South Island PD: Dark Blue Part 42

Jackson groaned. "You said you wouldn't call me that in public."

"We're not in public." Belle grinned.

"Face it, Jackson," Mariah said, "you've saved several lives on this island. And that's a good thing you help restore the faith s.h.i.tty cops like Sanders ruin."

Jackson was silent.

"Plus, you rescued my best friend from the grips of a depraved pervert." Mariah flashed a radiant smile. "You're my hero too, whether you like it or not. They should make a doc.u.mentary about you."

"It'd have to be a posthumous doc.u.mentary, because I'd rather die."

Mariah rolled her eyes. "I just watched you cuddle a puppy, remember? You can drop the tough cop act."

"No I can't. Just yesterday, the love of my life brought a coffee cup to a gun fight and saved my a.s.s from a few more bullet holes. I need all the bravado I can muster."

Mariah laughed. "You wouldn't want a shrinking violet, would you? Belle's a bada.s.s you two make the perfect couple."

Belle turned to face Jackson and rocked up onto her toes, pressing a kiss against his jaw. "She's right about us, although I don't know about the bada.s.s part."

He wrapped his arms around her. "She's right about that too. You acted when everyone else froze. I'm going to have to start calling you Warrior Princess."

"Well, now it's my turn to be embarra.s.sed. Can we call a truce on the cheesy nicknames?"

He looked thoughtful for a few seconds, then grinned. "Nah. Embarra.s.sing you is fun."

There was nothing better than a day on the Blue Mile with Belle in her bikini. Nothing.

"How about here?" She stood in the sand a few yards from the surf, striking a pose in her swimsuit, the beach bag slung over her shoulder.

"Okay." They'd hit the beach almost every day for the past couple weeks, since the incident at Tempest. Belle had been given time off work to recover physically and emotionally from her recent ordeals, and they were making the most of it.

He set down the small cooler he'd carried, then helped her spread out the blanket.

"I've got it," she said when he reached for the umbrella.

He started unpacking the cooler they'd filled with provisions for a picnic lunch.

The best Cubanos on the island, fruit salad, lemon cookies and sweet tea it was nothing fancy, but it was perfect for the occasion. And although Belle didn't know it, it was only the beginning of what he hoped would be one of the most memorable days of their lives.

After the unforgettable incidents they'd survived together, he was ready to add some positive memories to the list of things they'd never forget.

CHAPTER 40.

"Nice breeze," Belle said, sinking down to join him in the umbrella's shade. "And the water's so calm. I think this is the nicest day at the beach we've had all week."

"Glad you think so." He handed her a bottle of sweet tea.

As they ate, she watched the waves roll in.

He watched her, unable to look away. And when they were done, he took her by the hand. "Want to walk down to the pier?"

"Sure."

They walked slowly, hand in hand. After about fifteen minutes, they stood in the damp sand beneath the fishing pier, enveloped in its sanctuary of cool shadows.

They'd spent so much time hanging out there as kids, hiding from the sun. It was also where they'd become more than just friends, even if it'd only been for a day.

It seemed like a good place to change the nature of their relationship again.

He wanted to sink down on one knee, but that'd be awkward and painful. He wasn't willing to wait until his leg healed completely, so he turned to face Belle, still standing, and took her hand. "Princess."

Her half smile pulled on one corner of her mouth as her gaze locked with his. "What?"

"I love you, and I want to ask you something."

She tipped her head a few degrees to the side, and the sea breeze blew a wisp of hair in front of her eyes. "What is it?"

"Will you marry me?"

He reached into his pocket and pulled out the little black box he'd placed there that morning. The loose shorts he wore to keep his leg comfortable had also concealed the ring box.

He saw her lips part as she sucked in a breath, but the surf drowned out the sound.

"I know you've been down this road once before," he said, "but this will be nothing like that. You're already the most important person in the universe to me, and I swear it'll always be that way, no matter what your answer is. For the record though, I hope it's yes."

There was a split second of uninterrupted ocean noise, and then she smiled.

"Yes. Of course it's yes. There's no one I can compare you to, Jackson not from my present or my past."

He opened the box, revealing a golden band set with a shining diamond. "I hope you like it."

She smiled. "I love it."

After he slipped the ring onto her finger, the smile faded away as tears started to stream down her cheeks.

He stared, dismay dimming the high of her acceptance.

He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." She wrapped her arms around him too and raised shining eyes to meet his. "Nothing's wrong. I guess I'm just one of those people who cries at stuff like this. I'll probably cry at the wedding too."

"Tears of joy, I hope."

She nodded. "Mostly. Although I think some of them are sad tears when I think of how much worse things could've gone at that domestic call, or Tempest, and that this might've never happened..."

A tear rolled down her cheek, leaving a wet trail on her soft skin.

He wiped it away with his thumb. "It didn't, though."

"I know. And believe me, I'm glad."

"Not as glad as I am that you said yes."

She smiled. "You're wrong about that."

He didn't agree, but he didn't argue. He was just glad to see her smiling. They had the rest of their lives together to hash it out.

"I had no idea you were planning this," she said after a while, her arms still around him. "You're good at surprises."

"I wanted to ask you to marry me the moment I realized you'd thrown that cup of coffee, but it didn't seem like the best time."

