Protect and Serve 2
Dolly Paxton
Smashwords Edition
Protect and Serve 2
Copyright 2011 by Dolly Paxton at Smashwords.com
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever.
This book is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents depicted herein are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Smashwords Edition License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for honoring copyright and respecting the author's work.
Because this is a work of fiction, of sexual fantasy, the characters are under no threat of sexually-transmitted disease or unwanted pregnancy, and so condoms might not be used in this story. The author encourages all her real-world readers to always practice safe sex.
Protect and Serve 2
The moment her lawyer received word that the defense rested its case, Jennifer Mills reached for her cell phone to call her daughter. She would be going home soon, although they didn't know yet where home was. Supposedly those details were being hammered out by the feds in Witness Protection.
Sam put his hand on hers, took the phone gently and pressed the Off button. "Sorry, Jen. It's not safe yet. We'll let you know when you can talk to her. Right now, we need to get you out of town and away from Giovanni's goons."
Jen immediately thought of Mitch Jordan, the U.S. Marshal who'd escorted her from Oklahoma to St. Louis. Although he was irresistibly handsome, she felt safe with him. "Will I have the same escort?"
"No, I thought you'd be more comfortable with a female deputy."
Her heart sank. Yes, he was an asshole, and yes, she'd made the mistake of sleeping with him, but there was no denying the fact that she felt safe under his protection. He'd taken no risks with her life.
Just the thought of the tall, broad-shouldered deputy sparked a tickle in her panties, which warmed her face. She supposed it was just as well he didn't escort her. The awkwardness between them after that one night of passion had made the rest of the trip uncomfortable.
"Sure," she told her attorney. "That'll be fine. When do we leave, and where are we going?"
"Your escort should be here within the hour and will let you know when she arrives. For your safety, just the two of you have your relocation information. The fewer who know where you are, the better."
Jen sat back down in the chair in his office and exhaled. It was too bad she wouldn't get a chance to see Mitch again, although she knew there wasn't anything personal between them. She only wanted a chance to shake his hand and thank him. A tremor swept through her body at the thought of his big, warm hands caressing her breast, grabbing her ass, stroking her clit until she came while he fucked her from behind. Heat rose to her face. It was a good thing Sam couldn't read her thoughts.
The two uniformed cops outside the door stood, hands on their weapons ready to draw. A woman approached, a tall blonde dressed in a gothic black style. Her makeup was heavy and dark, and a silver hoop hung from her left nostril and bottom lip. One of the cops checked the paperwork she handed them. When she caught Jen's eye, she smiled and lifted her chin.
The cops handed back the paperwork and motioned her in. Sam and Jen stood as she approached. "I'm Rebecca Stevens, Deputy U.S. Marshal. Are you Jennifer Mills?"
Jen nodded, swallowing. The woman wasn't particularly pretty, but she had an air about her that Jen found intimidating. She supposed it came with being a federal deputy; as she recalled, Mitch had a similar, commanding presence.
Rebecca patted her oversized shoulder bag. "I've got some clothes for you and a few fashion accessories. Let's get you into the ladies' room to change and we'll be on our way. Once we're on the road, I'll fill you in on the details of where we're going. I think you're going to like it."
Jen bid goodbye to her attorney, followed Rebecca to the ladies' room and changed her clothes. The outfit she was to wear consisted of a black miniskirt, black and red bustier with a lacy over-shirt, black fishnet hose, combat boots, a single fingerless glove on her right hand, a silver studded black dog collar, and a black leather wrist band on her left arm. She and Rebecca had fun putting gobs of eye and lip make-up on her. A few fake facial piercings and a shabby-chic updo for her hair completed the look. She almost didn't recognize herself.
"Stay on my right side," Rebecca said. "If I tell you to get down, get down fast. Don't pause to--"
"--look around or question you," Jen finished. "Got it."
Rebecca smiled. "You'll be fine. Ready?"
At Jen's nod, they left the restroom and took the elevator down. A well-dressed woman looked them up and down with disdain, which gave Jen confidence that she looked the part of a young goth chick. They stepped out into a sunny day, cool but not cold with only a slight breeze. People were jogging up and down the many short courthouse steps, most dressed nicely in business suits and dresses. She felt both out of place and out of sorts as she followed her deputy down the steps to the street.
Rebecca motioned with her hand toward the east. "The car's just down the--"
Two loud cracks silenced her. Rebecca jerked, then stumbled heavily into Jen. "Run," she managed to say as she crumpled to the ground.
People around her screamed, ducking their heads and scurrying toward shelter. Jen didn't want to leave poor Rebecca there on the sidewalk out in the open, but she knew she was the target. She ran to the nearest car parked at the curb, a blue minivan, and ducked down. Her heart pounded. Her thoughts bordered on panic. Her protector was dead or dying, and the hit man was looking for her. Was he getting a bead on her now? Should she run or stay put?
A firm hand gripped her arm. She startled, gasping, and turned to see Mitch squatting beside her. Relief winged through her. She would be safe. "Are you hit?" he asked, setting a small black duffle bag by her feet.
"No. Just Rebecca, my escort. How did you--?"
"Stay down. Cover your ears." He had his gun in hand as he peeked around the side of the van. With one fluid movement, he turned, aimed his weapon and fired three rounds.
