by Hart, Lane
Quincey actually snorts out a laugh before she says, “That’s it! So you do remember your ex-husband! Honestly, girl, I don’t think we’re missing much.”
“Very true,” I agree. “My vibrator is available anytime I need it, and it’s pretty easy to imagine that I’m with the hottie model from Tinder, even if I’ll never—” My sentence trails off when the tinkling sound of the bar door opening grabs my attention. Then in walks… “Holy shit,” I mutter. Slapping Quincey on her shoulder repeatedly to get her to turn around and look behind her, I say, “Quince, it’s him! It’s really him!”
“Sure, it is,” she drawls sarcastically with a roll of her eyes before she cranes her neck around to see for herself. “Slap my ass sideways! I think he just blinked and put his baby in me!”
That’s the moment when the gorgeous blond man in the navy-blue suit locks eyes with me from across the room and grins in recognition. As he comes closer, he not only looks at me like we’ve met before, but his eyes lower, taking in every inch of me on the bar stool and surprisingly enough, there’s not an ounce of disappointment on his face.
“Peyton?” the hottie asks when he’s standing next to me.
“Ah, y-yeah,” I stammer. “That’s me. And you’re…you.”
“Henry Aycock,” he says, as he holds out his large hand and flashes me a dazzling, perfect row of white teeth. I shake his hand, even with my jaw still hanging open like an idiot. His palm isn’t soft like most lawyers I’ve met. It’s actually strong and calloused, like he’s spent some time working with them. “And you’re…even more beautiful in person,” Henry adds, with a wink of one of his beautiful denim blue eyes that nearly makes me hyperventilate.
For the first time in my life, and despite all of my self-consciousness about my Amazonian size, I actually believe his compliment because he’s looking at me like there’s no other woman in the world. Or at least he was looking at me like that, until his eyes shift over to Quincey.
“And you are?” he turns to ask her while reaching to shake her hand. And no lie, she giggles when their palms touch.
“My friend Quincey was just leaving,” I blurt out because it’s been three-hundred and ninety-seven days since I was with a man. While I’m not the type of woman to sleep with someone I just met, I don’t want to lose out on the possibility. That is, if he’s still interested in me. In person, maybe he decided he’s not, and he’s just trying to be polite rather than turn around and run.
“You brought a friend to meet a stranger,” Henry says. “That’s smart.”
“No offense. It’s just, well, I work with criminals every day,” I say, to try to explain why I didn’t trust him enough to meet him alone, leaving off the part about thinking he wasn’t really the guy in the photo.
“Oh, right. You said you’re an ATF agent,” he replies. “The world’s a dangerous place for a single woman,” he adds coolly. “Quincey can stay if you would prefer…”
I’m shaking my head before he finishes his sentence. “You’re fine.” Shit. “I mean, I’m fine…we’re fine. Quincey doesn’t need to stay and babysit,” I stammer, flashing her a pointed look that says, please move your ass so he can sit down next to me.
Grinning at me and then back to the handsome man, Quincey thankfully says, “That’s right, I have to get going, but Henry, you should take my seat. It was nice meeting you.”
“You too,” he agrees.
Quincey then gets up, throws her purse over her shoulder, and brushes past him.
“See ya tomorrow, Quince,” I tell her quickly before turning back to the sexy attorney. “Have a seat. I mean, unless you don’t want to now that you’ve seen me…”
“Thanks,” he says when he removes his black leather briefcase I just noticed was on his shoulder and climbs on the bar stool. In fact, it’s nearly identical to mine.
Incredibly relieved he didn’t feel the need to bolt, but not sure what else to say, I decide to point out the bag similarities. “Looks like we both have the same taste in briefcases.”
“How about that,” Henry agrees, lowering his eyes to examine the side-by-side briefcases. “My mother bought me this one for Christmas. It was the last gift she gave me before the cancer took her…”
“Oh, wow. I’m so sorry,” I tell him, since that’s really freaking sad.
