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Texas Tornado (Freebirds Book 5) by Lani Lynn Vale (7)

Chapter 7

Teach your girl to shoot, because a restraining order is just a piece of paper.

-Life Lesson

Shiloh

“Hey there, Boris.” I said to my cat, who’d made himself at home in James’ kitchen sink.

“You know, that’s an industrial sized sink.” James supplied with a smile evident in his voice.

He stepped to the side of the counter and watched as Boris caught a drop of water that’d leaked out of the faucet. Which was normal for him. I never bother to leave him a bowl. I just turn the faucet on to where it’d drip every few minutes.

“He’s a big boy. I found him on the side of the road on one of my many walks home.” I explained. “He startled me, and I fell.”

He laughed, like I’d intended. “Why does that not surprise me?”

“It shouldn’t. I’m a very clumsy person. Although the only accident I’ve ever been in was when I backed into my first boyfriend’s car when I was sixteen. He smacked me, but then my brother kicked his ass and beat the shit out of his car with a sledge hammer.” I smiled wistfully.

James had a scowl the size of the Grand Canyon on his face. “I’d have done the same.”

“Yeah? Well, Cheyenne is a pretty wonderful woman. I sure wish I’d have gotten a chance to get to know her.” I agreed.

“Cheyenne wasn’t who I was talking about, but I do agree with you, she’s a pretty good sister. Why does it sound like you’re leaving?” He asked with another frown on his face.

I ignored that question. I’d taken the job with social services, but it was a temporary position, pending availability for a job opening, while a woman took medical leave after she’d given birth.

“I didn’t thank you yet, and I should. That was a pretty complicated shot.” I observed.

He nodded his head, a saddened look entering his eyes. “I was a sniper in the army. It was an easy shot. Try over three quarters of a mile away, and then get back to me. What time do you have to be at work in the morning?”

Guess he didn’t want to speak about blowing a guy’s head up like a watermelon dropping on to concrete. At least he wasn’t wearing the man’s brain like I was. Speaking of which, I needed a damn shower in the worst way.

“Nine. Can I use the shower?” I asked, then headed in the direction of the bathroom I’d glanced at earlier.

“What would you do if I’d have said no?” He asked drolly from behind me.

“Showered anyway, of course,” I smiled and flipped the light on in the bathroom before coming to a standstill, mouth open in fascination. “Wow!”

That’s all that came to mind when I saw the bathroom. In a way, it was fucking awesome, but it was a little much to handle at first.

“Yeah, Janie got to choose the decorations,” he laughed.

“Well, I have to say, that it is definitely interesting. She’s a little obsessed, though.” I laughed with him.

I couldn’t say that at six I was any better. However, where I was obsessed with My Little Pony, Janie was obsessed with motorcycles; which I guess was to be expected.

The bathroom was a plethora of Harley Davidson. Orange walls with black stripes. Motorcycle Fatheads adorned the wall behind the bathroom door. Motorcycle toothbrush holder and soap pump. The hand towels were black. Everything matched perfectly, that is until you got to one thing.

“Why the white curtain and rug? It seems a little out of place.” I said with a raised brow.

He bellowed with laughter now.

“Oh, you’ll see....” He said cryptically. “Towels are in the closet. Just shove all the toys to the side. I’ll go take a shower, too. Then we can figure out something for dinner.”

With that comment, he left, shutting the door quietly behind him.

The shower felt glorious. I scrubbed my skin until it turned a bright pink with a bar of soap that smelled like bubble gum. I washed my hair with Johnson’s baby shampoo, secretly enjoying the baby fresh scent.

Turning the shower off, I stepped out onto the white bath mat, and then closed the shower curtain behind me. Then I burst out laughing.

“Oh, my God!”

Janie’s only two things that didn’t match were the shower curtain and the rug. However, I could see why she’d bought them. I hadn’t noticed in the shower, but now that I’d turned around and got a good look at the curtain, I couldn’t miss the bloody handprint that showed up. Whether it was from the heat or the wetness, I didn’t know.

The bath mat was more of the same. Each drop of water showed up red, and you could clearly see two perfect prints of my feet from where I’d stepped on it when I got out of the shower. Each drip of water off my body only added to the effects.

How cool!

It wasn’t until I was done admiring Janie’s decorating skills, however, that I comprehended that I didn’t have anything to wear other than blood-splattered clothes. Sneaking out into the hallway with a towel wrapped securely around my chest, I tiptoed into James’ room in hopes of getting a t-shirt before he got out of his own bath.

His bathroom door was cracked slightly, and I could hear the pound of water hitting tile, and the sound of James moving around. It wasn’t until I got to James’ dresser that I realized that I could see through the crack in his door.

What I saw made me gasp. Whether in appreciation or apprehension, I didn’t know.

At first, I didn’t notice the man standing under the spray. I noticed the difference between his bathroom and Janie’s bathroom. White walls, black towels, and practically boring décor that managed to draw the eye, rather than bore it. There was no shower curtain in his, only a clear glass that went from ceiling just about waist level, and from there the glass became frosted.

James was standing there, water streaming from the faucet above his head, falling down his body in rivulets. Head hung. His muscular arms were up high above his head, holding on to the top of the glass with both hands. His chest was clear of any tattoos except for a lone crosshairs tattoo centered over a skull right over his heart. I could also clearly see the peak of something black sneaking up over his shoulder from his back.