More people screamed. Mitch pressed his back against the van and waited. "Got him, but I don't know if he was alone. Stay here." He ran over to check on Rebecca. Jen saw her stir. Thank God she was still alive. Mitch holstered his gun, picked her up and carried her over one shoulder up the courthouse steps. He set her down behind a concrete column and shouted instructions to the people nearby. The he raced back down the steps, scooped up Rebecca's shoulder bag, and ran back to join Jen behind the van.
"She's going to make it," he said as he dug into the bag. He pulled out a single key with built-in remote and handed the bag to Jen. "Do you know what she was driving?"
"No," Jen said. "What about your car?" The sound of sirens in the distance grew louder. Jen hoped one of them was an ambulance.
"It wasn't mine." He met her eyes for the first time since, well, since he was on top of her, pumping his cock into her pussy just before he shot his wad. As inappropriate as it was, Jen's body reacted to the memory, sending heated moisture to her crotch. "I turned it in. This is going to be interesting."
Jen pointed east. "I think it's that way."
Mitch helped her stand, shouldered his duffle bag, then locked an iron grip around her arm as he guided her down the street. She cast a glance over her shoulder and saw the gunman lying still in the grass in front of the courthouse. With his other hand, Mitch clicked the key remote repeatedly while he watched the cars for signs of one being unlocked. Ahead, the tail lights of a black SUV lit up. "This is it. Lie down on the back seat until we're out of town."
Jen climbed into the SUV, tossed Rebecca's shoulder bag onto the floor behind the front passenger seat, and lay down across the rear seat with her feet behind the driver's seat. The windows were tinted, so it would be harder for Giovanni's hit men to see who was inside. Mitch climbed in behind the wheel, started the engine and pulled out into the street.
He tossed her a concerned glance. "Are you sure you're okay? Did you get hurt during any of that?"
She felt a bruise forming where he'd gripped her arm, but she wouldn't say anything about that. He hadn't meant to hurt her. "I'm okay."
His shoulders relaxed with his heavy exhale. He reached up and adjusted the rear view mirror, though Jen still couldn't see his eyes in it from this angle. "Good. Don't worry about Rebecca. She's tough. Hey, buckle up, will you? I'd hate to lose you in a crash after all that." With his right hand, he reached back to give her forearm a gentle squeeze.
Jen sucked in her breath as a shock of heat spread from that point outward. She longed to lie in his arms, feeling those big hands on her bare skin once more. With a resigned sigh, knowing the seatbelt would be the only embrace she'd get any time soon, she pulled the center passenger lap belt around her middle and latched it. Now with all the fear and excitement behind her, she relaxed and folded one arm under her head so she could watch Mitch. His eyes scanned all around - to the mirror, the front, side windows and side mirrors. Every time they had to stop for a traffic light, he cursed softly and put his right hand on the stainless semiautomatic handgun lying in his lap. Finally, they got on the freeway, and he visibly relaxed.
She followed the line of his big biceps to the corded muscle of his forearm to his wrist draped lazily over the top of the steering wheel. Being with him made her feel safe. Being in those strong arms made her feel protected. And womanly. Not to mention horny. She'd never had this kind of chemistry with her ex -- or anyone else, for that matter.
"How did you happen to be nearby when Rebecca was shot?" she asked, rubbing her arm to renew the feel of his touch. She wished she could rub herself where she wanted him to touch her.
Mitch ran a hand over his neatly trimmed goatee. "I was headed to the courthouse. Good timing, I guess."
The same courthouse where she was testifying. What a coincidence. Dressed as he was in a faded black t-shirt and blue jeans, he didn't look like a man headed to court. "Oh, I hope no one's waiting for you in there."
Mitch took a breath before answering. "Actually, I was waiting for you to come out. I wanted to say goodbye. I hoped-- never mind. It doesn't matter now."
Her heart started to thump faster. "It matters to me. Tell me."
He kept his eyes ahead. "I hoped you wouldn't think too poorly of me for… what happened that night. I've never been intimate with a charge before. It was wrong of me to succumb to my personal desires on the job."
Jen's heart sank. "Oh." She didn't know why she was disappointed. It wasn't like she actually liked this guy. She just liked how he made her feel. "No, I don't think poorly of you at all. I feel safe with you. Thank you for saving me back there. I'm sorry Rebecca got shot protecting me, but I'm glad you're taking me to my new home."
"Whoa, wait a second." He opened his palms against the steering wheel. "I'm only getting you out of immediate danger. As soon as we're out of the city, I'm calling for another deputy to take you the rest of the way."
Jen sat up. "What? Why?"
He reached back, put his hand on her head and pushed her down. "Stay down! Damn it, Jennifer."
Smiling, she laid her head back on her arm. "Glad to hear I'm not Ms. Mills anymore."
His face and neck reddened. "Sorry, Ms. Mills. I--"
"It's Jen, by the way. Only my grandmother calls me Jennifer. I want you to take me, Mitch." She hadn't meant to use a low, husky tone, but the way it came out had a very definite sexual overtone. The implication hung in the air: if they traveled together, they would wind up in bed again, and that was fine with her. The temperature in her panties rose about three degrees. She wished she could peek at his lap to see if he had a hard-on.
"I don't think that's a good idea."
She knew that appealing to his protective instinct was playing dirty, but it was the only card she had. "Is there someone you trust more than yourself to get me home safely?"
