Wednesday, 2 November 2016

In HIS Custody - Resisting A Hot, Alpha Jailer! WIP It Up

Hi All
Welcome to Wip It Up Wednesday. My excerpt to day is from my e-serial Her Keeper2 - In HIS Custody. I'm actually tweaking the whole second series. I've pulled it from Amazon until I've finished the next episode. It's coming along gradually. In this excerpt, Sara is coming to terms with being court ordered into Rick's custody. A big thank you to my beta readers for suggestions.


I bang and stomp miserably around the bedroom. The memory of the moment Judge Matthews’ gavel crashed down on my freedom churns inside me. Close to tears, I vent my fury on Rick’s designer furniture. I’m glad that I’m wearing boots, considering how often I kick the solid oak bedstead while making it up.
My stomping soon becomes aimless. I’ve pretty much exhausted all I can do in the room. My stomach growls and I wonder how I can satisfy it without accepting food from Rick. I ease open the door and take a stealthy look out. There’s no sight of him. The distant, muffled sound of his voice eases towards me. The direction of the sound tells me he’s out on the deck. It sounds like he’s on the phone. I can only make out a few words here and there. The words ‘Mom’ and ‘pissed at me’ float towards me through the open glass door.
I let out a slow breath when the weariness in his voice gets to me even through the muffled sounds. Their might even be contrition in his tone. I imagine his mom’s solid common sense comments on the other end of the conversation. Mara Andrews has always favoured me. I know she’s taken Rick to task over his treatment of me more than once. The idea that she might be supporting me now almost makes me feel better.
My stomach grumbles some more. Maybe I should eat with him. It’s not like I have to be nice to him. The image of me sitting with him sharing a meal in dignified, silent reproach while he squirms in abject contrition starts to appeal. A step towards using that power Lisa was talking about. I’m just about to make my way out to the deck when his cell rings again. I recognize Luke’s ringtone.
I’m closer now and his words are clearer. Through the glass door I can see the rain has stopped and the last rays of the autumn sun have dried the deck and no doubt the sand in front of it. An evening barbeque is growing more and more appealing. Rick’s first words to Luke make me feel even better. His rueful, “What do you think?” definitely sounds a bit tortured. At least he’s suffering for his crimes. I stop as he pauses to listen to Luke. Might as well let him finish the conversation. I don’t even feel guilty about eavesdropping. Not after his betrayal. His next words make me wish I’d been more scrupulous.
The hell she will, but she’ll learn to put up with it…’
Gasping, I turn and head back to the bedroom before he finishes his sentence. I don’t want to hear any more. The arrogant, heartless bastard!! How dare he! I stomp back in. I just manage not to slam the door and sit furiously on the bed consumed with angry misery. I yelp and wince loudly as the mattress reminds me of our time in the interrogation room. I shift and groan. The desire to rotate and push into the pleasure pain of my glowing, welted ass and the memory of the pulse of the dual penetration of the plug and him hard inside me is unbearable. I’m swept away by the hotness of that memory. I want nothing more than to open the zipper of my jeans and slip my hands into my panties to massage my throbbing clit and plunge my fingers into my wet channel.
No way! Not after what I just heard. I thrust my clenched fists into the bed, then twist the comforter in my hands. Resist! I have to resist this feeling as much as I have to resist my more tender feelings for Rick or better yet Detective Prick as Lisa likes to call him. Lisa’s features and tone of voice flash into my mind at that thought and I’m overtaken by spontaneous laughter. The laughter bubbles up and consumes me and I know I’m verging on hysteria. I indulge it. The release feels good. I lie back onto the bed and give way to gusts of laughter. Before I know it, I‘m bawling my eyes out. Deep sobs come in gulps.
Rick’s urgent inquiry sounds through the door. I can tell he’s hovering on the other side of it, weighing up whether he should respect the line I’ve drawn or come in. I know if I don’t answer him he’ll cross that line. That’s just who he is.
“Go away!” I yell through hiccups and sniffs. Yeah right! Even I’m not convinced I want him to leave.
Rick doesn’t fall for it either. Through my tears I feel his solid, warm body beside me on the bed and then I’m in his arms. I struggle against him, thrashing backwards and forwards in his hold. His hold tightens. I manage to break away a little, kicking against him. I pound his chest, again and again, desperate to fight the overwhelming desire to sink into his embrace. To surrender.
“Stop it, Sara. Let me hold you. Let me take care of you.” His voice is an urgent whisper. 
