ScandalandSin (19 page)

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Authors: Lynn LaFleur

BOOK: ScandalandSin
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“Touch your nipple and imagine it’s my
mouth sucking it.”

A whimper slipped from her lips. Alaina
thumbed her nipple over and over as she pictured Rye in bed with her, his
tongue licking the hard tip. She imagined his hand sliding down her stomach to
between her thighs.

“Is your nipple nice and hard?”

“Yes.”

“Is your pussy wet?”

She touched her slick flesh and whimpered
again. “Yes.”

“Push two fingers inside you.”

Her cream let her fingers easily enter her
body. She moved them in and out, wishing it was Rye touching her instead.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Fucking myself with my fingers.”

She heard him groan. “Make yourself come
for me. I want to hear it.”

Alaina closed her eyes and let the mental
images flow through her mind. It wasn’t her fingers inside her pussy, but
Rye’s. It was him touching her, sliding his fingertips over the sensitive place
in her channel. It was him who withdrew his fingers and let them glide over her
clit.

“What are you doing now?” he asked, his
voice gruff.

“Touching my clit.”

“I want you naked. Lay down the phone and
take off your shirt.”

Once her T-shirt lay on the floor with her
panties, she picked up the phone again. “Okay.”

“You’re naked?”

“Yes.”

“God, babe, I wish I was with you. I want
to kiss you so bad, I ache.”

Alaina touched her mouth. She spread her
juices over it as she thought about Rye’s lips pressed to hers, his naked body
covering hers, his cock sliding into her pussy. It was always so hard, so big,
when he took her. She licked her fingers and moaned at the taste of herself on
her skin.

“Tell me what you’re doing.”

She almost told him, but stopped and asked
him a question instead. “Are you touching your cock?”

“Yeah.”

“Is it hard?”

“God, yes.”

She slid her hand between her thighs again.
More cream oozed from her channel. She gathered it on her fingers and spread it
over her clit. “Are you going to come?”

“Not until you do.”

Her pussy clenched at the thought of Rye
sliding his hand up and down his rod, over the head, squeezing his balls. She’d
love to watch him do that. “I’m close.”

“Me too.”

Alaina rubbed her clit faster. “Feels so
good.”

“Yeah.”

His voice sounded as if he had gravel in
his throat. The sexy sound sent heat through her. Sweat popped out on her skin.
Her breathing quickened into little pants.

“I’m right there with you, babe,” Rye said.
“I’m right there beside you, rubbing your clit, sucking your nipple, kissing
your lips. I’m gonna come so deep inside you.”

His words pushed Alaina over the edge. The
orgasm snaked up her legs, her torso, before centering in her core. Alaina
moaned loudly and pushed two fingers inside her. The walls of her pussy
pulsated with each contraction.

She heard a grunt over the phone, then a
muttered, “Fuck!”

It took several moments for Alaina to find
the strength to drag her hand to her stomach, and even longer for her breathing
to slow. She could hear Rye’s heavy breathing and knew his climax had been as
strong as hers.

“You okay?” he asked.

“No. I have no feeling left in my body.”

He chuckled, then his voice turned low and
husky again. “I want to watch you make yourself come.”

“I want to watch you too.”

“Then maybe we should do that the next time
we’re together.”

She swallowed hard. “Maybe we should.”

“What time will you be here tomorrow?”

“As soon as I can. Probably between eight
and nine.”

“I’ll be waiting.”

* * * * *

The old-fashioned ringtone on his cell
phone seeped into Rye’s consciousness. He frowned and cracked one eyelid to
look at the digital clock. 2:32. What idiot would call him at 2:32 in the
morning?

Pushing up to one elbow, Rye picked up his
phone from the nightstand and gazed at the display. He blinked when he saw Brad
McGuire’s number. Way too early in the morning for the sheriff to be calling.

Unless something was wrong.

Panic gripped Rye as he flipped open his
phone. “Hey, Sheriff.”

“You’d better get to Stevens House, Rye.
There’s been a fire.”

Completely awake, Rye sat up and turned on
the lamp. “A fire?”

“Yeah. The fire department put it out, but
there’s damage in the kitchen.”

“Damn it,” Rye muttered. A lot of
supplies—including piles of two-by-fours—had been stored in the kitchen since
that room wouldn’t be refurbished for several weeks. “I’ll be there in fifteen
minutes.”

“I’ll call Dax and Griff. You gonna call
the owner?”

“Not until I see what happened. She’ll have
a thousand questions I can’t answer until I look over the place.”

Rye shut the phone and tossed it on the
bed. He made a detour to the bathroom long enough to throw water on his face
and rinse his mouth before he dressed.

He hurried through his house and out to his
pickup. A fire at Stevens House. It had to be an accident, an electrical
shortage or something. Arson wasn’t logical. Everyone who had met Alaina loved
her. He couldn’t imagine anyone wanting to hurt her on purpose.

Dax and Griff pulled up to the front of the
house seconds after Rye parked. He waited for his brothers so they could go in
the house together.

Brad met them in the living room, along
with Marc Bagwell, the fire chief. “What’s up, Marc?” Rye asked.

“It started in the kitchen. We got here
pretty fast so the damage is minimal…mostly smoke. Some of the lumber is
scorched a bit on one end.”

“Any idea how it started?” Dax asked.

Marc rubbed his chin. “I’ll know more after
I finish my investigation, but it looks like arson.”

“Shit,” Griff muttered.

“It would’ve been worse if it hadn’t been
called in when it was,” Marc said. “A couple of teenagers looking for a place
to park saw the smoke. The middle of the night on a dead end road means this
house could’ve burned to the ground before we ever got here.”

