He slid his hand down to her clit. At least he could give her this.
He slipped a finger onto her clit and started rubbing in perfect circles, the movement timed to his fucking. His finger and his dick worked in perfect precision. He couldn’t keep her, but he could have a few weeks of joy. He could hold her and love her while she was here. He could please her and care for her so much that one day she might come back to him.
Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes. Jen’s mouth came open, and she came on a low wail. He met her stare in the mirror, trying to memorize the experience. His balls squeezed up, lighting a fire in his body as he fucked her. It would be so lonely without her, but he wouldn’t cheat on her. That’s what it would be. She was his soul’s mate, and the least he could give her was his fidelity.
The orgasm flashed through his body, flaring every nerve in his system. He grasped her hips, pulling her onto his cock one last time, as though trying to fuse them together in a way that could never be broken.
He came, the cum leaving his body in smooth jets of silky pleasure. He pushed again and again, giving her everything he had.
Finally empty, he fell forward, his cock slipping from the sweet comfort of her ass. He pulled her close, turning her so her chest met his, the clamps a reminder that, for a while, she was truly his. Her hands came up, smoothing back his hair.
“God, I love you so much, Stef.”
“I love you, too.” The words dropped from his lips before he could think to not say them. They fell between them like a loaded gun in Stef’s mind.
Jen merely smiled and brushed his lips lightly with hers. “I know, babe. I know.”
Stef wrapped his arms around her, and tossed a leg over hers so that he surrounded her body with his. He knew he probably seemed like a spoiled child attempting to utterly brand a toy as his, but he couldn’t help it. He wanted to sleep like this, jealously guarding her against everything that might come their way.
“You’ll have to forgive him, you know.” She nestled her head into the crook of his shoulder.
He didn’t pretend to misunderstand. She was talking about his father. “I don’t see why.”
She was quiet for a moment, and he couldn’t help but think she was disappointed in him. It made him restless even as his blood pounded in languid afterglow.
“Why do you think he deserves forgiveness?” He wanted her opinion. He rarely asked for help in making a decision. He was very decisive, but she seemed so certain that he was wrong in this case.
Her face turned up, and the sleepy satisfaction in her eyes hit him straight in the gut. “Silly, I don’t think he deserves it. You do, babe.
Forgive him, because you might not have the chance to later. Forgive him. Forgive your mother. Let it go so we can move on. I promise I’ll help you.”
She settled her head against his again. Stef held her and thought about whether or not she would ever forgive him.
Chapter Fifteen
Alexei sat up from the strangely comfortable cot as the door to the station house came open and a large man with black hair and scars on his face walked in, followed by the woman named Callie. The big man had been the one who’d swept her out of the station earlier.
Alexei was confused. He’d thought the sheriff was her husband, but the other man had kissed her passionately and spoken to her, obviously concerned with her every comfort.
“Damn it, Zane.” The sheriff looked up from his mountain of paperwork and scowled as the couple entered. “I thought you were going to take care of her.”
“Yeah, well, Callie wanted to make sure the Russian prick got fed.” Zane was holding a bag in his hand.
Alexei’s stomach growled as the heavenly scent hit him.
Callie slapped the big guy lightly on his chest. “Be nice.”
“I’m with Nate. He pulled a gun on you.”
“He pulled a gun on Jen,” Callie corrected. “The dead guy pulled a gun on me, and then Alexei here saved me.” She smiled and winked at him. Alexei’s heart softened further. It had been so long since he’d had a moment’s softness. This Callie woman had a soft heart. She practically glowed with forgiveness.
“I am filled with apologies.” Alexei couldn’t say it enough.
“Yeah, well, be glad you’re not filled with lead, buddy.” Zane strode across the room and held the bag out. “If I’d been there, you would be just as dead as your friend.”
“Zane Hollister!”
The sheriff was leaning back in his chair, obviously enjoying the show. “I told you he would have reacted exactly the way I did.” Zane rounded on the pair. “No, I would have shot his ass.” The sheriff’s eyes hooded, and he sat up, straightening his spine.
“I’m actually glad I didn’t, Zane. He’s…different than I would have expected.”
Alexei listened in as the sheriff began to detail a bit of his own past to the other man. He’d spent several hours talking to the sheriff, a tape recorder between them. The sheriff had taken copious notes, and Alexei had been surprised to find that the man’s attitude shifted as he spoke.
He pulled the burger out of the bag. It was juicy and perfectly American. Alexei bit into it and thought it might be the best bit of food he’d ever tasted. When had he stopped enjoying the simple pleasures of life?
“See,” Callie was saying, “he’s not unlike the two of you. If your brother had been horribly murdered, you would have sought revenge.”
“I don’t have a brother,” Zane shot back with a stubborn edge to his voice.
There was a moment of silence. It was filled with meaning as the two men stared at each other as though speaking silently. Alexei watched, fascinated, as Zane shook his head.
“Fine. But I don’t have to like him.” Zane turned on his boots and strode back to the cell, coming within feet of Alexei. “Thank you for saving our wife.”
Alexei felt his eyebrows rise. Maybe his English was worse than he thought. “It was all I could to do. I could not harm the women.
They were innocent. It was not worth the revenge.”
“Well, I thank you for shooting your friend, anyway.” Alexei searched his brain for the proper American words.
Americans always knew how to describe an asshole. “He was not good friend. He was, how you say, a bag of douches.”
The sheriff laughed outright, and Zane’s mouth tugged up. “At least he has the lingo down.”
“He’s hell to understand, man. You should have been here.”
“Don’t make fun of him,” Callie chided. She took her place next to Zane, her arm hooking around his waist. “Your English is very good, Alexei. It’s way better than Nate’s Russian. And you barely have an accent.”
Zane snorted, but Alexei didn’t take it as an insult. He swallowed another heavenly bite of perfectly cooked burger. “I am thanking you for the hospitality. This is good booger. Best booger I ever to eat.” Zane glanced down at Callie. “Yeah, no accent at all, babe. It’s like he came straight out of Iowa.”
The door to the station opened again, and a big, broad man with reddish brown hair pounded in, brushing the snow off his coat and brandishing a file folder like a weapon. He walked straight to the sheriff’s desk and slapped it down. Caleb. Alexei wanted to shrink back. He’d spent an afternoon on the ice with this man. He was a bit gruff, but Alexei had admired how patient he’d been with the boys they had taught. He’d admired much about the man. He rather wished Caleb didn’t have to know what he’d done. Meeting Caleb had been the first time in years and years that he’d come close to making a friend.