His jaw worked. "No," he grumbled. His hands were now clenching the wheel. "But every one of our deputies is perfectly qualified and capable of keeping you safe."
"But can they make me feel safe? Can they comfort me like you can?"
He didn't answer. If he actually felt bad about fucking her that night, she supposed she might have embarrassed him. After all, it had started when she asked him to comfort her, and she simply couldn't keep her hands to herself. They drove for another twenty minutes in silence, Jen letting her heavy eyelids slowly close, and Mitch watching for signs of danger. She opened her eyes when she heard him speak and realized they'd come to a stop. She sat up.
They were at a highway rest stop. A couple in a blue sedan walked a small white dog on the grassy area near the rest room, and an elderly woman hobbled back to a silver minivan with two children in tow.
"Hey, Paul. It's Mitch. Did you hear Rebecca's been shot? ...She's okay. She's with me." Mitch looked into the rearview mirror and met Jen's gaze. His eyes crinkled with his smile, then he looked away. "Yeah, I think so… We passed an ambulance as we left the scene…" He chuckled. "You know it. Listen, do you have someone to pick up Ms. Mills and take her--"
Say no, Jen thought, chewing her lip. Please say no.
"What about Steve?" Mitch sighed and rubbed his temples. "No, it's all right. I'll just postpone it. No big deal. The fish will still be there in a few days."
Now Jen felt guilty for keeping him from his vacation. She was resolved now more than ever to make sure he didn't regret it. She opened the door, intending to use the restroom while they were stopped.
"Whoa, where the hell are you going?" he snapped.
"I have to use the restroom."
"Hey Paul, I gotta go. I'll call you when we get to the next checkpoint," he said, then flipped the phone shut. He got out, put his gun into his shoulder holster, which he now wore in plain view, and walked with Jen toward the concrete building. She expected him to stop beside the open entrance to the women's room, but he followed her in.
"What do you think you're doing?" she asked, stopping him with a hand on his chest. The curves of his hard muscle under her hand renewed her awareness of his intense masculinity and gorgeous body. God, she wanted him. She wanted him bad.
"You're not going in there alone." He took her by the wrist and removed her hand from his chest.
"Well, this is the ladies' room, and I can personally attest to the fact that you're not a lady."
He shot her an annoyed look. "And I've already seen everything you've got, so there's no need to be shy."
"Mitch, there could be other women in there."
He stepped past her and leaned into the restroom. "Anyone in here?" No one answered. With a satisfied grin, he gestured for her to enter ahead of him.
The stalls were low-walled without doors. Anyone in a stall could be easily seen from the shoulders up, even while seated. Jen checked the stalls for the cleanest one and went in. Mitch went into the end stall, faced the toilet and proceeded to pee.
Although it was awkward using the restroom with him, she took care of her business as quickly as she could. He smiled at her while they washed their hands in adjacent sinks. "I like the mini skirt. The makeup could use a touch-up, though. Looks like you've been in a fight."
"Oh, god," she said. The bathroom had no mirror.
"Here," he said, turning her to face him. He took a paper towel from the dispenser, moistened it, and gently wiped her cheeks and temples and under her eyes, careful not to get too close. She watched his eyes soften as he cleaned her face. The care he took, the way he touched her, made her heart flutter. It had been a long time since anyone had treated her so tenderly. "There. That's better." He tossed the towel into the trash and put his hand on her shoulder. "Need a candy bar or drink before we get back on the road?"
She shook her head, unwilling to trust her voice. With all she'd been through recently, having no man in her life to lean on meant she had to shoulder it all alone. Now here was this man, a federal deputy just doing his job, but she felt closer to him than she had to a man in a long time. Despite her best efforts to rein in the emotions, her chin began to quiver. She tried to turn away, but he saw it.
"Hey, what's wrong?"
She blotted the tear from her eye before it made her makeup worse. "It's been a terrifying day. Sometimes I wish I'd just kept my mouth shut about seeing Giovanni shoot that man. My whole life is in ruins."
"No," he said, lifting her chin with a finger to bring her eyes up to his. "Don't say that. You did the right thing. You'll get through this, and I'm going to help." Mitch pulled her into his arms. "Damn you."
Being in his warm, strong arms, her cheek pressed against his chest, Jen could think of no place she'd rather be at this moment -- or any other. And when she felt his cock stiffen against her, she clutched him tighter, warming with his arousal. But suddenly he pushed her away, turning toward the door. His hand reached automatically for his weapon.
"Oh!" someone said. A woman and her young daughter stood, wide-eyed, by the door.
"Sorry," Jen said as she headed to the door. "We were just leaving."
They returned to the SUV, and Jen climbed into the front passenger seat. Over and over, she thought about what he'd said, "I'm going to help," and how he took her into his arms. Had he meant that?
He started the engine, picked up a blue file folder and pulled out a sheet of paper, and programmed the car's GPS navigation system. "Take a look," he said, handing her the folder. "That's where we're going."
While he backed out and got them back on the highway, she opened it and leafed through the pages. There she found a photo of a one-story house, white with yellow shutters and a green door on Maple Street in Chippewa Falls, Wisconsin. This was where she'd soon call home. A new life, a new name. It was darling. She envisioned her daughter running up the two steps to that door and pushing it open, announcing she was home from school. Although she knew nothing about the town, she would make do. She'd find a way to make it work.
