yesterday?”
“Snickers, if you don’t hush up I’m going to lock you in the bedroom and then you won’t have any company.” The dog seemed rather unimpressed but he lowered his volume and gave his owner side eye. Joyce Marie turned her attention back to Caroline. “I see you brought a bakery box. What’s in it?”
“A dozen old-fashioned doughnuts from the Honey Bear. Freshly baked at six this morning.”
Joyce Marie nodded and then opened her screen door. “All right then. Come on in. You, big shoulders, just sit right there in the chair and look pretty while I talk to Caroline. You can eat doughnuts and drink some coffee though.”
Caroline hid her grin as Shane withheld a sigh. “Thank you, Mrs. Petitbone. We sure do appreciate your time.” He sat and she poured him some coffee and handed the cup his way.
“Milk and sugar right there. Plates for the doughnuts too.” Then she turned to Caroline. “Sit down. My goodness you have your daddy’s hair and eyes, but you sure do favor your mother. I used to go out to their diner every Sunday after church. Your father made such great roasted chicken. Funny the things we remember all these years later. So let me tell you the story. I’m sure you have a busy life. Mr. Rogers said you’re an attorney?”
Caroline nodded.
“Your parents would have been proud.”
“My father was still alive when I got my degree. He was very proud.”
Joyce Marie sighed. “I surely am sorry for all the loss you’ve seen.”
Caroline got Joyce Marie a cup of coffee, which earned a smile and a compliment about her manners.
“Sixteen years ago. And I can remember it really clearly because it was early November, near Halloween, and so numbnuts all over the neighborhood had firecrackers and kept lighting them off like it was brain surgery.” Joyce Marie shook her head. “My sweet PBC—short for peanut butter cup—hated the noise. So I’d been keeping him inside but he got out as cats are sometimes bound and determined to do. PBC was a mutt of a housecat. Brown all over but he had these orange/ginger spots. Like peanut butter and chocolate. My husband brought him home as a kitten. He’s gone now. The husband and the cat. But anyway, I’d been keeping an eye out for that cat to get him back inside. He hadn’t come back all day. I was dead tired and wanted to go to sleep, but I was too nervous with the darned cat still out. Finally I heard meowing at the back so I went to let him in. And that’s when I saw my neighbor hosing himself off in the side yard that abutted his house and mine.
“I thought it was odd. It was early November, like I said, so it was chilly that night. Way too cold to be using the hose outside. But being strange isn’t any of my business. I brought the cat in, and about five minutes later I saw he’d left a bloody paw print in the kitchen. I cleaned him up, thinking he must have cut himself. I didn’t find anything. But cats, you see? They get up to all sorts of great adventures when they’re not around so he could have done anything. I was relieved he wasn’t hurt and I went to bed.”
She sipped her coffee and ate some more of her doughnut before continuing.
“The next morning I was up early and went out to fill the hummingbird feeder. Another reason I remember this is that the days were so warm and clear the hummingbirds were still around. But it had been dry so there was dust everywhere. Anyway. I had a multiple bird feeder hanging on the tree to the side of the house, and when I went up on the ladder, I saw a puddle over on the concrete pad running next to my neighbor’s house. The sun hadn’t reached the patch between the houses or it would have dried up. There was a stain on the grass too. I could make up a story about how I saw it so clearly from my yard, but the truth is I’m a nosy old lady and I went over to get a closer look and it sure as shootin’ looked like blood on the grass and on a corner of that concrete. I went back inside but it niggled at me all that day, and then when I went into town the following day, I heard about your mother’s death and I called the police that afternoon.” Joyce Marie looked to Shane.
