by Vivian Arend
Table of Contents
Title Page
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Epilogue
Note from the Author
The Six Pack Ranch Series
Baby Be Mine: Excerpt
About Vivian Arend
Other Books by Vivian Arend
Copyright
Chapter One
September, Rocky Mountain House
HEAT ROLLED along her spine, leaving a sticky residue behind like at the conclusion of a long shift on an endless summer day. Only it wasn’t hard labour that had brought the undeniable flush to her skin. It wasn’t the sweltering breeze blowing past, causing leaves on the nearby trees to tremble, or the scalding sun beating down on her dash.
It was sex. Or more accurately, the anticipation of sex.
A straight-up, body-pounding, muscle-clenching fuck about to be delivered with all too much finesse by her favourite speeder in the entire district.
Right now she wasn’t in the RCMP cruiser, and she certainly wasn’t on any major highway in the Rocky Mountain House area. Anna Coleman sat in her personal vehicle at the side of a lonely country gravel road as anticipation rapidly rolled toward consummation.
Thank God.
Her side-view mirror gave her a flawless view of Mitch Thompson. He uncurled himself from his Harley, removed his helmet and left it behind on the handlebars. Her heart rate kicked up as he sauntered closer, dragging a hand through his dark hair before pulling off his sunglasses and hanging them from his front pocket. Black leathers gripped his thighs, sunlight flicking off the fabric as he strode forward. The tight black T-shirt only emphasized the width of his chest and biceps, the dark lines of his tattoos curling over his forearms to where they ended in ragged flames on his wrists and the back of his hands.
Hmmm, his hands…
His usual cocky grin was absent, instead his expression one of total dignity and control, one step away from a glare. From this distance, she couldn’t see the golden specks in his dark brown eyes, but they were there, the knowledge of how they flashed brighter during moments of intense pleasure intimately embedded in her memory. His hair was too short to be more than rumpled from the time under his helmet, the dark brown strands matching the shadow of facial hair darkening his square jawline.
Nice. Today Mitch was one hundred percent hoodlum playing one hundred percent dangerous authority, and the combination caused one hundred and ten wicked reactions. She squeezed her knees together, but the pressure did nothing to ease the localized ache between her thighs.
He rapped his knuckles on her window.
Anna moved slowly, as if she hadn’t been panting for this moment. She rolled down her window but stared straight ahead, refusing to make eye contact.
“I need to see some identification,” he drawled.
“What seems to be the problem?” she tossed back, one side of her mouth twitching upward briefly before she got her amusement under control.
“You have no idea what you’ve done?” Mitch leaned in, elbows resting on the doorframe and inhaled deeply. “You got an explanation for the smell in here?”
She jerked to face him. That question wasn’t in their usual repartee. “Smell?”
His panty-melting grin exploded. “Hmm. Like sweet, hungry pussy.”
Holy moly. Anna squirmed. “You’re mistaken. I’m not transporting any animals.”
“Get out of the vehicle. Now.” He jerked her door open.
Anna was in no hurry. Drawing out the tease, taunting him for a moment or two could only heighten the experience for them both. Make what was sure to follow that much more explosive.
Pleasure licked around her as she obediently stood beside her car, his gaze skimming over the curve of her breasts. Lower, over her hips, lingering on the length of legs left exposed by her short miniskirt. She’d strapped on high heels, not much more than bits of buttery soft leather wrapped around five-inch spikes, and he swore lightly at the sight of them, fiery red against the dull grey gravel.
Screw it if the stilettos were impractical. This was her fantasy, and for the next half hour she’d damn well wear what she wanted.
A growl escaped Mitch as she pushed him to the edge of control. He squatted, one finger tracing the line of leather around her ankle and up the back of her calf to tease the sensitive skin behind her knee. “You have a license for those weapons?”
“Maybe. Maybe not.”
The passion in his eyes burned as he glanced upward. “Hands against the car.”
Anna glanced around cautiously as she twisted to obey. Double-checking there were no farmers using the remote shortcut to move bailers or haul hay from field to shed. Nothing to break the mood. No observers.
Although in theory the idea of being watched wasn’t unwelcome, getting caught playing kinky sex games in public with Mitch Thompson would not be a good thing.
He stepped behind her, heat increasing as the space between them narrowed. He patted her down, efficiently, quickly, but even the brief contact was enough to drive a moan from her lips.
“You like that, do you?” he growled. “Bet you’re hiding things from me.”
“Maybe,” she repeated, closing the distance to make contact between their hips. Her ass bumped his groin, and his hard-on digging into her butt just made things that much hotter. “You’d better check. Thoroughly.”
“Strip search.” His hands slipped over her hips, one dropping to cup her sex, the other up past her breasts to rest lightly over her throat. His lips hovered only inches from her ear, close enough the scruff on his chin and cheeks scratched her skin. “You get me so damn hot I’m ready to rip your clothes off and fuck you right here,” he confessed.