"Thank you," she whispered. "I can't wait to see it. Do you know when I'll get to see my daughter?"
"I'm told she's already there. Danielle, is it?"
Jen nodded. Dani was the pride of her life. She'd been away from her daughter for nearly a week, which was the toughest part about this whole ordeal. Her need to protect Dani from the cruelty in the world, from the pain of her father's stinging words, even from the men she dated, had left Jen feeling completely powerless when she had to trust in the government to keep her child safe until they could be reunited after the trial.
Leaning forward, she put her face into her hands to hide her tears. She missed Dani so much. She missed her friends, her parents, her sister and brother. She even missed that drafty, old house she used to curse every time something needed repair.
Mitch put his hand on her shoulder. "You'll be with her soon. I promise." He rubbed her back and pushed the hair back from her neck, brushing her skin lightly.
His touch distracted her, dragged her thoughts away from her sorrows and to the warmth of his hand, the strength of it, the weight of it, to his deft fingers, reminding her how they so expertly stroked her clit that night in the hotel room, bringing her to orgasm. She wanted to feel his cock inside her again, maybe feel his mouth on her, his tongue pleasuring her. Their first time together had been rushed, both of them needing release more than they needed to share the experience. Next time, she wanted more. When he pulled his eyes from the road and met her gaze, she saw her own desire reflected in them.
Turning her body toward him, Jen took his hand and moved it to her breast. At first, his eyes widened, and he started to pull his hand back. She gripped it tighter, pressing it to her tit. "No," she said. "Don't resist it, Mitch. We both feel it. We both want it."
"I'm on the job, Jen. It's not right."
Still holding his hand against her breast, she looked down at his lap, at the long bulge his hard-on made in his jeans. "I'm safe now. You don't have to be a cop right now. You can let down your guard and just be a man."
His face had that conflicted look he'd had in the hotel room right before he succumbed to his arousal. "I don't get paid to screw my charges."
"You were supposed to be on vacation, right? So start that vacation right now and stop thinking of me as a charge."
His stony expression melted, and his fingers curled around her breast, cupping it, squeezing it. "Damn it, Jen." His thumb stroked her hardened nipple.
"Ohh, yeah," she whispered, stroking his hand and arm. She couldn't get enough of his touch, wishing she could have both hands on her at once. "I love your hands. I love what they do to me." She moved it to her thigh, encouraging him to explore up under her skirt.
He did. "You're killing me," he said, eyes smoky with desire.
If only she'd taken the stupid fishnets off in the restroom, but they went down to her toes. She'd have to take the combat boots off, too. "One second." With a naughty grin, she pulled her skirt up, grabbed the elastic waistband of the stockings and pulled them down to her calves.
He moved his eyes from the road in several quick glances to see her white, lacy cheekies. "You wore those panties in court?"
"Mmm hmm," she said, guiding his hand back to her now-bare thigh. "I might be all professional on the outside, but underneath, I'm all woman."
"I'll say." His hand squeezed and caressed her thigh, inching higher ever so slowly.
Her panties were so wet, her pussy eager for his touch. With one finger, he brushed the crotch of her panties, making her squirm and press her hips toward him. The seats were far enough apart that he had to lean slightly to reach her over the center console, so she shifted as close as she could and lifted her ass a couple inches off the seat. She spread her thighs apart, inviting him to stroke her pussy.
His fingers moved lightly, slowly over the crotch of her panties. "I love how wet you get," he said. "You turn me into a walking hard-on, you know."
Knowing he found her as sexy as she found him made her pussy tingle. "This is what you do to me." She reclined the back of her seat a bit and leaned back, lifting her skirt over her hips. There weren't many other cars on the road, and the SUV was up high enough that only a trucker passing on the right would be able to see what he was doing to her, but Mitch was driving in the right lane.
He slipped his hand down the front of her panties. Jen gasped when his finger slid down into her slit and across her clit. She stroked his thick forearm, breathing heavily and sighing with pleasure as he ran his finger up and down across her sopping wet flesh. While the sight of his hand down her panties was exciting, the look of pure sexual delight on his face was exhilarating. It was an expression she wished she could see every morning before getting out of bed and every night before falling asleep.
Her breathing came in heavy, ragged sighs as his fingers focused on the swollen nub of her clit. Tiny sounds came forth from her throat, echoing the pleasure he was giving her with every swipe. At first he rubbed her slowly, drawing long groans, but as he began to move faster, bringing her closer to the height of arousal, his movements narrowed.
"That's it, baby," Mitch said. "Let me see you chase it down. I want to feel your clit wag in my hand." He flicked his eyes back and forth from the road to her crotch to the mirror to her face. He flicked his finger on her most sensitive spot, bringing her ever higher. "You're so hot," he whispered.
"Ohhh, Mitch," she purred, writhing in the seat under the expert titillation of his hand. "Don't stop. Don't ever stop."
"You make me so hard. Your pussy was made for my dick. Remember what it was like when I fucked you?"
She did. It was all she thought about in the three nights since. Under her hand, a muscle in his forearm flexed with every stroke of his finger on her clit. He kept a constant speed and rhythm, one she paired with the memory of his cock pumping into her. "Yes," she cooed.
"I want to do it again," he said. "And again. And again."
"Yes," she whispered, hovering on the cusp of orgasm. "I want you to."