He was dead serious. Not only had she saved his a.s.s with a cup full of Arabica, but she'd taken memories of someone who'd hurt her and turned them into ammunition she'd used to protect others. He liked to think that in a way, he'd done something similar when he'd stopped Sanders.

It was the twisted little b.a.s.t.a.r.d of a student who'd inspired her to throw the coffee, just as it was Jackson's father who'd driven him to oppose Sanders. It made him feel closer to her, and he loved her more for her strength.

Her smile widened. "Why not? You were already down on one knee, even if you were pinning a gunman to the floor."

"True, but there was no way I was going to let Sanders be part of this moment."

She held him tighter, and he couldn't hold back any longer he had to kiss her.

Crushing his mouth against hers, he tasted her soft lips. When she parted them to let his tongue meet hers, the most satisfying bliss he'd ever known gripped him like a vise. All he could think about was that if it felt this good to kiss his fiancee, it'd all but kill him with pleasure to f.u.c.k her.

"I don't want to hurt you." Belle straddled Jackson, completely naked. Her p.u.s.s.y was exposed, and his hard c.o.c.k rose up to meet it, the head almost kissing her lips.

The bare head. For the second time ever, they were going to f.u.c.k without a condom. She'd been on the pill for almost two months, but this'd be the first time they'd had real s.e.x since the shooting. For weeks they'd used their mouths and hands on each other, but Jesus, was he ready for this again.

"The only thing that hurts is waiting." His d.i.c.k was harder than he'd known it could get, throbbing so close to her hot flesh. He could feel the heat radiating from her body and it tortured him with visions of thrusting in and burying himself to the b.a.l.l.s.

She placed a hand on his shoulder, the curve of her ring pressing into his skin. It was as warm as her fingers, and he liked the feel of it there. The sight of the diamond shining on her finger, and the idea of her being his forever, made him groan with longing.

"Okay." She spread her knees a little wider, and her folds touched the tip of his c.o.c.k. "Just remember: we can stop if it's too much. We can stop and I can suck your c.o.c.k, or"

"You're killing me, Princess." He locked gazes with her. "I mean it. If you don't sit down on my d.i.c.k right now, the disappointment's going to kill me."

Her hand tightened on his shoulder, her nails just barely biting. The feeling caused an extra surge of l.u.s.t to rush southward through his veins, pooling in his groin.

His c.o.c.k was swollen, tight. A bead of moisture ran slowly down from the top, where her slick skin touched his. His b.a.l.l.s ached as if someone had them in their fist and was squeezing mercilessly.

When she lowered herself down, he groaned as if he were dying.

For a second, he thought maybe he was. Feeling her p.u.s.s.y stretch around his bare shaft made dying of pleasure seem completely possible.

He stared at her face, her shoulders and her hard, pink nipples anywhere but at her p.u.s.s.y, where her lips were split around the base of his erection. If he looked, he'd come before they even got started.

"Jackson..." Her voice was half sigh, half whisper. And then she rocked on top of him, her p.u.s.s.y tightening.

"f.u.c.k." He grabbed her hips and squeezed, pulling her down tighter on top of his lap. All he wanted was to get deeper inside her; the fact that it made his leg ache didn't matter. Nothing mattered, except for her and the way her p.u.s.s.y squeezed his shaft.

His heart pounded, and he wanted to pound into her. But the way she was rocking was so good, he couldn't bring himself to disrupt it.

He didn't know how long he could hold out, either. Not after so much deprivation and with this being only the second time they'd gone without a condom. It was just them, and the friction their bodies created was overwhelming, like a hit of a potent drug.

So he pressed fingertips to her c.l.i.t and rubbed until she started to moan.

The way her muscles tightened inside and outside and the way she squeezed her eyes shut echoed the sentiment those moans imparted. He waited to feel the first spasm strong enough to take his breath away, and it wasn't long before it came.

Her p.u.s.s.y clenched so tight it almost hurt, in the best way possible. He kept touching her c.l.i.t, raising his hips so that they were pressed hard against hers and his c.o.c.k drove deeper into her.

She gasped, and he kept up what he was doing until she stopped.

Afterward she leaned forward, pressing her upper body against his.

He wrapped his arms around her and thrust into her, groaning as her hair brushed his knuckles. She'd always been tight and warm, but without a condom, he could feel how wet she was, too.

There was no better feeling.

He kept thrusting, ignoring the way his thigh muscles protested. The pleasure outweighed the pain and he came so hard he forgot he'd ever been wounded, let alone that those wounds still hurt.

She clung to him as he poured into her, her nails digging into his shoulders.

He squeezed her a.s.s and had to work to catch the breath pleasure had knocked out of him. He only stopped moving when it hurt too much to continue, and then he held her close for a while before pulling out.

She lay on the bed beside him and he held her left hand, noting the contrast of her soft skin and the hard band of gold she'd let him put on her finger that day.

"Are we going to move in together before the wedding?" he asked.

She smiled. "We practically have already. When was the last time you spent the night at your own place?"

"I'll take that as a yes."

"When are you going to break the news to Elijah?"

"Today, if you're serious."

"I am." She tightened her grip on his hand. "Life is short and strange. I want to spend every day I can with you."