Anna rubbed them together again, all too pleased at the tormented sound she dragged from him. “No need to rip anything,” she panted.
Mitch bunched her skirt under his fingers, cursing loudly as he met nothing but bare skin. Totally bare.
“Sweet fuck, you shaved.”
“Waxed. Oh God, don’t stop.”
He’d slipped his fingers over her pussy, delving between her labia to get his fingers wet before circling her clit. “Bare pussy. Wet bare pussy. Jesus fuck, woman. You think I can just stick my cock in you, and be done?”
“Good by me,” she insisted. No need to stop for condoms either—thank God for clean health records and efficient birth control. A gasp escaped as he pushed a finger deep inside. “Mitch, just do me already.”
He twirled her, his eyes blazing with lust as he pushed her shoulders against the car. “No.”
He took her lips before she could protest, kissing her like he did damn near everything. High speed, high intensity, igniting high-octane flames that lit her inside and out. His tongue licked into her mouth, his fingers cleverly undoing the elastic that had held her hair in a neat ponytail. She wrapped her arms around his neck in the hopes of keeping him close. It was no use, though, as he pulled away far too soon and put his teeth to her neck, a hand slipping between them to resume tormenting her clit with a steady rhythm.
“Don’t taunt me,” Anna begged. “I was ready for sex five minutes after you called me this morning.”
“Hmm. You’ve been hot and aching all day?”
Another round of skillfully applied pressure slid over her clit, and her hips jerked involuntarily. “Aching so hard.”
“Did you play with yourself?” he as
ked, easing off slightly, his thumb pulsing in a faint unending beat. “Did you have to hide somewhere so you could slip your fingers into your panties? Did you think about me shoving my cock deep inside you again and again until you scream?”
“Yes,” she hissed.
Mitch pulled back, and she whimpered in protest. She reached for him, but he shook his head, that evil grin back in place as he eased away far enough he could leer at her. “Show me,” he demanded.
There was no ignoring the command, and hell if she wanted to. At this point, if he wasn’t going to deal with her…
He dropped to his knees so as she slid her fingers down to touch herself, his head was only inches away. She stroked lightly to stop from bursting into flames in under three seconds.
“Give me your hand,” Mitch ordered.
She held it out, and he caught her wrist, licking her fingers one at a time. The rough contrast of his tongue over the pads of her fingers teased her senses. He moved her hand, and she shook, leaning harder on the car to stop from melting to the ground as he used her own wet fingers to play with her clit. Slipping between her folds and stroking her to a feverish pitch.
“Mitch, please.” Begging came all too easy at this point. “Give me your cock.”
“Come first. Come on my tongue.” He put his lips to her pussy, driving his tongue deep, fucking her with it as he worked her fingers over her clit again and again.
A long, low cry flowed from her lips, trembling in the air like the nearby leaves as the first wave of her orgasm hit her. Hips bucking forward, aching for something to hold, her pussy contracted and she called out his name.
He was on his feet, zipper down, cock in hand. She stared through sex-hazed eyes at the momentary glint as the ball bearings adorning his cock head shone in the sunlight. He hitched her thigh over his hip, her skirt bunched around her waist.
“Hold on, this is going to be a wild ride,” Mitch promised.
He put the head of his cock to her pussy and thrust upward. One motion, another. It took three drives for him to work all the way in, her climax still rippling around him.
Then the fucking began in earnest.
Mitch leaned over her, holding under her thigh to keep her wide open, his other hand under her ass, protecting her as he pounded in deep. Hard.
Incredibly intense and vivid, and like always, Anna came alive. This was what she craved—this bright place of indulgence and passion. Every nerve on high alert, every motion a spark leading to the next level of pleasure.
“God, so tight around my cock. You’re squeezing me like a vise. You like fucking out here, don’t you? My cock drilling you in two.”
“Oh, yes.”
Mitch growled again and thrust harder. “Dirty girl. Bare-ass-naked under your skirt. Sun shining down on us—hell, anyone could drive up right now, couldn’t they?”
Anna shuddered.
“Hmm, yeah. They’d see you, legs open wide, pussy wet for my cock.” Mitch caught her by the chin and kissed her like a mad man as he fucked hard for another dozen strokes.
Sensory overload was setting in. It wasn’t just his cock. Or his touch, or his teeth digging into her neck. It was the words and the place and the…
“Oh God, oh…”
His piercing got her again, a cascade breaking from deep within where he’d been stroking her unmercifully with the damn thing. She had no chance of stopping a second climax from ripping free, especially with a thick, satisfying length of cock to squeeze around this time.
“Fuck yes, come on my cock, babe. That’s it. Fuck me hard,” Mitch ordered.
