Anytime Darlin' (28 page)

Devlin leaned on the hood, arching her back to give him better access. Jake heard her suck in her breath and let it out on a moan. He pressed his erection against her, rubbing her clit through their jeans. Her moans grew louder and her hands clutched at his front pockets, pulling him even closer. She’d slipped off her sandals, and he could feel her heels against his buttocks, pushing him forward.

Jake drew her shirt over her head, and he knew her nipples would grow even harder now that they’d been exposed to the air. He reached a hand behind his neck and tugged off his own shirt. Devlin rubbed her bare chest back and forth across his, reaching a hand up to pinch his own hard bud of a nipple. Jake hissed then, leaned her back over his arm, and unerringly found her breast with his mouth. He sucked her, tasting her with his tongue, running the edge of his teeth along the beaded point. Turning his attention to her other breast, Jake’s cock throbbed at the soft noises coming from Devlin’s beautiful lips.

“Come here,” he said, lifting his head. He raised her up with one arm, her legs still wrapped around his waist, and lay his shirt over the hood of the car with the other. Then he stood her on her feet and quickly stripped off her jeans and her panties. He set her back up on the edge of the car, on top of his shirt and spread her legs, running his fingers between her smooth, silky folds, finding her opening. Jake slanted his mouth over hers, as he slid a finger inside her. He growled into her mouth, his tongue tangling with hers, while he explored her, languidly with his finger. Devlin’s breathing quickened.

She reached up and laid a hand on each side of his face, kissing him as though his mouth was a life preserver and she was drowning. His thumb reached her clit, his touch making her gasp. Jake began to rub slow circles around the swollen nub. Crying out against his mouth, Devlin tried to break off the kiss, but Jake used his free hand to hold the back of her head and anchor her mouth to his. He swallowed her cries.

He exposed her on the hood of a car beneath the stars, her legs spread in the warm night air, his mouth on hers. Devlin’s skin felt hot beneath his hands, like she was burning up. His finger slipped in and out, circling her, carrying her close to the peak, retreating, only to bring her back and retreat over and over again.

“Jake,” Devlin begged, “let me come. Please. God. Let me come.”

“Patience, baby, patience.”

Jake unzipped his jeans. He pressed hard against her. Despite her pleading, Jake didn’t enter her. His fingers continued moving. He wanted her close to the edge.

“I want to feel you come,” he whispered, “with my fingers and my cock. Come now, baby. Come for me.”

His words seem to shake off her last remnants of control. Jake thrust his cock inside her, slipping his finger in along his own length. Screaming now, Devlin came against both, her inner muscles trembling, her body almost jerking off the car. Jake wrapped an arm around her waist and held her steady, thrusting in and out of her in a gentle rhythm, until her orgasm subsided and she lay panting against his chest.

“My turn,” Jake rumbled. He took her hand and spread her fingers, bringing them to where their bodies joined. “Feel this. Feel us. Feel how soft you are.”

“You mean how hard you are,” Devlin mumbled into his neck.

“How perfect we are for each other.” Jake guided her fingers along his cock, wet with her sweet musk, as he rode her. He pressed her fingertip inside her own body, so she would know how she felt to him.

“Yes, darlin’. Yes. Just like that.” He thrust hard now, her finger running along the throbbing vein on the underside of his erection.

Jake crushed his mouth on hers, moaning deep in his throat. The word “control” was no longer in his vocabulary. At this moment, Jake’s vocabulary consisted of only one word. Devlin. She was his entire world.

* * * *

Devlin tried hard to wait. She wanted to come with Jake, but his thrusts were so powerful, so strong, and so deep that she fought a losing battle.
Oh my God,
Devlin thought. She couldn’t stop herself. She tore her lips from Jake’s and threw her head back, too overwhelmed to say a single word as she came. She heard him call her name, and she felt him grow even harder, if that was possible. The vein pulsed beneath her fingers, and then Jake buried himself deep inside her, coming hot and hard within her.

The night grew quiet. Crickets chirped. An owl hooted. It was a long time before either of them moved.

“So,” said Devlin with a soft laugh as Jake withdrew from her and zipped his jeans, “I guess that qualifies as foreplay.”

Jake began to chuckle. He lifted Devlin’s chin and kissed her lips. “I hope I lived up to your expectations.”