He was wearing a pair of dog tags that fell to about pec level, drawing attention to his muscular chest, and rock hard abs. I followed the ridges of his stomach lower until my gaze was interrupted by the different colored glass. Disappointment settled in my gut as I wished that the stupid frosted glass wasn’t there. Then maybe I could see the other half of his body. Specifically the cock I’d felt through his clothes earlier when he was holding me.

While I was trying to will away the glass covering his lower half, one of his hands came down, rubbing down his chest, abs, and then lower. My eyes flew to his face, and I watched as his face went from blank, to a picture of pleasure in the next second.

He growled low in his throat, and I let my eyes devour his body. The motion of his hand behind the frosted glass could only be one thing. His hand was moving slow at first, and I watched as the muscles in his arms, chest, and abs tensed and relaxed with each movement. Slowly, he picked up speed until his whole body was tensing in anticipation of his release.

Arm pumping fast, I could now hear the ‘slap, slap’ of skin against skin.

Unconsciously, I let my own hand sneak down until I was touching myself as well. My middle finger working my clit at the same speed that James’ hand was moving on his cock. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I realized that what I was doing was so very wrong, but what would it hurt to watch?

I found that out a few seconds later when he came with a grunt. His eyes snapped open, and then his lust-filled eyes locked to mine. My own orgasm coursed through me, but there was nothing I could do but let it flow through me.

I told myself to run. To move my feet. To get out of there.

Yet my feet stayed locked in place as the shower door opened, and I got my first good look at James’ massive appendage. With a freaking piercing. In his freaking penis.

“Mother fucker,” I breathed.

His smirk pointed out that my comment didn’t go unnoticed by him. He grabbed the closest towel off the towel rack and started drying himself off with practical motions. First his shoulders and chest, then down to his legs. His hair, and finally his package.

All the while I watched, willing myself to move.

The door opened all the way, and he walked up to me slowly, as if he was scared I’d run if he moved too fast. “Like what you saw?”

All I could do was nod. “I-I came for a t-t-shirt. My clothes are dirty.” I stuttered.

Grabbing a t-shirt off the end of the bed as he passed, he stopped in front of me, feet inches away from my own. Reaching down, he slowly pulled my hand, and my face flamed when I realized that my hand was still buried in between my legs.

What he did next floored me.

Bringing my hand up, he pulled the two fingers I’d been using to stroke my clit, and sucked them into his mouth. Running the length of his tongue along each finger, sucking and licking the juices from them.

My face flamed for a different reason this time. Desire.

“Maybe next time you can join...” James started to say, but then was interrupted by the front door banging open, and then slamming shut.

“Daddy! I’m hungry! Cheyenne sent me home. She said I needed a bath, and to ask you for dinner. They were eating broccoli rice shit. I didn’t want to eat with her ass anyway.” Janie griped.

Nothing could’ve been more effective.

The desire I’d been feeling was instantly replaced with shock, then my flight instinct kicked in and I ran to his bathroom, slamming the door behind me.

My God. What have I just done?

***

I emerged from the confines of the bathroom fifteen minutes later. When the cool air of his bedroom hit my face, I was relieved to see James nowhere in sight. I could hear James low deep voice speaking with the high-pitched one of his daughter’s, and laughed when I heard the conversation.

“Daddy, can we color tonight?” Janie asked.

“As long as it’s on paper.”

A muttered curse had James’ stifling a snort, but then he scolded her. “Janie, sometime this week you’re going to have someone else come visit you. Don’t say any bad words in front of them, okay?”

That brought up another question I’d meant to ask him. What did that cop mean by being investigated? Would my new job ask me to do that? I’d have to tell them no, and then they’d want to know why.

It’d be a good idea to at least find out why before I’m brought into the middle of it.

Slipping on the sweat pants that were so nicely laid out for me on the end of the bed, I walked out of the room, and steeled myself for the embarrassment of seeing James again.

I wasn’t disappointed. The man looked at me as if I was sex on a stick, and his eyes devoured everything. From the way I wasn’t wearing a bra, to the t-shirt that still smelled of him, all the way down to the sweat pants that hung low on my hips, and only stayed on because of the drawstring.

“Shiloh!” Janie cheered. “Daddy’s ordering pizza. What kind do you like?”

“Sausage and pepperoni.” I answered immediately.

“Hey,” Janie smiled wide. “That’s daddy’s favorite, too!”

Perfect.

By the time the pizza was devoured, I was in a much better mood. I’d let my guard down some, allowing Janie to entertain me with her cunning personality and wit. James was a good father. He didn’t let Janie’s constant need to question and badger him affect him in the slightest.

I knew that whatever allegations against him were most definitely false, and I knew I’d be saying something to my supervisor, regardless of whether she brought it up or not. There were so many people in the world that deserved to have their children taken away for the way they treated them.

James, however, was not one of them. He was patient and kind. He interacted with her. She obviously adored her father. It was the type of relationship I’d secretly wished that I had with my own father. The type where you knew that he’d do absolutely anything for you, and would protect you always.

I’d almost began to think that I’d made too big of a deal of our sexual encounter earlier, that maybe the attraction was just one-sided, when Janie made an innocent statement about Boris, and then James went and ruined my lazy contentedness.

“I love your cat, Shiloh.” Janie said as she petted Boris, who was sprawled out indelicately in her lap. “Daddy, don’t you love Shiloh’s cat?”

“Oh, yeah. I love Shiloh’s cat.” He said with a slight smile on his face.

For some strange reason, I didn’t think he was talking about Boris.