Cutter's Law

by Judith Rochelle

  At last, when she thought she would surely break apart, the tiny aftershocks slowed and disappeared. Morgan lifted his mouth and her head fell forward onto his shoulder. Her lungs strained for air as the waterfall continued to cascade over her. Morgan held her tightly against him, pressing tiny kisses to her forehead and cheeks, his hand soothing her as he caressed her back.

  She opened her eyes and looked at him. “I feel as if I was struck by lightening."

  He gave her his slow smile, his eyes hot and greedy. “Oh, darlin', we've only just started."

  He rinsed them both off, turned off the waterfall and reached for the big, thick bath towels on the nearby shelf. When he had her dried and wrapped in the warm terrycloth, he carried her into the bedroom, stripped back the covers and laid her down on the bed. In seconds he'd divested them both of towels and he was lying nude beside her.

  As wrung out as she was from the orgasm, she still felt an unsatisfied need coiling deep inside her, spreading outward like blazing tentacles. She felt Morgan's throbbing erection rubbing against her thigh and her body responded to the invitation.

  His turn this time.

  She rose up on her knees and reached for him, but Morgan placed his hand over hers. “You need to rest."

  She looked at him and grinned. “I can sleep when I'm by myself."

  She stared at the thick shaft in her hand, studying its engorged head, the throbbing veins. A tiny pearl of moisture beaded at the tip and she bent and licked it with the tip of her tongue. Then she opened her mouth and slid the length of him into the heated recess, lightly grazing it with her teeth as she took him inch by inch.

  "Jesus.” Morgan fisted his hands in her hair. “Careful. When I come, I want to be inside you."

  She took her time with him, as he had with her, licking and kissing him, cupping his sac in her hand and tickling the surface with the tips of her fingers. The more she stimulated him, the more she felt her own need growing again. When she wrapped her tongue around his length he nearly jackknifed off the bed.

  "Now,” he told her, and flipped her onto her back.

  He spread her thighs and looked at her again as if he'd never get his fill, opening her nether lips still swollen from his manipulation. He leaned down and licked the length of her cleft, and gently bit her now-sensitive clit. She screamed and tried to buck against him.

  When he slid his hot erection inside her, she wrapped her legs around him and locked them together at the base of his spine. He filled her completely, the walls of her sheath gripping him and flexing against him, and he paused to let her adjust to him.

  "Look at me, Allie,” he commanded.

  She opened her eyes to see his taut face, his forehead covered with a thin sheen of perspiration. His ocean blue eyes were dark navy, filled with desire and something else. Turbulence. All those conflicting emotions she knew he kept locked away inside him. Then he moved, and she couldn't think any more.

  He moved within her, long, gliding strokes in and out, each one more powerful than the last, the friction he created stoking the fire inside her. She matched his motion with her own, thrusting with him, arching up to him, trying to bury him as deep inside her as he could get.

  He moved faster, hips pistoning, driving his body into hers, filling the room with the sound of skin against skin, raspy breathing and uncontained moans of indescribable pleasure.

  "I can't wait much longer, darlin'."

  "Don't wait. Please, Morgan."

  He moved one hand between them and took her clit into his fingers, brushing the swollen nub. One more thrust and a firestorm swept over them, Allison screaming his name as she came and came and came. Morgan's big body shuddered convulsively, his groans filled the room.

  After what seemed like forever, Morgan rolled to the side, taking her with him, the two of them still joined. He threw one long, muscular leg over hers and wrapped his arms around her.

  "Allie, Allie, Allie.” His voice was ragged. “You're shaking up my life."

  Was that good or bad? She didn't know what to say, so she settled for running her fingers through the curled hair on his chest, feeling the warm muscles beneath. He sifted his fingers through her hair and kissed her forehead and her cheeks, and before long she felt the length of him hardening and filling her again. And once more they began their slow dance.

