Cutter's Law

by Judith Rochelle

  Allison looked up at the sound of Morgan's voice. “Just blatant sexual misconduct by the loving couple,” she teased.

  He took off his Stetson, lowered himself into one of the big leather armchairs and stretched out his legs. “If anyone offered me a beer I wouldn't turn it down."

  Ryan pulled two from the refrigerator behind the bar, popped off the tops and handed one to his brother. “I'd make you get your own, but after the week you've had I think you deserve a little waiting on."

  Allison looked over at Morgan, her eyes taking in the fatigue lines in his face and the circle under his eyes. He looked worried as much as exhausted. “More troubles?"

  "No.” He took a long pull on the bottle. “But the ones we've got won't go away. We still have no identification on the body. I've sent out faxes allover the state, but no one's responded. And I have no idea who the hell broke into my house."

  "Or why they would in the first place,” Ryan added. “It takes balls to hit the police chief."

  "Well, let's try to put it aside and focus on fun for the weekend,” Paige said. She plopped herself down on Ryan's lap. “We're having a wedding, remember?"

  "As if anyone could forget,” Allison kidded.

  Later, when they had eaten, she followed Morgan outside to a corner of the yard. He was standing with his hands in his pockets, tension running through his body. She slipped an arm through his. “Isn't the night gorgeous?"

  "You bet. Made to order."

  The sky was so clear it might have been washed, and stars flickered like candles millions of miles away. A soft breeze carried the scent of fresh hay and cattle and the sycamore trees that shaded the house and the yard.

  "When I was a little girl,” Allison told him, “I used to think if I had a fast horse I could ride up to all the stars and pick them for a bouquet."

  Morgan gave a dry chuckle. “You'd need a fast horse for that. And one that could leap pretty high."

  "Oh, I know. But it was fun to dream.” She leaned her head against him. “I'm sorry it's been such a bad week. This is a time to enjoy yourself, not be tied up in knots."

  He moved his arm and slipped it around her shoulders. “You're right. But a body and a break-in are like a crime wave in White Tail. And we just have nowhere to turn on them."

  "Maybe we can manage a little recreational diversion to help you relax.” She grinned in the darkness.

  Morgan put his fingers under her chin to tilt her face up. “You have no idea what kind of diversion I have in mind."

  His mouth came down on hers, his tongue pressed against the seam of her lips, and she opened for him, welcoming his thrusting tongue. He kissed every inch of her mouth, inside and out, nibbling her lips, sucking on them, then sweeping his tongue over them. Every nerve inside her mouth fired as he touched it with the tip of his tongue, and she let her own tongue meet his, greedy with desire. He tasted of a heady mixture of coffee and ice cream and Lone Star beer, and she was drowning in it.

  One hand slid easily from her waist up to her breast, his warm palm cupping it, his thumb teasing the nipple until its hard point pushed against the fabric of her blouse. She leaned into him, groaning softly, wanting to feel his fingers on her bare skin.

  When he lifted his head, they were both breathing more than a little hard. Allison could feel her heart thumping against her ribs.

  "If we were alone,” he said, his voice thick with desire, “and not out here where someone could walk up any minute, I'd strip off every stitch of your clothes, lay you down and bury myself so deep in you."

  "And I'd help you.” She released a shaky breath.

  He shifted so she was pressed full length against him, the hard ridge of his erection straining the fabric of his jeans, pressing itself against her soft flesh.

  "See what you do to me? I'm like a bull in heat, Allison. I want more than just a petting session in the truck or stolen kisses in the yard. It's dangerous for me even to touch you, I want you so badly."

  "Me, too,” she whispered, her voice unsteady.

  "If I thought we could get away with it, we could slip off to my place for a few hours. But that's not on the agenda right now."

  "Not until the wedding's over,” she agreed.

  "Yes, the wedding."

  The tone of bitterness in his voice stabbed at her. What did that say about where they could take their relationship? Could she expect anything from him besides sex? Last Saturday night she thought they'd started something good. Was she mistaken?

  Morgan's lips brushed her forehead. “Tomorrow night the wedding will be over. Ryan and Paige will be gone and our obligations discharged."

