Page 44 of Jon's Helter Skelter Cold Case

I slid out, did it again, watched as a new wave of pleasure hit him with all the finesse of a steamroller. Again. And again. Perfection. Pure, sensual perfection as I watched the man I loved more than anything come undone underneath me.

Donovan clawed the pillows, the headboard, the sheets—anything to help find purchase. He was deliciously close to climaxing, and honestly, so was I.

I deliberately pulled almost free, only the very tip of my cock still in him.

“No, don’t pull out!”

Making sure my angle was correct, I slammed back in with absolutely no finesse whatsoever. Ugh, that felt good. It felt more than good.

A cry escaped Donovan. He shuddered underneath me, his ass clenching tight around my cock, and it sucked me right into climaxing as well. I poured myself into him, hips jerking instinctively, my vision going dark around the edges as I spent myself.

Mmm, glorious. Blindfolded Donovan was absolutely too appealing for his own good. I simply must do this more often.

“Babe?”

Oh, right, I was collapsed over his back and still half in him. He couldn’t be comfortable like that. Problem was, my body was riding the wave of afterglow and absolutely not willing to move.

“Gimme a sec,” I requested, trying to summon the energy to move from somewhere.

“You can take a few minutes, I’m good. I just wanted to say, if this is how you react when I’m happy? Then I’m going to be happy from now on.”

This man, seriously. I lifted up enough to kiss his shoulder. “Deal.”

16

The problem with being oh-so-powerful me was that there was always this point in a case where I couldn’t help. In fact, me trying to help would actually cause problems, hence people would very nicely boot me out. At this stage, I was used to it, but it did make for a boring workday now and again.

Today was an exception to the general rule because today I had an apprentice to entertain me!

This apprentice thing was really working out in my favor.

Donovan wanted to get some paperwork done, which meant computer, and I shouldn’t be in the office. That left me and Abby to do our own thing, and for Donovan’s sake, I promised not to follow serial killers. We had something of a food mall-slash-park near the office, about a block over. It wasn’t a huge stretch of space, but it was large enough people would sometimes sit and eat lunch. I took Abby there, bought us some snow cones, and we did some “training.”

Training sounds so much better than killing time on the company dime, doesn’t it?

Abby ate her wedding cake snow cone, eyes zeroed in on a young mother with a baby on her hip. “Huh.”

There was a lot tohuhabout with her, so I prodded. “What?”

“The kid on her hip isn’t related to her directly. Looks like…a relative’s child?”

She was close. “Husband’s child.”

“Ohhh. Makes sense, yeah. There’s red lines all twisted up with the husband line. She’s really mad with him about something.”

So far she was doing great. “What does that red line connect to?”

“Uhh…” Abby squinted and took a bite of her snow cone before answering. “Is she planning on leaving him? There’s the sage green…of apprehension? Hot pink of disgust, that’s pulsing. Pumpkin orange of anticipation.”

“It’s a pretty good guess. Usually the combination of those three indicate a break in the relationship and she’s got an escape route planned. Just hasn’t put it in action yet.”

“Is the child an affair baby of the husband’s?”

“Hard to know without seeing the husband. Likely so, though. See how the hot pink line is connected to the child?”

“Ohhhh. Yeah, you’re right. She’s not mad at the kid, though.”

“She’s smart enough to realize the baby’s innocent in all this, but she can’t help but feel disgusted with the situation.”

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