  Chapter Ten

  They were sitting in Morgan's kitchen at the butcher block table. They'd made love twice more during the night. Then, when they awoke, spooned together, it had been so natural for him to slip inside her and begin a gentle rocking motion that soon had them both straining for release. When she climaxed around him, flooding him with her liquid, her entire body rippled with spasms as wave after wave of sensation rolled over her.

  When Allison came out of the shower—she wanted to take the waterfall home with her—a mug of hot coffee had been waiting on the dresser. Then he surprised her with a breakfast of fresh orange juice, French toast and bacon, and more coffee.

  "If you feed all your guests like this, I'm surprised they ever leave.” She sipped at the chilled juice.

  He was silent for a long moment. “I don't have guests."

  She didn't know what to say about that, so she concentrated on her food. They ate silently, neither of them quite sure what to say. In the light of day conversation seemed to be stilted, as if they weren't quite comfortable with each other.

  "I—had a good time.” She felt heat climb up her cheeks as she realized what she said.

  Morgan laughed, and the stiffness between them seemed to disappear. “I sure hope so, darlin', because I can tell you I did."

  They finished eating in silence no longer uncomfortable, and when they finished, Allison insisted on cleaning up.

  "You cooked. It's only fair."

  Morgan sat at the table finishing his coffee, watching her as she worked. She felt his eyes on her as if they were tattooed to her skin.

  She closed the dishwasher and turned to him. “Am I doing something wrong?"

  He frowned. “No. Why do you ask?"

  "You've been staring at me as if I'm in the circus sideshow."

  He swallowed the last of his coffee. “I'm just surprised to see you know your way around a kitchen."

  Allison swallowed every remark that threatened to burst from her lips. I'm not Amber, she wanted to scream. I'm not June Cleaver, either, but I know my way around the kitchen and I'm not afraid of a little housework. She forced herself to smile. “Someone has to do it on the maid's day off."

  He scowled. “I didn't mean..."

  "It's okay. I have a thick skin.” But she wasn't so sure that was the truth. “Anyway, I think you'd better take me back to the ranch so I can collect my things and be on my way."

  In an instant he was up from his chair and beside her, his big, warm hands on her shoulders. The thin fabric of her tee shirt wasn't enough to shield her from the instant sparks that his touch generated.

  "Allison, I...” He cleared his throat and started again. “I'm not much good with words. I guess you've figured that out."

  She stared up at him. “I don't expect you to say anything. We're good."

  "I—uh—was thinking I might try to come up and see you in San Antonio."

  Her breath caught in her throat and her heart clattered in her chest. Come to San Antonio? A city? A place he'd run home to White Tail from?

  He stiffened. “Unless of course you'd rather I didn't."

  She found her voice. “Oh, no. I ... That would be wonderful. Please. Um, when would you come?"

  "I'm not sure. A lot depends on what happens with this stuff going on around here. Can I call you during the week?"

  "Yes. Please.” Please call me. Whenever you want.

  "Well. Okay, then."

  They were in the front hall, at the foot of the stairs. She turned to smile at him, he lifted his hand to cup her cheek, and bent to touch his lips to hers. His kiss was seductive. He teased at the corners of her mouth, nibbled first her u
pper then her lower lip, then gently tugging each one into his mouth and licking them with the tip of his tongue. When she opened to him, his tongue slipped inside with newly accustomed familiarity, seeking every corner and crevice of the wet darkness, then retreating before thrusting again.

  Allison felt her heart rate kick up and her legs turn to jelly. Just his kiss could ignite the flame still simmering low in her belly and send flashes of electricity running through her body. She grabbed his wrists and hung on for dear life.

  Morgan lifted his mouth and touched his forehead to hers. “If we don't stop now, darlin', we won't stop at all."

  She was drowning in his eyes. “And this is bad because?"

  "I can't seem to think of a reason. Can you?"

  She shook her head, his mouth came down on hers again, and this time there was nothing the least bit gentle about the kiss. Fire raged over them, instantaneous and wild. There wasn't even an attempt to head for the bedroom.