“It’s okay,” he says. “She was a good woman taken from us too soon.”
“I’m sure she was.”
“Anyway, I’m so sorry I was running late,” Henry says, as he reaches up to loosen the knot of his tie. “I got held up in trial.”
“Oh really? What kind of case?” I ask, picking up my martini and taking a sip to make myself stop staring at him.
“It’s horrible,” he says, and when I can’t help but look at him again, his perfect face is pinched. “Little Jenny is only nine years old. She was getting off the bus when some idiot came roaring around it and hit her. The poor thing is now wheelchair-bound for life.”
“That is awful,” I agree.
“Don’t worry,” he says with a wink. “We’re gonna get Jenny enough money to make her as comfortable as possible. I promised to take her to Disney World myself once we get a verdict.”
“Aww, that’s really sweet.”
How is it possible for a man to look like him and then be such a sweetheart?
“Enough about me,” Henry says as he rests an elbow on the bar and leans in a little closer toward me, close enough to trail his finger up the sleeve of my suit jacket. “I want to know about you.”
“There’s not much to know,” I tell him. “I’m an agent for the Department of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms, and Explosives. My field office is in Atlanta, but the Eastern District needed my help on a few cases, so here I am in Raleigh, for who knows how long.”
“How do you like it here?” Henry asks.
“It’s nice and a little quieter than Atlanta.” I examine his left hand to see if there’s a tan line from a wedding ring. There’s none. The guy is too good to be true. “My ex-husband is still in Atlanta, so it’s nice to put some distance between us,” I say as a segue into the subject. “What about you? Have you ever been married?”
“No,” he answers. “First, it was all-in for law school, and then it took time to establish my practice. It wasn’t until I lost my mother that I wished I would’ve settled down sooner, so that she could have met my wife before she passed away.”
“Yeah.” That makes sense. “Any…kids?” I ask, since you don’t have to be hitched to make a baby.
“No kids,” he replies with a grin. “You?”
“Nope. Not yet.”
“But maybe later?” he asks, and it almost sounds naughty, like he’s asking if I’m going to sleep with him tonight.
“Maybe later,” I agree. “Just not too soon.”
The truth is, I would break my own rule and take him home right now if not for my serious case of self-consciousness. It’s just that this man is intimidating, which is a new sensation for me. I carry a badge and a gun. Not much unnerves me, but the Hollywood good looks and winning personality are too much. Before I sleep with someone of Henry’s magnitude, I feel like I need to be more prepared, like with a full body wax or thousands of dollars’ worth of plastic surgery. There’s no way I’m ready to get naked in front of him, even if I really, really want to.
Would it be weird if I asked him if he had a tiny cock? Proving that not every inch of him is perfect would make me more inclined to end my drought tonight.
“Can I get you another drink?” Henry asks, as if he senses I need more liquid courage to just keep sitting here with him.
“Sure,” I agree because I’m not ready to leave his presence just yet, even if I am out of my league. He’s still here at least, talking to me, so either he’s taking pity on me or he’s still interested despite the fact that he’s a twenty on the hotness scale of ten, and I’m only a six or seven on my best days.
The two of us keep up the small talk for an hou
r before I find myself getting far too drawn into him than is smart. I need to abort before I beg him to let me see him naked just once, even if he’ll be disappointed in the quid pro quo.
“So, it’s been really nice meeting you, but I better head on home,” I tell him.
“So soon? I was having a great time talking to you.”
“Yeah, I have to get up early for work tomorrow,” I reply, warming all over because of his sweet words.
“Well, in that case, how about I walk you to your car?” he offers.
“Sure,” I agree, even though I’m never concerned for my safety with all of the law enforcement and self-defense training I have under my belt.
I pick up my briefcase to grab the cash from my wallet, but Henry says, “I’ve got this.”
“Thanks,” I tell him and then hang my bag on my shoulder while I wait for him to lay down a few twenties and grab his own satchel.
“Ready?” he asks.
“Yes,” I reply.