  "This is true.” The feathery touch of his lips was sending shivers racing along her spine.

  "Allison?"

  "Mmmm?"

  "Will you come stay with me tomorrow night?"

  She felt her heart kick and a flutter of butterflies in her stomach. If this is my one chance, I'm taking it. Her body clenched with anticipation. “Yes, I will. I want to."

  "You won't feel weird with Paige's parents here?"

  His fingers were tracing a line up and down her arm. She pressed closer to him. “I'll work it out."

  "All right, then."

  He took her mouth once again, a little more eager, a little more greedy. And she gave back the signs of her own need.

  * * * *

  The wedding was everything a wedding could be. The bride glowed and the groom had eyes only for his new wife. A warm Texas sun painted the yard with golden strokes and the breeze was just enough to cool the air. More than two hundred people toasted the newlyweds with good wishes only slightly on the raunchy side.

  "You are blessed,” Allison told Paige, hugging her as she and Ryan got ready to leave.

  "I wish the same for you, kiddo."

  Allison shrugged. “Maybe it's just not in the cards for all of us."

  "We'll see. Listen, stay here as long as you want. Mom and Dad are going back to the city in the morning. Maybe you can beg a couple of days off and just hang out. You'd have the place to yourself."

  "I'll think about it. Anyway, go. Your husband's waiting with an eager look in his eyes."

  By five o'clock almost everyone had left, the last of the champagne had been drunk, and every crumb of hors d'oevres eaten. Allison sat at one of the round tables for eight, picking at the frosting on a slice of wedding cake, watching the extra staff the D&D had hired begin the cleaning up process.

  Morgan folded himself into the chair next to her, his hand stroking her arm with that motion that made her knees turn to mush. “Think we can sneak out of here without too much notice?"

  "Just let me change. I've already got my overnight bag packed. I can get the rest of my stuff tomorrow."

  His fingers continued their sweeping motion. “What about the Cavanaughs? Won't they be suspicious?"

  Allison shook her head. “I don't have to make excuses to them. They've known me for years. If they think I'm doing something to be happy, they'll be all for it."

  He leaned forward. “And are you? Happy, that is?"

  She caught her breath. “I think so."

  "Let's get out of here."

  She changed quickly into jeans and a tee shirt, and managed to get out without running into anyone.

  "The Cavanaughs were in their room and the Howells were supervising the cleanup,” she told Morgan, climbing into the truck. “I left a note on the kitchen counter."

  He leaned over and gave her a quick kiss. “Good. We're out of here, then."

  * * * *

  "I love your house.” Allison stood in the middle of the living room, admiring the high ceiling, the cream-colored walls decorated with Texas art, and the comfortable furniture in oak and tweed. The hardwood floors shone with a high gloss softened by the multicolored rug in the center. A wide archway opened into the dining room, and beyond that, the kitchen.

  They'd had a few moments of excitement when Cochise had gone into his protective mode, barking
and growling at Allison. But Morgan had petted him, put his arm around Allison to show she was a friend, and let the dog sniff her. Satisfied, he'd gone back to playing with his ball in the yard.

  Then Morgan unlocked the back door and ushered her inside.

  He sailed his hat onto an antique hat rack, shucked off his jacket and loosened his tie. “This was all furniture my mother had. Ryan already had his place so he moved her in with him until she passed away a couple of years later. She and my dad had picked out all this stuff just before he died, so I decided we needed to keep it in the family."

  "That was a wonderful thing to do.” She smoothed her hand over the back of an arm chair.

  "It helps that I liked everything. Anyway, I had the house but almost no furniture, so it worked out very well.” He began unbuttoning his shirt. “I don't know about you, but I could sure use a nice long shower."

  The idea of showering with Morgan made her mouth go suddenly dry and she wet her lips with the tip of her tongue. She felt the familiar throb starting in her womb and pulsing through her. God, if she didn't get him inside her quick she was sure she'd go up in smoke.

  She had to swallow twice before she could speak. “T-That sounds like a great idea."

  "Come on, then.” He smiled as he took her hand. “Wait until you see my shower."