"You want me to fuck you, Jen? Ram my hard cock up into that sweet pussy of yours and fuck until I explode?"
"Yes. Yes! Ohhhhh!" And then the climax spilled over, crashing through her body with a long wave of pleasure. She drove her hips up into his hand, bucking against it and gripping his forearm to hold it steady as the orgasm devoured her from the inside out. His finger didn't slow until it dragged the last shuddering vestiges of orgasm from her body. Only then did he stop, cupping her pussy in his hand with a lusty grin.
"That was fun," he said. She sat up, which prompted him to remove his hand. He lifted it to his face and drew in a big breath through his nose. "Mmmm." And then he stuck his fingers into his mouth and sucked off her juices. "If I ever get you naked again, I won't settle for just a little taste."
Her pussy let out a little sigh of wetness in response. "I look forward to it." She lowered her gaze to his lap, to his huge erection filling his pants. "And speaking of a little taste…" She unbuckled her seat belt and started to crawl across the center console.
"Whoa, hold on there, Doll. Buckle back up. I'm not so deviant I'd risk your life for my own pleasure."
She pouted, disappointed at not being able to give him a BJ. "But I want to pleasure you, too."
"As much as I want your mouth around my cock, your safety is still my number one concern, vacation or not."
With a sigh, Jen pulled the belt back around herself and clicked it into place. "Well then, I'll just have to do it manually." If she shifted in her seat so that she tucked her legs under her and faced him, there was enough play in the seatbelt to enable her to reach his zipper. He didn't object, and in fact, he helped her unbutton his jeans, lifting his hips so she could get the zipper all the way down. She reached into the placket of his black briefs and wrapped her fingers around his warm cock.
Mitch sucked in his breath and gripped the steering wheel. With the cruise control set, he could slouch a bit in his seat and open his legs.
She drew his penis up through the gap in his underwear, pointing it upward. It was huge and hard, too thick to wrap her hand completely around. "You have the most beautiful cock," she said. "It's nice and straight, and oh so hard, too. And thick."
"It's bigger around than those tiny wrists of yours," he said with a chuckle.
She put her right hand down her panties and swiped it across her still-wet flesh, then smeared her pussy juice all over his cock. Now her hand slid easily along its length as she gripped it tightly.
"Ohhh, yeah," he said. His eyes darted from the road to his lap. "That's good."
When she squeezed it, he moaned, tipping his head back and watching the road through lowered lids. A glob of precum oozed out, and she smeared that across the head, mixing it with her own lubricant.
While she stroked it, she admired his body - broad, thick chest, narrow waist and hips, muscular thighs. The base of his cock had been shaved. She remembered from their night in the motel room that he had hadn't shaved his balls, though he kept his pubic hair neatly trimmed. When she finally got the chance to go down on him, she would appreciate not having little hairs in her mouth.
"You want me to suck it some time, right?" she asked as she stroked the long length of his cock.
"Oh, yeah," he groaned. "Maybe later. Tonight."
Tonight. She smiled. She could definitely deal with tonight. His face, once relaxed in pleasure, now began to tense as his arousal increased.
"A little faster," he said. She moved her hand up and down its shaft slightly faster, sacrificing a little stroke length for speed. When the friction began to increase as the lubricant was absorbed, he gave up a little more precum to keep her hand moving slickly over his cock. Another swipe of her pussy would do the trick, but she didn't want to stop the momentum.
Mitch's breaths shortened. He whispered "Oh, oh, oh" with every stroke, every breath. Jen felt her own arousal renew, felt her pussy drool at the feel of his cock in her hand, the sound of his pleasure, the sight of him, mouth open and breathing hard. Now his eyes were open wide, and although he kept his eyes mostly on the road, he glanced down periodically to see his cock and what she was doing to him.
"Talk to me," he whispered.
"You want to know how much I love the feel of your hard cock in my hand? Or would you rather hear how I fantasized about you being on top of me, the way you were three nights ago, while I masturbated before bed each night?" She felt her cheeks burn at the admission, but it turned her on to say it out loud. And judging by Mitch's sharp intake of breath, it turned him on to hear it. Emboldened, she continued. "I thought about your cock, hard like it is now, sliding into my wet pussy. I pretended my finger was yours as it stroked my clit. I remembered the feel of you filling me inside, riding my ass, fucking me from behind as I came. Did you feel me coming, Mitch?"
"Yes, I felt it. I felt you come. Oh, Jen."
She pumped her hand madly, pulsing the pressure of her hand as she slid it up and down over his cock. "Like this. This is how I came with you inside me."
With a loud cry, Mitch came. Jen had just enough time to react. She pointed his cock toward her. Hot, white cum squirted out, hitting her first in the cheek, then into her open mouth as she adjusted the angle. She tasted its saltiness, sticking her tongue out eagerly to lap up every drop, and swallowed it down hungrily. He was watching her, eyes wide in surprise. A loud growl shocked them both as the tires of the SUV ran over the rumble strip along the shoulder. Mitch jerked the wheel to steer the vehicle back onto the highway.
They both laughed.
"So that's what that noise was I heard when you were driving the other day," he said. He reached over and wiped the cum off her cheek with his thumb and offered it to her. She took his thumb into her mouth and sucked it off. "God, I think you're my dream girl."