  "Jesus, Allison.” His voice was guttural. “You make me lose all control."

  He backed her up against the wall, and she reached for his belt buckle and the snap of his jeans. He pushed up her tee shirt and flicked open the front clasp of her bra. So hot she thought she had a fever, she didn't even feel the roughness of the stucco wall against her skin. All she could feel were Morgan's hands palming her breasts, his fingers tugging at her nipples, his tongue like a marauder in her mouth.

  She matched him heat for heat. Yanking down his zipper, she shoved his jeans and boxers down and closed her hand around him. He was already hard and throbbing, the tiny bead of moisture wetting the tip of the head. Somehow he had her jeans and panties off, lifting her with his hands under her bottom. Already so wet and wanting she couldn't wait to feel the hot thickness of him inside her, she wrapped her legs around his waist.

  Balancing her against the wall, he reached down and spread her folds wide, nudging her slickness with the tip of his erection. And just like that he was inside her, filling every inch of her. The muscles of her sheath clenched around him, gripping him, and she tore her mouth away from his.

  "Oh, God.” Every nerve in her body felt as if a flame was dancing on it. “Hurry, hurry, hurry.” She dug her nails into his shoulders and pulled herself against him.

  "Oh, yes, darlin'.” A groan rumbled up from his chest.

  Tightening his hold on her, he began driving into her. No long, slow strokes this time. This was raw passion, nothing held back, and Allison felt the tension spiraling through her body. She matched him thrust for thrust, desperate to reach fulfillment, every inch of her focused on climbing that spiral, reaching the precipice.

  She could feel Morgan's climax building in his body and she sobbed with need. Then he moved his head and bit the tender spot under her ear, the place that sent shivers of delight through her body, and without warning a firestorm consumed them, sending them spiraling into a volcanic eruption that culminated with them shouting each other's names.

  When the spasms finally subsided, Morgan released his hold on her and her legs slid down the length of his body. She clung to him, still unable to speak or catch her breath. He fastened his jeans, then brushed his fingers over her still-heated cheeks.

  "I'm sorry,” he whispered, as he feathered kisses over her face. “But I touch you and I lose my head. This was ... I don't know what to say."

  She closed her eyes and leaned into him, still struggling for her breath. “I didn't hear me complaining, did you?"

  "Allison, I don't usually do this. I want you to know that."

  She managed a weak grin. “Make love in your front hall?"

  He tilted her face up and caressed her lips with his mouth. “Take a woman I respect up against the wall like I was a rutting teenager. You deserve better than that."

  "I'd rather consider it a compliment that you can't keep your hands off me.” With one last shuddering breath, she slipped under his arms and picked up her discarded clothing. Her mouth curved in a slow smile. “I'll just be a minute. Then we can head for the ranch."

  * * * *

  Morgan watched Allison head up the driveway from the ranch house and turn left onto the highway. He still hadn't recovered from the explosion of passion in his front hall. He didn't ever remember doing that with any other woman. He'd christened a number of automobile rear seats when he was younger, and even a stall in his father's barn a time or two. But no one had ever made him lose control the way this woman did.

  And it wasn't just this morning. Last night he hadn't been able to get enough of her. If they hadn't required even a minimum of sleep, he might have set a new record for endurance. So what was it about her that hit him this way? God knows, they came from two different worlds, and she represented everything he'd come to hate. Yet, from the first time he'd seen her in Ryan's office he'd wanted her.

  And not just for sex. He had plenty of women he knew in Austin who were more than happy to provide that for him without expecting anything in return except a good time. If he was smart, he'd drop the whole thing and save himself what was sure to be a lot of anguish.

  "Planning to ride today?"

  Morgan turned. He was so lost in thought he hadn't heard John Howell come up behind him. “It would probably do me some good, but I don't think so."

  "Well, give a holler if you change your mind."

  So what did he plan to do with himself today? He was restless, unsettled, his mind constantly drifting back to last night and Allison naked in his bed, moaning under him, coming apart in his arms.