  His bedroom was large enough to accommodate a fireplace and a sitting area. Allison could hardly take her eyes off the enormous bed that was the centerpiece of the room.

  Morgan chuckled when he saw her look at it. “I had it specially made. I'm a big man and I like a lot of room in bed."

  Her mouth formed a round O.

  "Come see my shower. I did it after Amber...” He stopped. “I did it when I needed a physical project to work off stress."

  Allison caught her breath when she saw it. The shower was three times as big as any she'd ever seen. Rather than using tiles, Morgan had constructed the walls of various kinds of rock, embedding the shower heads in them. When Morgan turned on the faucets, the water cascaded out like a waterfall.

  "It's beautiful. Oh my God, Morgan, this is incredible.” She raised an eyebrow. “And very decadent."

  "Did you think I couldn't do decadent?” His voice was like warm honey.

  "I don't know,” she teased. “Can you?"

  "Why don't we find out?"

  His hands shaking, he lifted her tee shirt and slipped it over her head, his eyes heating when he caught sight of her breasts and the lacy bra that barely covered them. He bent his head and licked the swell of each one, darting his tongue below the edge of lace, his mouth then closing over one of her nipples. Through the fabric he drew it into his mouth, biting it gently.

  Allison felt as if liquid were pouring out of her, soaking the crotch of her panties, and all he'd done was tease her nipple. She moved her hands up between them and fumbled with the buttons on his shirt, clumsy in her attempt to pull it free from his trousers and pulling it down his arms. He yanked his hands free and tossed the garment into a corner, then moved his hands around in front of her to the open the clasp of Allison's bra. In seconds it, too, was discarded. She reached for his belt buckle but he grabbed her hands, stilling them.

  "Not yet."

  The rasp of her zipper sliding open was suddenly the most erotic sound Allison could remember hearing, her legs went so weak she had to hold onto Morgan or she'd fall. She closed her eyes and felt him slip the denim fabric down her legs, his knuckles brushing the insides of her thighs. When she stepped out of her jeans, she was clad only in the tiny bit of lace that passed for bikini panties.

  Very slowly he rolled them down her legs, lifting first one foot and then the other to step out of them. She was naked, and suddenly as nervous as a virgin. When he didn't touch her again, she opened her eyes to see his gaze raking over her body.

  "Beautiful.” Passion deepened his voice. “Just beautiful."

  She shivered at the intense heat in his eyes as they took in every inch of her naked skin. With his glittering eyes still pinning her in place, he toed off his boots and yanked his socks from his feet. His gaze never left her as he slipped off his pants and his boxers in one movement.

  He was unbelievable, lean and fit, his chest covered with curls of dark hair that arrowed down to his groin. Every inch of him was hard muscle from his broad shoulders to his sculptured thighs. And jutting toward her, in splendid glory, the most magnificent erection she'd ever seen. Her eyes widened and she wet her lips with the tip of her tongue, mesmerized by the sight.

  Sweet Jesus!

  "Don't worry,” he chuckled. “You'll be more than ready for me when we get to that part.” He put his hands on her waist. “I get to look, too, darlin'.” He lifted her to the long vanity counter, then bent her legs at the knees, planting her feet wide apart, leaving her totally open to him.

  "A woman who maintains,” he said in an unsteady voice, as his gentle fingers teased the neatly trimmed curls on her mound. He separated her lips with his thumbs, eyes fastened on the exposed flesh. He ran one finger lightly down the length of her cleft, touching every inch of her. Then he picked her up and stepped into the shower, setting her down so she leaned against one wall of rock.

  When he pressed his body against hers, she could feel every hard inch of him, especially the steel length of his erection against the softness of her belly. The pulse in her sheath began to throb double-time. The curls of hair on his chest created an exciting friction against the sensitive skin of her breasts, sizzling her nerve endings. Taking her wrists in his hands, he raised her arms over her head, pressed her against the rock and took her mouth.

  That was the only way to describe it. Possession. He licked at the edges, teased at the seam, sucked her lower lip into his mouth and ran his tongue over it. Nibbled at her upper lip. When she opened her mouth on a sigh, his marauding tongue plunged inside and swept the hot recess. Allison danced her tongue with his, loving the taste of him, the feel of him inside her mouth as he licked every inch of the hot cavern.

