26. Reid
Chapter 26
Reid
“ F UCK, REID, YES !”
Willa’s thighs squeeze my head as she bucks and writhes, lost to the orgasm.
I give her no time to recover, rolling on a condom and rising to thrust into her as I stand on the ground, her legs thrown up against me. “Don’t stop coming, gorgeous.”
Her eyes widen as her pussy clenches around my cock, a pink blush blooming on her body. I piston into her, desperate to keep her going as she whimpers and mews.
I woke up to her kissing her way to my cock, but fuck if I was going to come before she did. So I flipped us, yanked her to the edge of the mattress, and buried my face in her pussy.
I want this forever. I don’t know how to make that happen.
My own release builds quickly, not helped by the vision of this beautiful woman before me, her dark hair tousled by sleep, her blue eyes hazy with lust and pleasure, her tits bouncing with every thrust into her, and those lips, moaning and telling me things that make me believe this could last forever.
Her walls pulse hard around my cock, and I yell as I come inside her, nearly blacking out in the wake of it .
She laughs as I pull out and stumble to the bathroom to get rid of the condom. She’s sitting upright when I return, her eyes bright and full of mischief. “Is that gonna happen every morning I try to give you a blowjob? Because if so, sign me up.”
“You’re trouble,” I chide, shaking my head.
Sliding off the bed and closing the distance between us, she wraps her arms around me and kisses my chest. “But I’m the best kind, right?”
I smack her ass. “Definitely. Come on—I’ll start the shower.”
There are two words to describe me: possessed and obsessed.
Possessed with an unwavering need to find the asshole who shot my uncle.
Obsessed with the way Willa told me she loved me. Not just yesterday, but this morning, too, as she got out of my truck in front of the diner.
Even though I didn’t quite say it back. But I do. Love her, that is. It’s just…what happens now? I’ve got four weeks left in this town.
How am I supposed to do this?
My hands itch to pick up the phone and call Dad, to hear him give me shit and tell me I know exactly what to do. But I don’t. Because what I really should be focused on is who shot my uncle. Finding that asshole and putting him behind bars. Or in the ground if he’s dumb enough to try anything.
Honestly, I wish he would.
“Mind if I use Chief’s office?” I ask Betty, tilting my head toward the only place in the station with a door. “I need to make a call. ”
She peers up at me. “You trying to find who did this to our chief?”
“Obviously,” I deadpan.
She sniffs. “Fine. But don’t get comfortable in there—Chief will be back before you know it.”
“I’m counting on it.”
In the office, I close the door and take a deep breath. I need to be calm when I tell Chief Mu?oz what happened yesterday. After a moment, I punch his number.
“MacKinnon.”
“They shot my uncle.” My voice shakes, all pretense of calm wiped away as soon as I open my mouth. “They fucking shot my uncle, Chief.”
“Chief MacKinnon?”
“The very same.”
Mu?oz swears. “The DA is back on track. We grabbed another one of their grunts and he’s rolling on them for a deal.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “That’s good, but how’s that helping me find who did this?”
He sighs. “You know the routine, MacKinnon. Work the case. Follow the evidence. And for fuck’s sake, lay low.”
“That ship has sailed, Chief.” I relay the rabbit feet and my security cameras giving me nothing.
He swears again. “What the hell have you been doing up there? What part of ‘lie low’ did you not understand? It was a mistake allowing you to patrol.”
“Probably,” I admit, recalling Willa’s question yesterday. “Definitely, in fact. But what’s done is done.” I don’t bother mentioning that my picture is probably all over at least twenty different tourists’ social media pages.
Besides, I’m certain—well, fairly certain—that it wasn’t those pages that outed me. It was JJ. “I still don’t know how they picked up that I was up here, Chief. To be honest, it’s all a little fishy. ”
He snorts. “You think? Just do what I said: Work the case.”
“Yes, sir.”
We finish the call, and shame twists in my gut. If I’d been more careful—hell, if I hadn’t come to this town at all—my uncle wouldn’t be lying in a hospital room recovering from a gunshot wound absolutely intended to kill him. But then I wouldn’t have met Willa. I groan, frustrated. This whole thing is shit. I can’t play the what-if game, or I’ll drive myself crazy. Yanking the door so hard it slams against the wall, I stalk to Betty’s desk. She looks up from her romance novel, an eyebrow raised.
“Was that really necessary?”
“You look way too much like your mother when you do that,” I retort.
She blanches. “A helpful hint, Reid: Don’t ever tell a woman she’s just like her mother.”
I chuckle. “Fair enough. I need your help—but quietly. Can you get me the logs of every single call that’s come into the station over the past two months?”
“That’s a decent number of calls, Officer MacKinnon,” she says, her mouth tipped up in a satisfied smile. “You got an idea brewing?”
“I might.”
A few hours later, I have a headache from reviewing all the data. But I also have a hunch.