We walk in silence the few blocks to my black Ford Interceptor SUV that’s parked in the basement level of the parking deck rented out to federal employees.
“This is me,” I say, coming to a stop next to it.
“It looks…exactly like what I would imagine an agent driving,” Henry tells me with a chuckle.
“Right,” I agree.
I start to reach for the rear door to stow my briefcase when Henry suddenly says, “Wait.”
When I turn around, he’s digging into the front breast pocket of his suit jacket. He pulls out a small white business card and offers it to me. “My cell number is on here if you would like to go to dinner sometime?”
“Thanks,” I tell him as I take the crisp card and read his name—Henry S. Aycock—and contact info written neatly in raised, golden font. “Dinner would be great.”
“It was really nice to meet you,” Henry says, taking a step closer.
“You too,” I reply as I slip the card into the front of my pants pocket and look up at his handsome face. At five-ten, I’m almost as tall as most men in heels, but not Henry. I like that he makes me feel petite and delicate, even if I’m the furthest thing from that.
“Can I be honest with you for a second?” he asks.
“Ah, sure.”
“I’ve been dying to kiss you since the second I laid eyes on you, but I don’t know if that would be too much too soon,” he says as his beautiful blue gaze lowers to my lips, causing my breath to escape my own in a gasp of surprise.
“A, ah, a kiss would be…nice,” I’m eventually able to respond.
The words barely leave my mouth before Henry swoops in. I was expecting a soft, gentle goodnight kiss, but what I get is him pressing the front of his body against mine so hard that my back hits the side of my SUV. And then he’s kissing me with enough tongue to make my panties instantly go wet from his unexpected show of dominance. His hand weaves into the side of my hair to tilt my head for maximum impact, simultaneously making my knees go weak.
It’s the hottest, dirtiest kiss I’ve ever had, and I don’t ever want it to end.
Letting my briefcase fall from my shoulder with a thud on the pavement that I don’t even care about, I wrap one hand around Henry’s neck and the other on his lower back to pull him closer, wanting to feel him. And boy, do I feel him.
He doesn’t have a tiny dick.
No, he’s thick and so long that the hardness in his pants stretches from above my belly button all the way down between my thighs.
Before I know what the hell I’m doing, I lift my left leg to hang it on his hip, practically humping him in a public parking garage. But it feels too good to stop. He feels too good pressed against me, hammering his substantial manhood between my thighs like he’s just as desperate for me as I am for him. That’s impossible, though.
Henry pulls his mouth away from mine on a groan then starts to kiss the side of my neck while we both pant, trying to catch our breath. “Stop grinding on me like that unless you want me to tear off your pants right here, right now, to give you every inch you’re rubbing up on,” he warns me, his voice deeper, harsher than before. “You’ve got five seconds to decide…” With a pump of his hips, he drives himself into me deeper, and I nearly combust on a whimper.
“Do you have a condom?” I ask, not even recognizing my own voice or the craving that’s swept over me.
“Fuck yes,” he answers, maybe even a tad too quickly. Of course this man carries condoms on him at all times. He probably goes through a box a week. But it’s impossible to care about that right now with his damp lips moving along the column of my neck, causing goose bumps to spread up and down my arms. Embarrassingly enough, I even shiver. Never before have I ever felt this way—like I would die if this man doesn’t do something to relieve the throbbing ache inside of me.
With his arm banded around my back, Henry yanks me forward to open the passenger door of my car. He kisses me deeply for a few more minutes before he grabs my hips and spins me around, putting my back to his front. His hands reach around and easily undo the front of my pants, then his big palm pressed on my upper back, guiding me down so my cheek is resting on the car seat. My pants and panties lower to my knees, the weight of my gun holster and badge helping with the rapid descent.
“Holy shit!” I exclaim. I was expecting Henry’s cock, but what I got was the fluttering of his tongue on my hot needy flesh while one of his fingers teases my folds and then penetrates me.