  She was still lost in the fog of the kiss when she felt his hands leave her wrists and in the next moment, slick and slippery, they were at her shoulders, her arms, her breasts.

  "Gotta have soap when you take a shower,” he said, his mouth at her ear.

  The tip of his tongue traced patterns in the shell of her ear as his soap-slicked hands massaged her breasts, cupping their weight, sliding over the slope and swell to reach her nipples. He pinched them lightly with thumb and forefinger, rolling their peaked hardness and tugging on them; she felt the sensations all the way to her womb. The muscles in her inner sheath were vibrating with need, the pulse increasing in intensity. She didn't know how long either of them could stand this teasing and playing.

  Foreplay later, she wanted to scream.

  When his hands drifted lower over her abdomen to the crease at the top of her thighs, she almost wept with gratitude. But then he turned her body, his hands massaging her shoulders, working their way down the line of her back. He was so close to her she could feel his erection against the cheeks of her bottom and she tried to push herself against it.

  "Not yet, darlin'. You're not nearly ready."

  I am, I am. Hurry, hurry, hurry.

  But despite his own all too obvious need, he seemed determined to take his time, tracing every inch of her from neck to waist with a gentle motion that sent sparks flying through her body. He seduced her with his mouth, sending waves of pleasure crashing over her. When his fingers slipped into the crevice of her buttocks she sucked in her breath, feeling him probe the sensitive area, rubbing soap into every inch. The lightness of his touch was driving her crazy, a ghost touch that made her body demand more.

  Then she was facing him again, the warm water pounding down on both of them as he widened her stance with his foot. He moved his hand through her curls, soaping them, combing them with his fingers. And finally, at last, two fingers moved into her cleft, trapping her hot nub between them, the friction as he soaped the ski
n nearly bringing her to her knees. With his legs planted inside hers to give him total access, he eased two long, hard fingers into her sheath, massaging the tender skin so slowly Allison nearly lost it.

  "Please,” she begged. “Oh, God, Morgan. Please."

  "Ssh,” he crooned, doing that wonderful tickling in her ear again. “Jesus, Allie, you feel so good. I'd like to leave my fingers in here forever.” He turned his hand and curled the tips of his fingers upward, reaching the spot he knew would take her to the edge.

  She couldn't stand it. The pressure on her nipples as he tugged on them, the thickness of his fingers in her throbbing channel, his thumb rubbing back and forth across the tip of her sex were all winding the coil inside her tighter and tighter. If Morgan hadn't been holding her she would have fallen to the stone floor.

  She began to rock back and forth against his hand, little mewling sounds escaping her lips. The more she rocked, the greater the friction, the tighter the coil wound. She felt it start deep inside her, radiating out from her womb, until every part of her was humming, pounding, straining to reach that elusive precipice that would give her relief. Not matter how she pushed or how she pleaded, Morgan kept the pace slow and steady. When she tried to pull his hand tighter against her, he captured her wrists with his other hand and pinned them over her head. And all the time he was crooning softly in her ear, telling her in intimate detail all the things he wanted to do to her, setting fire to her blood.

  Everything receded except the warm water pounding down on them, like soft rain falling on her face, and Morgan's wickedly clever fingers driving her to a kind of insanity. Up, up, up the spiral he took her, never varying the movement of his hand, retreating any time she pushed too hard against him. Her brain had shut down and she could only feel the myriad sensations building in her body, pulling at her like a whirlpool. She was pleading and sobbing, promising anything if he would just let her find release.

  "I think you're ready now, darlin'.” His deep voice resonated in her ear.

  "Yes. Yes. Ready.” She could hardly get the words out.

  "All right, then."

  He intensified his movements, his hand moving faster, stroking deeper, until with a shudder that wracked her body, she came, her liquid flowing into his hand. He covered her mouth with his own, swallowing her screams, his fingers pushing her over the edge and beyond. Her entire body shook with the intensity of the orgasm, the walls of her vault grasping at the fingers inside them, every muscle tight with the spasms.