Jen smiled. A warm glow spread from her pussy to her chest. It was a sweet thing to say, even if he only said it because she turned him on sexually. "Well, I wasn't jerking you off at the time. Just looking at you."
"As long as you liked what you saw…?"
"Very much."
He smiled. "Take the wheel a sec, would you, while I make myself more presentable?"
Jen held the steering wheel steady. Mitch lifted his butt, stuffed his flaccid penis back into his underpants and fastened his jeans. Finished, he took the wheel back. When he offered his hand, she took it in both of hers and lifted it to her lips.
"You must travel a lot for your job," she said. Already, Jen was thinking of how she could see him again, considering he was based in Tulsa.
"Not as much as you might think. Witness security is only one of my duties. I'm also assigned to protect judges and sometimes juries. There's on-going training, meetings, paperwork… It's nice to get away sometimes."
"What kind of vacation are you planning?"
He told her about a camping and fishing trip to Kentucky with his brother, sister-in-law and two nephews. His family went every year for spring break, but Mitch never seemed to be able to get the right week off to go with them.
"And I'm ruining it for you again," she said softly.
"You're not ruining anything." He squeezed her hand and stroked her finger with his thumb. "I'll catch up with them once I've seen you safely home."
On the center console, his cell phone vibrated and began to whistle the tune from The Good, the Bad and the Ugly. "That's the boss. I'd better take it." He flipped the phone open and pressed a button. "Hey, Paul." He switched the phone to his other hand, steadied the steering wheel with his knee and pressed a button on the GPS navigation system to wake it up. "We're about an hour outside of it. I was going to stop there for some dinner, then put another hour on the road before we stopped for the night."
Jen took the opportunity to pull the fishnet hose back up and adjust her skirt. She flipped the visor down and checked her make-up. Yep. It definitely needed repair, though Mitch had done an admirable job with the paper towel.
"Uh… no, that's okay, really. I don't mind, and I think I've earned Ms. Mills's trust."
Alarm bells went off in her head. She gave him a questioning look.
He held up a finger, scowling. "Shit. I see. All right then. Big Bob's on Harper's Ferry Road. Got it." He snapped the phone shut without saying goodbye. Jen knew from the look in his eyes she wasn't going to like what he was about to say.
"My boss assigned another deputy to take you from Springfield to Chippewa Falls."
"What?" she asked. A lump formed in her throat. "Mitch, no! I want you to take me."
"I know. I'm sorry." He put his hand against her cheek and brushed her lips tenderly with his thumb. "There's some bullshit about maximum vacation accrual and a deadline for taking it, and HR is insisting I go as planned or risk suspension."
"That's ridiculous. When were you supposed to start your vacation?"
"This morning. Due to unforeseen circumstances, I missed my two o'clock flight out of St. Louis." He smiled.
She hung her head, sorry for having disrupted his plans, but sorrier for having to say goodbye to him before she was ready. "This sucks, you know."
"I know. Listen, this guy we're meeting is one of the best. You'll be in good hands."
She crossed her arms and sulked for a minute, taking it all in. When had she started liking Mitch beyond just the physical attraction? Maybe she was over-thinking it, reading too much into the situation, but she'd gotten the impression that he liked her a little bit, too. "In case you're wondering, I don't plan to seduce him."
"I wasn't."
They rode in silence most of the way into Springfield, only making small-talk about the traffic, the town, President Lincoln. The GPS announced in its annoying mechanical woman's voice they were approaching their destination. Mitch swore under his breath, hit the brakes hard and turned into the parking lot of a mini market.
"What're we doing here?" Jen asked.
He pulled into an empty space, threw the shifter into park, and got out. She watched him storm around the front of the truck to the passenger door and try to open it, but it was locked. She pressed the button to unlock it, and he threw the door open.
"I won't get another chance to do this," he said, leaning over her. He released her seat belt and took her by the arm, urging her to step out.
"To do what?"
Mitch pulled her into his arms and held her tightly. She wrapped her arms around his waist and shut her eyes, throwing herself into the fantasy that everything would be all right. His heart thundered beneath her ear. She felt him press a kiss onto her head and pulled back enough to look into his eyes.
"I don't want to say goodbye without kissing you properly," he said. He lowered his mouth to hers, and she parted her lips for him. His tongue caressed hers tenderly yet seductively, prompting a flood of wetness to her already soaked panties. Against her belly, his penis grew hard, but he didn't grope her or rub against her. He just held her close and kissed the hell out of her, making her wish she didn't have to say goodbye at all.
"I can't promise anything," he said softly, tangling his hand in her hair. "But I'll check on you when I get a chance. Maybe you're the incentive I need to take the vacation time I've earned."
She smiled up at him. "I hope you do, Mitch. You know where to find me."
They got back into the SUV and held hands across the center console until they'd parked at the Big Bob's and Mitch pointed Ron out to her as her new deputy escort came toward them. He was a bruiser of a man, nearly as muscular as Mitch but heavier with fat and not as handsome. She gathered her few belongings and put them into Ron's car while the two deputies talked.
"Thank you, Deputy Jordan," she said, offering her hand to Mitch. He took it, gripping it warmly. "I appreciate all you've done for me. Enjoy your vacation. It's well-deserved."
"The pleasure was mine, Ms. Mills. Keep your head down and your seatbelt fastened."
With one long parting look that ignited the fire between her legs, Jen set off on the journey to her new life.