Rye and his brothers had served on the
Lanville volunteer fire department for ten years. He knew all the firefighters
personally and they did a damned good job. The fact that they’d stopped the
fire with only minimal damage proved that.

Jaxon Greene walked into the room, steno
pad in hand. It didn’t surprise Rye to see a reporter from the
Lanville
Journal
here. “Hey, Jax.”

“Rye.” He nodded at the other two Colemans.
“Michaela is taking pictures. She’ll have prints later today.”

The object of their conversation walked
into the room. Or Rye should say waddled into the room. He couldn’t help
grinning. She and Jax were expecting twins in less than a month. He gestured
toward her round stomach. “How do you get around that bump to take pictures?”

Michaela rubbed a hand over her babies. “I
get around just fine, thank you very much.”

Jax slipped an arm around her waist and
kissed her temple. Still grinning, Rye glanced at Griff. His grin disappeared.
Griff stared at Michaela’s stomach, a look of longing on his face.

Jana had miscarried two years ago, after
she and Griff had tried for three years to have a baby. Seeing Michaela and Jax
together had to bring back all the sadness from that time.

Griff looked away, but not before Rye saw
the anguish in his eyes. He wondered if his brother would ever get over losing
Jana.

“You call Alaina yet?” Dax asked.

Rye shook his head. “I wanted to get a
better idea of what happened before I called her. I’ll do that now.”

He stepped outside for privacy. Hating to
wake her but knowing he had to, he opened his cell and punched in her number.

Three rings later, a groggy Alaina said,
“There’d better be an emergency for you to call me at this time of the morning,
Rye.”

He winced at her choice of words. “Yeah, it’s
an emergency. There was a fire at your house.”

“What?” She no longer sounded the least bit
sleepy. “At Stevens House?”

“Yeah. The fire chief hasn’t finished the
official investigation, but he told me it looks like arson.”

“Oh God, Rye. Is it destroyed?”

“No, only smoke damage and some minor burns
on the lumber in the kitchen.”

“Who would want to burn down my house?”

“I don’t want to speculate on anything
until Marc finishes his investigation. I think you’d better get here as quick
as you can.”

“I’ll throw on some clothes and be there in
an hour.”

“Drive carefully.”

“I will.”

Rye closed his phone and gripped it
tightly. Anger swirled up inside him that someone would try to hurt Alaina this
way. He swore whoever did this would pay with a lot of broken bones. Rye would
make sure of that.

Chapter Fifteen

 

April 27, 1937

Laura tried to sneak past me when she
got home from her tutoring session with Patrick, but I stopped her. I noticed
how she clutched her sweater together and wouldn’t look directly into my eyes.
I followed my instincts, grabbed the edges of her sweater and yanked them
apart. Laura’s dress was torn and missing two buttons.

Before I could ask any questions, she
said she’d tripped and fallen against a doorway with a loose nail. She’d
accidentally caught her dress on that nail.

I didn’t believe her. Laura is a
horrible liar. He did something to her. I know it. What I don’t know is how to
protect my sister.

* * * * *

Alaina accepted the coffee refill from Dax
with a smile. He and Griff sat at the folding table in the dining room with her
and Rye. They could’ve gone home and back to bed, yet had elected to stay and
give her support.

She’d liked Dax and Griff from the
beginning. Now she admired them.

“Can you still use the lumber?” she asked
Rye.

“Sure. We can cut off the part that was
damaged by fire and water and use the rest. We’ll recycle the damaged part.”

Alaina rubbed her forehead. She still had
trouble believing someone tried to burn down her house. “I don’t understand why
someone would do this.”

Rye squeezed the back of her neck. “We’ll
find out who did it, Alaina. I promise you.”

“How? It could’ve been kids goofing off, or
teenagers acting on a dare.”

Griff leaned forward in his chair. “If
that’s the case, they probably won’t be back.”

“I hope not.” She set her coffee mug back
on the table with a loud
thunk
. “It makes me so
mad
that
idiots
get off on hurting other people. I just want to…
hit
something!”

Dax held his hands up in surrender. “Don’t
look at me. I bruise easily.”

She scowled at him while he grinned, then
turned back to Rye. “Is there a wall somewhere I can hit with a mallet?”

“Most of the walls have been torn down,
except for the library. You can take a crack at it. George said those shelves
would have to be replaced.”

Rye’s eyes sparkled with humor, meaning he
didn’t believe she’d actually take a mallet to the library wall. Well, she’d
show him.

The humor disappeared from his eyes when
she stood. “Where are you going?”

“To knock holes in a wall.”

“Alaina—”

Ignoring Rye, she took off for the library,
stopping in the living room long enough to grab the large-headed mallet.

There weren’t any overhead fixtures
installed yet, but she didn’t need one. Dawn was breaking in the east, giving
her enough light through the window to see. There was a two-foot section of
wall between two bookcases. Perfect. She lifted the heavy mallet over her
shoulder and almost fell backward.

“Easy, slugger.” Rye caught her by the
waist to keep her upright. “I understand your frustration, but don’t hurt
yourself.” He took the mallet from her and leaned it against the wall, then
flipped a hammer until the handle pointed at her. “Try this.”

Alaina frowned. “That won’t make a big
enough hole.”

“So you make a big hole a little at a time.
It’s better than throwing out your back.”

He had a point. She snatched the hammer
from his hand. “Thanks.”

“Dax and Griff volunteered to make a run to
Sonic for breakfast. You want something?”

“A breakfast burrito.”

“You got it.” He gave her a quick kiss.
“Want some help with this wall?”

Rye’s cell phone rang. He glanced at the
display. “It’s my dad.”

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