“Yes,” she replied, leaning her forehead against his. “Oh, yes.” After a moment she added, “Why am I always the naked one?”

Jake’s laughter rumbled from his chest. He picked Devlin up off the car and helped her to dress. He pulled the keys out of the ignition. Despite Devlin’s shrieks of protest, he swung her over his shoulder and stumbled with her through the dark yard toward the house. He laughed all the way to the door.

Just before dawn, Jake dozed off. Devlin rose from their bed. Trying hard not to wake him, she tugged on an old pair of boxers and a cutoff tee shirt. She padded through the house on bare feet, drawing the curtains closed in every room but the kitchen, hoping to keep the August sun out long enough to let them sleep in. After all, she and Jake had nowhere to be, and they’d just spent the night making love. Dev smiled to herself. Her little house didn’t have that many rooms, but they’d made good use of them all, including the clawfoot tub in her bathroom. As she passed the front door, she noticed that neither of them had thought to lock it. Out of habit, she flipped the bolt into place. She doubted her neighbor would come in the house when he saw her car in the drive, but she knew how embarrassed he’d be if he inadvertently walked in on the two of them. Devlin returned to the bedroom and pulled the sheet over Jake’s naked body before she snuggled against him. He was the most beautiful man she’d ever known. And he was all hers.

Janice woke up early. The motel bed was terribly uncomfortable, but she wouldn’t have slept well in any case. Not after yesterday. She’d left Trevor with her dad and Cindy and driven to Canon City last night. Sometimes, a girl just needed her mom, even if her mom was a felon. Janice snorted. What a couple of losers they were. At least she had Trevor. Her mom had nobody except for her, and their relationship could be described as strained at best. It didn’t matter. Janice wanted to see her mom. After what happened yesterday with Jake and Devlin, Janice decided to take a mental health day. She needed to finalize the details for her mom’s release anyway. Janice showered and headed to the nearest diner for some breakfast. She grabbed a newspaper and lingered over her coffee. She had an hour to kill before the prison opened for visitors.

Janice had fixed up her spare bedroom for her mother, and she’d been in contact with her mother’s probation officer. For some odd reason, her mother had recently become vague and noncommittal about their plans. Maybe she was simply afraid to come out.

That must be it, Janice thought. Her mother must be afraid to rejoin the world. Her life would be so different. Rebecca “Bitsy” Matheson, a paroled felon in her early fifties, would have to begin all over again. Janice sighed. When she visited two weeks ago, her mother looked very thin. Her mother was worried about her release—that must be it.

Janice drove to the prison, parked in the designated lot, stuck the identifying number on her windshield, and waded patiently through the check-in process. It was a nice morning, and the guard offered to bring her mother out to the courtyard. Janice waited at a picnic table in the shade. She’d brought her mother several chocolate bars and a new toothbrush, the two items she’d asked for at Janice’s last visit, brands they didn’t sell in the small prison store.

When her mother appeared in the gateway, Janice was struck by how frail she looked, how much she’d aged in four years. Bitsy had been a striking woman before this happened, similar in appearance to Janice. People often mistook them for sisters. Not anymore. Nobody would mistake them for sisters. Janice sighed as she got up to meet her.

“Where’s Trevor?” were the first words out of her mother’s mouth.

“He’s with a sitter for the day.” Janice hedged. She didn’t want to bring up her father and his new, young wife.

“Oh,” Bitsy replied, lapsing into silence.

“Here, Mom, I brought you the things you asked for.” Janice pushed the chocolate bars and the toothbrush in her direction. “How are you doing?”

“Oh, fine.” She pulled the items toward her. “Thank you, dear.”

“Mom, we need to discuss your release next week. I’ll be here to pick you up. In fact, I’ll be here early. I’ve got the bedroom all ready for you. I’ve unpacked most of your clothes, and we can go shopping for anything else you need.”

“Oh,” answered Bitsy, looking off in the distance, “that won’t be necessary, dear.”

“Of course it’s necessary, Mom. I can take a couple days off, and we can shop for whatever you want. You’re going to need some new things.”

“Oh, no, I won’t need to stay with you.”

“Mom,” said Janice, “Mom, you’re staying with me. It’s all set. I’ve already spoken with your parole officer.”

“Who?” asked Bitsy, confused.

Janice was very disconcerted. Her mother appeared so disoriented.