--
The End.
Look for more erotica romance stories by Dolly Paxton at https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/dollypaxton
Take a sneak peek at Protect and Serve 3, the final adventures of Jen and Mitch.
~
Protect and Serve 3
Jennifer Mills fastened her seat belt and watched silently through her window as Mitch Jordan grew farther away. Her new escort, Deputy U.S. Marshal Ronald Mason, loomed large behind the wheel of the charcoal gray Ford Sport Trac. His breathing was loud and annoying, and his cologne overpowering in the small space they shared.
It wasn't fair that Mitch was being forced to hand her over to another deputy because of administrative reasons having to do with his vacation time. They would arrive at her new home in Wisconsin tomorrow. What was one more day on the job? He seemed to genuinely want to take her the rest of the way.
"You mind if we grab some burgers from the McDoodle's drive-through and eat on the road?" Ron asked.
"That's fine." The sooner they got to Chippewa Falls, the sooner she'd be reunited with her daughter and start putting the murder and trial behind her.
They rode in silence for a few more minutes until they were in the drive-through lane and ready to order. Jen asked for a grilled chicken sandwich and side salad, while Ron ordered a triple-stack with bacon, a double-stack with bacon and large fries. She said nothing, but eyed him in wary disbelief. Was the guy suicidal? She tried to bend down for her purse beside the ugly, black combat boots she'd put on back at the courthouse, but the seatbelt stopped her from moving more than a couple of inches.
She relaxed, expecting it to release, but it stayed taut. She tried to slowly pull it loose and still it did not budge. "The seatbelt's stuck. If you can hand me my purse, I'll give you some money for dinner."
"Don't worry about it, Ms. Mills," Ron said, pulling out his wallet. He handed the cashier a $20, took his change and pulled forward to the pick-up window.
"But the belt is too tight. I can't move."
"Sorry, I forgot to warn you. It's sticky like that. You'll have to wait until I shut off the engine. It'll release then." He took first the drinks, then the two bags of food from the teenager at the window and handed them to Jen.
She set the drinks in the cup holders in the center console and set the bags on her lap. "We could park for a few minutes and eat if you'd like. That way you don't have to try to drive and manage that huge sandwich."
"Nah, I do it all the time."
She waited until they were back on the surface street before handing him his first sandwich. They ate in silence, or relative silence, since Ron's eating involved some smacking and loud chewing. Jen looked out her side window, trying to block him out while she ate. Her thoughts snapped back to Mitch and the time they'd shared. Not only had she enjoyed their sexual encounters, but she found herself missing his strong presence during their drive, too. He had a way of engendering trust and confidence, not to mention lust.
Admittedly, she'd found him overbearing and irritating at first, though she quickly discovered that he was intensely dedicated to making sure she was not only safe but as comfortable as possible given the circumstances. There was no denying that she was immensely attracted to him, as he was to her, and she found herself hoping again that he would make good on his suggestion to visit her in Chippewa Falls sometime.
Back on the highway, Jen reclined her seat a few inches and dozed, dreaming of Mitch's strong arms around her and his soft lips pressed to her own.
~
Deputy U.S. Marshal Mitch Jordan watched with an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach as Jen rode off. He'd met Ron Mason a couple times, shared a beer with him and some of the other guys once, and had heard some great things about the guy. Hell, Mason had earned the Medal of Honor when he took a bullet to save a federal judge a few years back. But lately the rumors have been less than complimentary. Someone said Mason went into a depression after his wife split, and he lost his edge. That was none of Mitch's business, but Jennifer Mills was.
She'd gotten into his blood.
One of the biggest dangers of the job was becoming emotionally attached to a charge. It was one thing to respect someone, to like her, even. He liked most of the judges and witnesses he'd protected over the years. But Jen was different in some unquantifiable way. She was independent yet vulnerable, distinctly feminine yet aggressive, and sexy as hell. Despite his embarrassment over losing control three nights ago, he didn't regret a thing. No, he took that back. He regretted handing her over to Ron Mason.
He set off in the direction Mason had gone. To hell with HR and its stupid rules. Speeding through the city streets, he became more anxious with every passing minute. Mason should have gotten back onto I-55, so Mitch turned onto the on-ramp and hoped he could catch up to them.
What the hell am I doing? he wondered. He should have been dropping the car off at the USMS office in Springfield and grabbing a flight back home to Tulsa. Proper procedure would have been to call Paul to double-check that the paperwork was in order for Mason to take Jen to Wisconsin, but his instinct told him something was off. It could have been that Ron hadn't made eye contact with Mitch when they shook hands, or it could have been the excess sweat on the man's bald pate. His gut had never failed him before, though he couldn't help but wonder whether it was really his professional instinct or a more personal, more possessive one at play here. True, Jen wasn't his, but he could fix that.
His cell phone vibrated and started playing the theme song from The Good, the Bad and the Ugly; the boss was calling. "Hey Paul," he said. "I was just getting ready to call you."
"Mitch, there's something strange with the paperwork from Springfield on Jennifer Mills. It's just an incorrect destination code -- probably nothing to get our panties twisted up over, but hold off on the hand-off until I get it squared away. Better safe than sorry."
"Fuck! I gave her to Ron Mason about twenty minutes ago."
"Let me give the Springfield office a quick call. Hang on the line."
