Page 127 of On A Manhunt: Complete Series

MALLORY

I drove past Mrs. Jonsdottir’s house at a crawl.

I did it several times a week, just to stare and dream.

Just like a guy who passed a fancy sports car in a dealer’s lot he desired, I pined for the little place.

Mrs. Jonsdottir once shared that it had been her parents’ house and they’d bought it as a kit from the Sears Roebuck store, which I found fascinating.

It had come in pieces on the railroad, and they’d assembled it with instructions, just like a Lego set.

I pulled over across the street to eye it dreamily.

I assumed the white clapboard siding was the original color.

The older woman kept the house in perfect condition, but I knew I’d paint the porch ceiling a robin’s egg blue to add more vintage flair.

The two shrubs that flanked the front steps would be replaced by hydrangeas since it faced north and would be shady.

I had plans. Lots of them.

My cell rang and I grabbed it from my purse. My mother. I sighed, tossed it back in the bag, ignored. I didn’t even have to wonder what she wanted.

She was a reminder that it would take longer now to get the house.

I owed Bridge for the plane ticket. I had to get another one or pay for the gas to drive.

And a lawyer. I would get the money for bail back if I was acquitted and that would go to Bridge.

Well, if I wasn’t acquitted, then I’d have bigger problems than losing that money.

I’d lose my job as well. There wasn’t a chance of buying from Mrs. Jonsdottir or anyone else after that.

The charges were going to be dropped. They were. They had to be. Like Aspen always said, use positive energy and manifest the outcome you wanted.

I wanted to buy Mrs. Jonsdottir’s house. Therefore I wouldn’t have a record and I’d have money to pay for it.

Positive energy. Positive energy!

It was so hard to be upbeat and cheery–like I was with my class of kids all day–when I had all this looming.

There was one way to forget about it all, at least for a little while.

Theo.

He’d invited me to come to his place at six. Not invited, told.

I pulled away and drove the few blocks to the little house Dex used to stay in but was now Theo’s.

He was waiting for me in the open doorway as I came up the walk. He wore the same clothes as he had at school in what I called his doctor-wear, khakis or dark pants and a variety of crisp button ups. Now though, his feet were bare.

“All the kids could talk about for the rest of the day was farting,” I told him. “The playground monitor said it was a noisy recess.”

A movement in the corner of my eye had me glancing to the right. By one of the little shrubs that lined the front of the house was a thin calico cat eating from a dish. He paused long enough to eye me warily. He went back to eating but looked prepared to bolt at any second.

“You have a cat?”

He shrugged. “Stray. He’s been around and I’ve been feeding him. He used to run off, skittish and all, but he’s getting a little better.”

I stared at the cat a little longer, surprised at the gesture. “Oh.”

The corner of his mouth quirked up. “You’re late.”

My heart skipped a beat at his serious tone, contrasting with the playfulness in his dark eyes, and it wasn’t because of the cat. Why did I like that tone? That look? The way he loomed. He was intense. Everything about him was… potent.

He also felt… uncomplicated. There didn’t seem to be any ulterior motive with him. He said come over at six because he’d be hungry. For me.

What he said, he meant. Compared to my mother, whose every word was passive aggressive or straight-out guilt. She knew how to work me to get what she wanted. Theo did, too. Oh, he did. He could work me right to an orgasm. Except he had no ulterior motive. Not even reciprocation.

He might be abrupt, but he was also refreshing. I knew where I stood with him. Right now, that was at his house to get sex. Sex he offered and I seemed content to accept.

“I stopped by the house I want to buy,” I explained why I wasn’t here on time, five minutes ago.

He stepped back and let me enter. “Didn’t know you were looking for a place.”

I set my purse down. “I found the one, but it’ll be a little while.” I explained how Mrs. Jonsdottir was going to eventually sell to me, leaving out why it might be delayed.

“Which house?” he asked, closing the door behind him.

“On Maple, the white Sears and Roebuck.”

“Good for you. Now strip. I’m hungry and want to eat your pussy.”