It stills me, calming my urge to fight. Until the moment in the courtroom and the clutch of my gut at the proclamation of the sentence hits me again. Trusting him has got me nowhere except court ordered into his custody. My stillness has encouraged him to relax his hold and I’m able to pull away and look at him. I struggle to ignore the melting concern in his mocha gaze and stare at him accusingly, my voice scathing. 
“Yeah, right! Like you took care of me at the court house? Like you vacated the warrant? Sure. Why not? That worked out just fine.”
Guilt flashes across his face. His eyes wince at the sarcasm in my tone. His hold lessens even more at the green fire of rebuke I flash at him. I escape from his embrace and we both sit up. I fight the urge to relent at his loss of face. Instead, I feed my satisfaction. It doesn’t feel as satisfying as you’d think. I’m beginning to realize that the surety of Rick Andrew’s always being right is one of the necessities of my life.
That’s what angers and upsets me the most. How dare he fail to be perfect! I need him to piss me off with his justified challenges. To always know, argue and do what’s best for me. I may have stubbornly held a grudge for eight years, but deep down, despite the objections I voiced to Lisa, I never truly doubted that it was my own recklessness that earned me that trip across his knee.
Just like all the other times over the years when we kept butting heads. I knew his advice was sound and that I should listen more. Every time I went up against him it was because I longed for him to rein me in, to step up and take me in hand. When he finally did, my surrender felt like coming home. Liberating. But there’s no way I can justify his going along with Judge Matthews sentence.
No. All I can do is hate him because now he’s squarely in the wrong. I swallow. My mouth tastes bitter and my stomach churns at this new stark reality. A world where the love of my life can screw up indefensibly.
I fight to keep my feelings from showing, but I suspect my despondency creeps through enough to be visible. I’m sure of it when the guilt on his face disappears and concern melts him again. He reaches for me. A river of his tenderness flows towards me. Hell no! I need to avoid that. I pull further away from him and jump up from the bed, my fists clenched.
“Go to hell, asshole! You really think you can romance your way out of this? Act like you delivered on your promise. Like fuck! You delivered exactly what you threatened in Ginny’s. Even when I followed your stupid orders. Don’t even think of touching me, you jackass!!”
Anger flares in his eyes for a moment and then the determined look I’m used to seeing strengthens his handsome features. He stands up, dwarfing me. I feel his power pulsing against my body before he moves back to give me the space I demand. I can feel my control slip even further in contrast to his measured actions.
He folds his arms and fixes me with his clear, chocolate gaze. His voice is solid, unwavering. “It might not have turned out the way we planned with Lisa earlier, but you were still only sentenced under a bylaw. Your offence stays in this town and disappears at the end of the year served. Your record’s clean and you’re not in jail. So! Yeah! I delivered! Just as I promised.”
I snort inelegantly, effectively expressing my disdain at his claims
He straightens, his arms dropping to his sides. His fists clench, mirroring mine. His face and voice take on a stern fury that doesn’t bode well for my ability to sit. “And I promise I’ll deliver a hellava a lot more if you keep up this attitude, little girl!”
I’m too incensed to heed his warning. Or maybe I want to push. Hell, maybe this is what I’m pushing for. A flash of triumph rages through me. Victory at arousing the tiger in him prompts me to push him even further. This is what excites me about our bouts. The freedom to give vent to my unrestrained anger banishes my fears and even my misery. My heart pounds as I stare into the furious face of the man I love. The fierce passion in these moments binds us together as irrevocably as our lovemaking.
“Don’t you dare threaten me. You’ve no right over me after your betrayal in court. My record may be clean, but you really think this won’t have an effect on my reputation! I struggle enough to gain respect in this town. You think any of that will survive my sentence? Ordered into your custody as a wayward woman under a colonial bylaw! I’m going to be a laughing stock! Just when I’m going back into private practice. Lisa unearthed that bylaw to protect me and you male chauvinist jerks used it for just the opposite! And you bet I’m in jail! With a lying, two faced fucker as my jailer!”

To be continued...

If you haven't read Rick and Sara's love story the first book with HFN ending is available as episodes or a complete book.


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