It’s been years, years, since a man put his mouth on me, and I don’t remember it being this good before. Between my cries, I hear Henry’s muffled moans that vibrate against my clit, making me think he’s enjoying this as much as I am. He eventually removes his finger from inside of me to grip the front of my thighs. And then he’s pushing and pulling my hips back against his face while thrusting his tongue in and out of my slick opening, simulating fucking me. It’s incredibly erotic, so much so that it doesn’t take long before my legs start to tremble right before they lock. Liquid heat explodes from deep inside of me, and then I’m screaming through the rush of pleasure coursing through my entire body.
Henry’s tongue goes back to lashing at my clit until the tremors ease up.
“You were dripping wet for me,” he says, before placing a kiss on the plump part of my butt cheek, and runs a finger up the crease of my ass lewdly. “Was that good for you, Peyton?”
“God, yes,” I moan, unable to lift my head or move my weak limbs just yet.
“Glad to hear it,” he replies with a chuckle as he removes his hands and mouth from me. There’s a crinkling sound like a condom wrapper, then Henry says, “Ready for my cock?”
“Can’t wait,” I admit honestly.
“Let me roll this rubber on, and then I’m really gonna make you scream.”
Instead of innuendo, his words sound almost…ominous. That’s the first moment I start to think this—fooling around with a strange man—may have been a mistake, no matter how hot he is. I start to get up and call it good for the night right then and there, but realize that would be pretty messed up to give him blue balls after he gave me an incredible orgasm. So, I lie still and wait in the silence for him to fill me. Maybe he only meant that the sex will be better than the oral. I’m sure that’s all it was…
I keep waiting, but Henry doesn’t say anything else or touch me again.
“Everything okay?” I ask before I look over my shoulder…and see nothing but the car parked a few spaces down from my SUV. “Henry?”
When there’s no response, I push myself up and finally straighten to look around the garage while quickly pulling my panties and pants up my legs. “Henry?” I say again, but there’s not a person in sight. God, how embarrassing. I was bent over with my ass out and anyone could’ve seen me.
And what the hell happened to Henry?
Did he change his mind? Was it something I did?
Not wanting to wait around any longer, looking like an idiot, I grab my briefcase to throw it in t
he backseat so that I can get out of here, but it feels…incredibly light.
Oh no. Lifting the bag onto the passenger seat, I jerk on the zipper to open it and find nothing but a blank notepad inside.
Shit!
Not only did Henry bail on me, but he grabbed my briefcase instead of his!
Chapter Two
Dalton
I could’ve fucked her.
I knew from the moment I kissed her that she would let me do anything I wanted to her. God, her tongue plunged into my mouth with a desperate urgency that was contagious. I already wanted her, but once she got my blood flowing south, I had to get on my knees and taste her. Just putting her face down on the backseat would’ve been enough of a distraction for me to snatch her bag and run, but I couldn’t resist getting her off with my tongue at least once. Hell, I still can’t believe she was bent over, naked from the waist down with a glistening pussy, ready for the taking…and I walked away.
Licking my lips that still hold her delicious flavor, I realize that tonight may be the first time I’ve ever turned down a willing woman. But it just felt wrong to screw her before I screwed her over. That would be too much like taking advantage of her, and I swore that I would never do that to a woman. Casual sex? Hell yes. I’m all for one-night stands. But I’ll never use someone just because I can. Years ago, I was on the receiving end of such a shitty arrangement and I still haven’t gotten over it.
While I’m still hurrying back to my bike that’s parked a few blocks away from the bar, my burner phone starts vibrating in my pants pocket. I groan when it rouses my already hard-as-steel dick.
I can take a guess who is calling, since I used my actual number for the phony business cards.
The damn buzzing starts and stops against my aching shaft two more times before I’ve stowed Peyton’s briefcase in my saddle bag and hit the highway, riding east back to Emerald Isle.
It doesn’t take a genius to figure out what her voicemails will say, yet the first thing I do two hours later, after I back my bike in at the clubhouse and climb off, is hit play.