Back to serious. Seriously dominant.

I held up my hand. “I’m all for a voracious pussy eater, but aren’t you skipping a few steps?”

He frowned, looked down my body as if trying to figure out what those steps were.

I tapped my lips. “We’ve never even kissed.”

He moved close, stroked my hair back. I breathed in his scent. A hint of spicy cologne or body wash. “You want romance?”

I frowned. “Kissing is what you consider romance? Did you not kiss your past lovers?”

His eyes shifted from mine and glanced over my shoulder, deep in thought, which answered my question.

“Never mind. I don’t really want to talk about women you’ve been with. I’m not asking for a proposal. Just… kissing.”

“You wanted to sleep with the history teacher,” he stated.

I nodded. “Yeah, I want sex, but I don’t want a transaction.”

“What’s the difference?”

I blinked. Then again. When he waited patiently for me to respond, I realized he was serious. He really didn’t know. He really didn’t kiss women he fucked?

“Um, well…” What were the women like he’d been with? Hookers? That made me laugh because to the eyes of the Las Vegas Police Department, I was one. “Fun.”

“Fun.”

I nodded. “Fun.”

“You want me to make licking your pussy fun?”

I frowned. “Isn’t it? Is it a chore? Ugly? Weird or something? I’ve heard of meat curtains and maybe I have them. Something like hemorrhoids would be a turnoff, not that I have one or anything, but–”

He put a finger over my lips, full on smiling now.

“No guy looks at a pussy and thinks meat curtains.”

“Okay.”

“Your pussy isn’t ugly, Mallory. Last night, I showed you how hard you get me.”

“I saw a bulge,” I clarified. “No actual body parts.”

“You want to see my dick?” he asked, dark brow raised.

I raised one back, waited. Game on.

He grinned, as if silently saying Hold my beer.

Stepping back, he plucked open the button on his pants, slid down the zipper so they slid down his hips. I held my breath as he reached into the opening and beneath his boxers to pull himself out.

And there it was. Theo’s really big, really hard dick.

He gripped the base in one hand, and I still saw inches of the steely length. Flared head, small slit at the top. I’d seen dicks before. Movies. Porn. Photos online. This was the first in-person one and it was impressive.

My pussy clenched in anticipation. My favorite dildo was huge, but comparable in size to Theo. Since it was called King Cock, that meant Theo was huge.

“See? This is for you,” he said, his voice going deeper.

I’d never wanted to give a blow job before. The idea hadn’t ever been that appealing. Porn usually showed a woman practically choking on it, with streams of mascara running down her face. She looked… miserable.

But Theo’s dick made my mouth water. I wanted to know what it felt like against my tongue. What it tasted like.

The women I’d been arrested with, Trixie and Annie, the actual hookers, had given me some pointers.

Sex pointers. We’d had hours stuck in lockup and conversation had been easy.

I was far from introverted and could talk with anyone.

However, I quickly discovered I was boring in comparison to them.

There wasn’t too much a first-grade teacher could share that was interesting, especially one who’d only had sex once when she was sixteen.

But two high-class call girls? Heck, I’d wanted to know everything, so I asked.

By the time we’d been taken to the courthouse, I’d had quite the sex education lesson.

Including how to make a man lose his mind and have him eating out of the palm of my hand. I had something else Theo could eat out, but from Annie’s lessons, I understood the power a woman could have on her knees.

I lifted my gaze, held Theo’s. Smiled. I was definitely game for trying out something I learned. Maybe the few hours in lockup would pay off.

“I want to put it in my mouth,” I said. “Suck you.”

Three things happened at once. Theo’s eyes went dark and heated. His cheeks flushed with arousal and his dick grew in his grip.

“First time?” he asked, giving himself one long, slow pump.

I nodded, licked my bottom lip as a bead of pre-cum seeped from the slit.

“Don’t worry, I’ll like anything you do.”

I dropped to my knees, thought back on what my call girl BFF shared, then licked the head like a lollipop.