Screw it, Mitch thought. He punched the accelerator. When he caught up to them, he'd wave Mason over and take Jen to Peoria himself. That was where he'd planned to stop for the night anyway. If the paperwork ended up being square, they could deal with it in the morning.
Finally, Mitch caught sight of a dark truck a couple miles ahead. That could be them. He passed a couple of cars, closing the distance. As he neared, he got a clearer view of the vehicle: a dark gray Sport Trac. The truck put on its turn signal at the approaching exit and pulled off the highway. What the hell? Where was Mason going?
"Mitch," Paul's voice said on the phone. "There's a problem. Springfield says they assigned Pete Harris for the Mills detail, not Mason, and he's still at the restaurant waiting for you. Give me a description of Mason's vehicle, and I'll have state police pull him over."
Fuck. Mitch pounded the steering wheel with his fist. He knew it. He rattled off the description and the name of the exit Mason just took. "I'm not far behind him, but back-up never hurt. There's another car exiting, too -- a black sedan with dark, tinted windows. Can't read the plate yet."
"Be careful, Mitch. If Mason's gone rogue, there's no telling what he'll do."
~
Jen jerked awake as Ron pulled the truck into an old gas station. It looked empty. Abandoned. "What's wrong? Why are we stopping?"
Ron threw the gear shifter into park, but he didn't turn off the engine. "That burger didn't agree with me. I gotta use the can."
Jen tried for the door handle but it was about two inches out of reach. The seat belt was still tight across her lap, and the shoulder strap kept her from leaning forward any more. "I could use a restroom break, too."
"Hang tight." He got out, shut the door and jogged around the side of the building.
"Hey!" she yelled after him. Damn it. She tried to unbuckle the belt, but the release wouldn't budge. The ignition was too far away to reach. She tried to slide the shoulder strap over her head, but it only got tighter as she fought against it. If she could get one foot out of her boot, she might reach the ignition with her toes. She drew her left knee up to unlace her boot.
The sound of wheels on gravel turned her annoyance to alarm. She tried to turn around to see who'd pulled up, but the belt kept her tightly strapped down.
"Go go go," a man's voice said.
Jen's blood turned to lead as fear gripped her. A car door slammed. Footsteps approached at a run. What was happening? A man opened the driver side door and got in. Jen screamed. She reached for him, clawing at his face. "Help me! Ron!" The windows were up. He wouldn't hear her.
"Shut the fuck up, bitch," the man said. He was dressed in a dark gray suit, black turtleneck shirt and dark sunglasses. Jen knocked the glasses askew as she slapped and clawed at him. He back-fisted her in the face.
Stars clouded her vision. For a moment, she was too dazed to process what was happening. All she knew was that she was in grave danger. The urge to flee dominated her thoughts, but she couldn't get out. She was trapped.
Then another set of tires on gravel accompanied the growl of an engine. A black SUV slid to a diagonal stop in front of the truck, blocking its path. Things happened so fast, Jen could barely follow. A man got out and ducked behind his car, pointing a gun over its hood at the would-be kidnapper beside her. "Get out of the car!" the gunman shouted. Then Ron came around the corner with his own weapon drawn. Everyone was yelling. The car behind them took off in a spray of gravel.
The man beside her put his hands up and got out. More shouting: "Get down!" "On the ground. Now!" "Spread your arms!"
All Jen could think about was getting out of that truck and running like hell from the chaos and danger. She was crying in fear and panic, unable to get free of the seatbelt.
"Shut off the engine," Ron shouted. Jen heard the metallic jingle and click of handcuffs.
Her door opened, and then someone was beside her. "Hold still, Jen. I'll get you out of there." The voice, deep and rich, calmed her instantly. He reached past her, shut off the engine then unbuckled her belt.
The straps released her. She was free. A large, warm hand helped her out. Only then did she look up and recognize his face. "Mitch? Is it really you?"
He took her into his arms. "It's me, sweetheart. You're safe now. I've got you."
She could hardly believe she wasn't dreaming of Mitch's strong arms around her, the gentle, soothing scent of his aftershave, and the sound of his heartbeat strong and comforting beneath his hard, muscular chest. "Mitch," she whispered. "Please, don't leave me." She wrapped her arms around his waist and clutched fistfuls of his shirt.
"I won't. I'm right here." He held her closely until she stopped sniffling and relaxed her grip. "Are you hurt?" He pulled back to look her over.
"That son of a bitch hit me," she said, gingerly touching her throbbing left eye. The lid was starting to swell.
Mitch turned her chin so he could get a look. "We'll get some ice for that. You'll have a nasty bruise for a few days."
The sound of sirens approached. "The cops are here. You called them?"
"My boss did."
"How did you know where to find me?"
He kissed her forehead. "I'll tell you later. Right now, I've got to deal with them. Wait here."
Jen watched while Mitch and Ron conferred with the half-dozen Illinois state police officers who'd arrived. After handing the suspect over to them, the two U.S. Deputy Marshals then spoke privately for a minute, occasionally glancing at Jen. Mitch's body language was commanding and sure, while Ron's was defeated and submissive. After a moment, Mitch clapped him on the shoulder and they shook hands.
"Let's get your stuff out of Ron's truck. I'm taking you from here," Mitch said.
Jen smiled broadly. She wanted to throw her arms around him and kiss him but figured there would be plenty of time to thank him properly once they were alone.