  Damn. He needed to do something to take his mind off his growing fascination with Allison Moore. Maybe he'd head to the office, see if anything had turned up on their John Doe. Or if his guys had gotten lucky and at least found some lead as to who broke into the house of White Tail's chief of police.

  But the police station was quieter than an empty church.

  "Boyd's out on patrol,” the dispatcher told him, “and he says there's not so much as a loose cow anywhere. He'll probably have to slap himself in the face to stay awake."

  "Nothing at all on our dead body?"

  She shook her head. “Isn't that strange? It's almost like he didn't even exist."

  "Well, he existed somewhere, doing something that got him killed.” He flipped through the report sheets, then slapped them back in the basket. “Well, call me if something turns up. I'll have my cell on."

  "Okay, but I sure wouldn't count on anything happening on Sunday."

  He wasn't quite ready to go home, where Allison's scent still lingered in the air. Ryan and Paige were off on their honeymoon so he couldn't bother his brother. He realized for the first time how few friends he'd bothered to reconnect with when he returned to White Tail.

  He knew the D&D was closed on Sunday, but as he drove by he saw lights on in the back. Pulling into the parking lot at the rear of the building, he unsnapped the flap on his holster and gently turned the handle of the back door. He didn't expect anyone to have the nerve to break into a town icon, and a real thief wouldn't have the lights on. But you never knew what some teenager might do on a dare.

  Suddenly the door was jerked open and Derek Young was standing in front of him, grinning.

  "Come to catch the sneak thief, Morgan?"

  Morgan flushed, then gave a sheepish grin. “At least you know I'm out protecting your property."

  "Is that Morgan out there?’ Donna called. “Bring him on in."

  "You heard the lady. Come in and pull up a chair. We're working in the kitchen."

  Donna was standing at the long work counter, checking off items on an inventory list. The crates of china and glassware from the wedding were stacked and labeled in front of her. She looked up and smiled as the men came in.

  "We don't usually see you patrolling the city on Sundays, Morgan."

  He pushed his hat to the back of his head and folded himself into an empty chair. “Well, you know how it is.” He grinned. “Gotta keep my hand in."

  "Uh huh.” She hande
d him a mug filled with coffee. “So how's Allison doing?"

  Morgan concentrated on his coffee. “She's fine."

  "Fine? Well, that covers a multitude of sins. Soooooo ... I guess you guys had a good time last night?"

  Derek threw back his head and laughed. “Donna, I don't think Morgan's too happy to have us poking our noses in his business."

  "Oh, bite me, sweetheart. Who better than us to go poking around in what he does?” She looked at Morgan. “You two were together last night, right?"

  "Doesn't seem like it would do me much good to deny it.” He took a swallow of coffee, leaned back and stretched out his legs. “Yes, we spent the evening together."

  Donna put down her clipboard and poured coffee for herself. “The evening? Ooookay. She's a great gal, Morgan. She's a lot like Paige. Our kind of people."

  "You think?” He shook his head. “I'm not so sure about that. Paige made herself right at home here from the beginning. Allison's different."

  "Oh?” Donna raised an eyebrow. “Exactly how? She looks pretty normal to me."

  "Come on, Donna.” Morgan got up and refilled his mug. “She's got a terrific job in San Antonio, has a great life. Loves everything she does. She wouldn't last a week in White Tail. Anyway, I don't know why we're talking about this. She and I have had a couple of dates and that's it. The wedding threw us together. The wedding's over."

  "Who are you trying to convince?” Derek asked. “Us or you?"

  "She's not Amber, you know,” Donna put in.

  Morgan set down his mug. “Thanks for the coffee, guys. Think I'll go rattle a few more door knobs."

  "No matter how far you run, you still can't run away from it,” Donna called after him.

  Morgan flapped a hand at them and let himself out the door. He didn't want to hear what the Youngs had to say. He'd been burned so badly he was afraid to get near the fire again.