“Your parole officer, remember? You’ll be on probation for four years. It’s one of the conditions of your early release,” prompted Janice.

“Oh, no, dear, that won’t be necessary,” she repeated. “I won’t be here.”

Janice felt like pulling her hair out. “Mom, you’ll be here. You have to stay here and report to your parole officer on a regular basis. Mom, you have to stay with me. You don’t have anywhere else to live.”

“Yes, I do, dear. I’ll be living with Bill in the Caribbean.”

Janice sat back on the bench. She could not believe what she was hearing. She had to speak with the psychiatrist today.

“Bill?” she asked. “Mom, what on earth are you talking about? Bill who?”

“Why, Bill, dear.” Bitsy leaned her head close to Janice’s as she whispered, “You know, Bill. Bill Franz.”

Oh my God,
Janice thought. Her mom had totally lost it. She took her hand.

“Mom,” Janice said, “listen to me. You will not be living with Bill Franz. William Franz is not here. He’s in Asia somewhere. Nobody knows where he is. And if they did know, he’d be in prison.”
Or dead,
Janice thought to herself.

Janice’s mother smiled. It was the first time Janice had seen her smile in months. She patted Janice’s hand and then leaned close. She whispered conspiratorially, “I know where he is, dear. He’s right here.”

Janice felt sick. She looked around, but all she saw were other families and the guards.

“No, dear, he’s not here.” Her mother giggled like a schoolgirl. “He’s in Colorado. He came to see me two weeks ago. He told me he’ll be waiting for me when I get out. He picked up the money we put away.”

“Mom, this is a joke, right?” asked Janice, hoping against hope that her mother was still sane.

“I wouldn’t joke about something like this,” said Bitsy, indignant now. “Bill came to see me two weeks ago. We had a wonderful talk. I’ll be leaving with him when I get out, and that’s all there is to it.”

“Be reasonable, Mother,” insisted Janice. “This is a prison. How could William Franz get in here to see you?”

Janice watched, incredulous, as Bitsy erupted in giggles again.

“Your father,” she whispered. “He pretended to be your father.”

Janice’s heart began to pound in her chest. Her father, Ben Matheson, had never been to see her mother, not once, though he’d been cleared and was on her visitors’ list.

Janice stood up. “Mom…Mom, can I leave you here for a minute? Will you be okay on your own?”

“Of course, dear, it’s a lovely day.” Bitsy crossed her legs. Folding her hands, she stared off though the fence.

Janice hurried to the guard who had escorted her mother to the courtyard.

“I need to talk to the warden,” she insisted, her voice strained. “It’s an emergency. I need to talk to the warden.”

“About?” asked the guard.

“My mother,” Janice answered. “A visitor she claims she had two weeks ago. This is extremely important. Please understand. I have to speak to the warden. It’s urgent.”

* * * *

Warden Bruce Jenkins stared at a pile of paperwork. He’d just returned from two weeks’ bereavement leave. His father had died suddenly. It took over a week to go through his papers, complete the insurance forms and get his mother moved into his sister’s home in St. Louis. Finding it hard to concentrate, he almost felt relieved when he heard a knock at his door.

“Excuse me, Warden.” It was one of the guards, one of the new men. What was his name? Cotter. Evan Cotter.

“What is it, Evan?”

“I have a visitor here. Rebecca Matheson’s daughter. She says she needs to speak with you, that it’s an emergency.”

“Direct her to the unit supervisor,” Warden Jenkins instructed him. “I’m sure she can handle it.”

“Sorry, Warden, I don’t mean to disagree, but she discussed it with me on the way up, and I think you need to hear this.”

“All right.” He pushed the paperwork aside. “Show her in.”

Evan escorted in a lovely, tall, dark-haired woman. She was absolutely breathtaking. The warden rose to his feet. He stuck out a hand.

“I’m Bruce Jenkins,” he said, shaking hers. “And you are?”

“Janice Matheson,” she replied.

“Have a seat, Miss Matheson.” He directed her to a chair. “What can I do for you?”

“Warden Jenkins, do you know why my mother’s here?”

He almost laughed. He knew why all his inmates were here, but he kept a straight face.

“Yes,” he replied, “I know why your mother is here. She was involved with William Franz. He’s suspected in the murder of six people. He raped his own niece, and he stole several hundred thousand dollars from his clients. Your mother helped him hide his money.”