Bound to Her - Deborah Pin (books for 9th graders .TXT) 📗

should or shouldn’t, against policy

or not. And if he could go through with this then the right he decided belonged to him to make that judgment for her wasn’t a right he

deserved. And he wanted that right.

He was suddenly plagued with images of Jason fucking her. He saw

himself standing outside her bedroom like the fucking psychopath likely

had, watching them. He could hear the sound of her groaning as he pushed into her body. He could hear her moaning the man’s name and

when he let his mind wander painfully to the sight of them in her bed, he

had to turn from Mindy to face his kitchen sink as the pain of it hit him

square in the gut.

She was waiting patiently for him and he stared at the stupid

unopened beer he held in his hand before finally setting it on the counter

and ignoring it. Mindy’s hands reached for his waist, wrapping around

him from behind and his breath caught in his throat at her touch. He could feel her breasts against his back as she pushed her body against his

but it was too late. He was in hell, fighting the images of Katrina with Jason, and he grabbed Mindy’s hands, unpeeling them from his body

and turning to her.

“What the hell has gotten into you?” She was starting to sound

defensive.

“I’m sorry, Mindy. I need you to leave. I can’t do this.” His throat was

tight as he said the words.

She looked stunned for a moment but then she turned on the

seductive again and reached for his body. “I don’t believe you.”

Her hand started at his waist and he turned his head from her but he

didn’t stop her. Her hand slipped down to cup the bulge in his pants that

was betraying his mind. But his arousal wasn’t for her. It was an arousal

that only existed from the tormenting images of Katrina in bed with Jason and it was an arousal that he hated because it came from painful yet enticing images.

He stepped away from her reach and walked toward the front door as

her eyes trailed after him. He shouldn’t have agreed to let her come over

and it was his fault this was happening but she was going to piss him off

fast if she didn’t get the hint. He needed her gone. When he reached the

front door he held the door open and waited.

She took her time following him and she eyed him with a cold glare

as she approached.

“Why are you doing this? I know you want this. 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.”

Chapter Twelve

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 as he set the picture on the folder, closed it and tossed it to the floor beside his bed. He was more frustrated than tired by the time he turned the light out, and he stared into the darkness

for nearly fifteen minutes. He hated that she was there alone. He was glad they had an officer at her house but he knew it was hard on her to

be there alone and he couldn’t stand the idea of her being frightened.

When he snatched up his cell, he tried to stop his fingers from typing.

He was overstepping a line and there was no denying it. He sent a text

asking if she was awake and it was mere seconds before the response said she was.

He dialed her number, his pulse quickening with every number he

pushed. “Hi.” She sounded hesitant, worried.

“Hi.” He wasn’t quite sure what to say beyond that. He’d not gotten

that far into his plan. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Don’t you ever sleep?” There was a slight sarcasm in her voice and

he calmed at the sound of her humor.

“No but not for the same reasons as you. I’m just used to the

interruptions.”

“Yeah well, I like my sleep and I don’t like that it’s so damn hard to

now.”

“I really do think you should stay with your friend Imogen. You

know you’d be more comfortable.”

“I can’t. Kitty is here and I’d just end up driving back and forth every

day to take care of her. And—I just can’t.”

“So take Kitty to Imogen’s place.”

“Well I would but she kind of …pokes at her a little.” She was being

cute but he could sense she was also being serious to some extent and his

body was tingling at nothing more than the sound of her voice. “I think

she thinks she’s petting her but she pokes. There’s just no other explanation. It’s odd, I’ll give you that, but she’s never had pets.”

“That’s weird.” His voice trailed off at the bizarre image in his mind

of the quirky Brit poking poor old Kitty.

“Yeah. Yeah it is.”

He chuckled and she sighed. The tension was gone. It was gone from

her voice and it was gone from his body. However strained it had been

earlier in the day, it was melting away. She wasn’t angry at him. She could be—she likely should be. He’d interrupted her life and barged in on her when he had no good reason to. But she wasn’t.

“I’m sorry about the other night when I touched you.” Her voice was

quiet and laced with insecurity and his warm chuckle that he was

enjoying so much after so much tension froze in his throat. “I put you in

a bad position and—”

“It wasn’t any more your fault than it was mine.” He heard her inhale

a deep slow breath before letting it out just as slowly. He caught himself

holding his breath, waiting for her to say something else. There was nothing else to say but it didn’t stop him from wanting to hear her.

“I should go.” But she didn’t make any further move to end the

conversation and she was just silent. He was too. He wasn’t ready to say

good night to her but he didn’t know what to say to keep her talking—

and frankly there was nothing he should say and keeping her on the line

wasn’t a concern he should have with her.

The silence became uncomfortable and long and eventually, he

opened his mouth and forced the words out. “Good night, Kat. Call me if

you need anything.”

 

“I need you.” She whispered the words pathetically in response to his

comment. She could never say it were he actually there but he was already gone. He’d hung up and she was alone again in her quiet house.

Her night table lamp was on but the house was otherwise dark. She had

to figure out some way to get some sleep or she was going to go crazy again and who knows what she’d do in her delirium this time—lick his

face the next time she saw him perhaps or worse.

She flipped the light off and curled up on her side, pulling the heavy

quilt up and over her head, letting only her face peek out. She felt safer in the dark. She always had. She never understood fear of the dark. You could hide in the dark in a way you couldn’t in the light and even as a

child she’d always known that.

She had so many memories of doing just this as a little girl. Her fears

weren’t real then the way they were now but this was how she’d always

managed it.

She lay still under the weight of her blanket, listening to the quiet.

She’d almost prefer some noise. Silence only magnified