Your fucking
hard-on says it clearly enough,” she muttered with a sarcastic smile. He should
have let it go, but he didn’t like arrogance and she was loaded with it at the
moment.
“I’m turned on imagining a woman I do want—and she’s not
you. I don’t want to see you anymore.”
She turned toward the door with an irritated huff but
wheeled on him before she passed over the threshold. “Odd she’s not here then,
hmm? Isn’t it fun to want what you can’t have?”
He glared at her. “Leave.” His voice was seething. What
business did he have expecting anything less from her? He was dumping her and
she’d come over expecting to get laid.
He watched her walk to her car, feeling defeated. Well that
settled that. He was definitely not going to be convincing himself he could get
past her anytime soon. And he was never going to get laid again at this rate.
When he hopped in his shower he stared at the tile wall in
front of him. He couldn’t quite wrap his head around why he couldn’t let this
one go. It wasn’t the chase. He wasn’t one of those guys who only wanted the un-gettable
get. He wanted to get and keep her. He wanted to end this fucking case and have
her and not have to let her go. And he wanted that to happen without her
getting hurt in the process because he wasn’t quite sure he could handle that.
Her file was sitting on his desk and as he walked back into
his bedroom naked after toweling off, he grabbed it and flopped down on his
bed. He read the report, he read her statements, he reviewed his notes, he
reviewed the transcription of the message that had been left on her answering
machine and he studied her pictures. There were more pictures than they would
likely ever need but he looked at each and every one closely. He studied the
injuries as his heart pounded. The bruises and scuffs had faded significantly
since then but seeing the fresh marks on her body in graphic, high-definition
color left his anxiety soaring.
Then he let his gaze study her eyes. There were so many
close-ups of her face that showed her eyes. She had incredible round blue eyes
and they glistened with barely restrained emotion in the pictures. His mind
left him again and he imagined her pleasuring herself in just the way the
lunatic had spoken of.
He’d watched her. Dillon didn’t doubt it one bit. He’d seen
how she fucked herself when there was no man in her life and as he flipped from
one picture to another, seeking out her wide stunning eyes, he imagined it.
He could hear the sounds she would make in his head—the wet,
slick smacking sounds as she plunged her dildo in and out of her pussy—and when
he finally lit on one particular picture, he stared. He dropped the others to
the folder and held this one above his face. Her eyes were looking straight at
the camera when this one had been taken, unlike the others where her eyes were
shifted off to some spot in the distance. But not this one.
Her eyes were looking at the camera and by extension of that
right into his eyes. He studied and he heard her moans of pleasure in his mind.
He imagined her saying his name as she writhed beneath his body and he stared
at that damn picture. His cock was hard and painfully engorged.
All it took was a picture and a bit of imagination and he
was ready to explode. He stroked up and down the length of his erection,
wanting his release. He just had to get her out of his system. He couldn’t let
himself believe this was all about her. He couldn’t let himself think he could
care about this woman he barely knew. He simply couldn’t let himself want
something that was so fucking off-limits.
But when he came, he was uttering her name over and over and
over and as the last of his seed was spent on his stomach as his muscles
clenched and contracted, he was forced to admit this was absolutely all about
her.
Her picture stared back at him as he gasped and stroked
through the last of his release. “Fuck.”
He muttered to himself
hard-on says it clearly enough,” she muttered with a sarcastic smile. He should
have let it go, but he didn’t like arrogance and she was loaded with it at the
moment.
“I’m turned on imagining a woman I do want—and she’s not
you. I don’t want to see you anymore.”
She turned toward the door with an irritated huff but
wheeled on him before she passed over the threshold. “Odd she’s not here then,
hmm? Isn’t it fun to want what you can’t have?”
He glared at her. “Leave.” His voice was seething. What
business did he have expecting anything less from her? He was dumping her and
she’d come over expecting to get laid.
He watched her walk to her car, feeling defeated. Well that
settled that. He was definitely not going to be convincing himself he could get
past her anytime soon. And he was never going to get laid again at this rate.
When he hopped in his shower he stared at the tile wall in
front of him. He couldn’t quite wrap his head around why he couldn’t let this
one go. It wasn’t the chase. He wasn’t one of those guys who only wanted the un-gettable
get. He wanted to get and keep her. He wanted to end this fucking case and have
her and not have to let her go. And he wanted that to happen without her
getting hurt in the process because he wasn’t quite sure he could handle that.
Her file was sitting on his desk and as he walked back into
his bedroom naked after toweling off, he grabbed it and flopped down on his
bed. He read the report, he read her statements, he reviewed his notes, he
reviewed the transcription of the message that had been left on her answering
machine and he studied her pictures. There were more pictures than they would
likely ever need but he looked at each and every one closely. He studied the
injuries as his heart pounded. The bruises and scuffs had faded significantly
since then but seeing the fresh marks on her body in graphic, high-definition
color left his anxiety soaring.
Then he let his gaze study her eyes. There were so many
close-ups of her face that showed her eyes. She had incredible round blue eyes
and they glistened with barely restrained emotion in the pictures. His mind
left him again and he imagined her pleasuring herself in just the way the
lunatic had spoken of.
He’d watched her. Dillon didn’t doubt it one bit. He’d seen
how she fucked herself when there was no man in her life and as he flipped from
one picture to another, seeking out her wide stunning eyes, he imagined it.
He could hear the sounds she would make in his head—the wet,
slick smacking sounds as she plunged her dildo in and out of her pussy—and when
he finally lit on one particular picture, he stared. He dropped the others to
the folder and held this one above his face. Her eyes were looking straight at
the camera when this one had been taken, unlike the others where her eyes were
shifted off to some spot in the distance. But not this one.
Her eyes were looking at the camera and by extension of that
right into his eyes. He studied and he heard her moans of pleasure in his mind.
He imagined her saying his name as she writhed beneath his body and he stared
at that damn picture. His cock was hard and painfully engorged.
All it took was a picture and a bit of imagination and he
was ready to explode. He stroked up and down the length of his erection,
wanting his release. He just had to get her out of his system. He couldn’t let
himself believe this was all about her. He couldn’t let himself think he could
care about this woman he barely knew. He simply couldn’t let himself want
something that was so fucking off-limits.
But when he came, he was uttering her name over and over and
over and as the last of his seed was spent on his stomach as his muscles
clenched and contracted, he was forced to admit this was absolutely all about
her.
Her picture stared back at him as he gasped and stroked
through the last of his release. “Fuck.”
He muttered to himself
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