He shoved his hand between them and caught her clit. Anna screamed, all restraint vanishing as she came, liquid shooting from her pussy to coat his hand, his legs. Pressure escaped in spurts, her spine melted, and pleasure turned her limbs molten.
Numbing pleasure, incredibly intense. “Oh my God, oh my God.”
She’d breathe later, she decided. Right now there was too much happening between her legs to bother with incidentals like air to her lungs and blood to her brain.
“Jesus fuck, yeah. Damn.” Mitch buried himself deep and came, his body crushing her to the car as his hips pulsed helplessly, face contorted with extreme pleasure. Anna watched as long as she could, but white spots hung before her eyes and it was so much simpler to close them and let Mitch support her.
A breeze surrounded them, cooling air pushed over heated limbs. Her heart rate slowed enough that the buzz of tiny insects in the trees and the distant motors of farm equipment became audible again. Mitch held her in place, both feet off the ground with her bare ass pressed against the car window, and in the middle of the languid sensation controlling her body, the image struck her as hilariously funny.
Mitch breathed slowly before finding his voice. “What’s making you laugh?”
Her world was still spinning. “I think I just left an ass print on my window.”
MITCH PULLED his brain back from the faraway place sex had sent it and let an evil chuckle free at her wry comment. “Good thing this isn’t your cruiser. I’d like to see you explain questionable prints to Nick.”
“Oh man, that would not go over well.” Anna ran her fingers through Mitch’s hair, pushing the short length upright over his forehead. “My partner would make me fill out cleaning and sterilization forms in triplicate.”
Mitch leaned in to kiss her tenderly while she remained in the soft and lazy post-sex mood. She wouldn’t allow him to pet her for long, so he took every chance he could to savour the bits of time he did get.
Anna sighed happily as he nuzzled her neck. His cock was still in her pussy—he’d be happy to stay there for the rest of the day, but if this was like any previous time, in a couple of minutes Anna would start the process of withdrawing from him. Withdrawing from who she was when she was with him.
He’d bite his tongue like usual and let her. This time. But the day was coming when he wasn’t going to let it slide. A day really soon.
“You’re a dangerous man, Mitch Thompson,” Anna muttered. “It’s a good thing I have a change of clothes in the trunk. Sorry about your leathers.”
“As if I’m going to complain I made you come so hard you got me wet.” He couldn’t hide the gloating in his voice.
“It’s your piercing. Hits me just right, and you know it.” Anna wriggled, and he reluctantly lowered her thigh, slowly separating them. A rush of semen and lingering moisture from her explosive orgasm ran down her leg. “God, I need not only a change of clothes, but a shower.”
Mitch grinned harder, pushing her against the car before she could run away and clean up the signs of their wild debauchery. He pinned her in place, his hands pushing her wrists to the roof as he slid one leg between her thighs and held her bare ass to the car door. Her dark brown hair was a mess tumbled about her shoulders, her pupils still full and dark against her pale blue irises. The flush on her cheeks from the wild sex, not some maidenly blush. “I like you dirty,” he admitted.
Her eyes flashed brightly for a second before she pulled on her cop uniform. Not the navy slacks and powder-blue shirt, but the mental shield she wore. As real as a tangible piece of fabric, Anna transformed before his eyes from his sexy, uninhibited lover to the woman who wrote up tickets and toed the line.
All the lines. All the time.
“I need to go, Mitch. My parents are having the family over for dinner, and since I’m not on duty, I’m heading over early.”
Mitch paused before doing the only thing he could—he let her free.
He put his cock back in his pants, adjusting carefully before zipping. Anna moved to her trunk, intensely focused on anything but him, it seemed. She used a bunch of wet wipes to clean up. Pulled on a pair of plain, serviceable panties and covered them with faded jeans. Her footwear was switched for practical runners.
She scooped up her fuck-me high heels by the leather straps and let them dangle in the air, staring at them with a tortured expression.
Did sh
e know how easily he read her at these moments?
“Anytime you want to wear those shoes, I’m down with it,” he teased softly.
She jerked upright, shaking her head briskly. “It’s a good thing I don’t really have anywhere to go while wearing them. Doubt I could walk more than three feet without falling on my ass.”
She shoved them into a grey duffle bag, along with the miniskirt. Hiding away all signs of who she was. What she liked. A wave of frustration rolled through him, and Mitch opened his mouth…
And just as quickly closed it again.
Not the time. Not the place, but soon.
Damn soon if he had his way.
She finally made eye contact as she opened her car door. Quiet, impersonal, with a faint smile like you’d give to an acquaintance you spotted at the supermarket. “Talk to you later?”
“No problem. You know where to find me.” He eased back, arms crossed over his chest as she got in and drove away.
Drove away, and took his fucking heart with her.
In one way it was hilarious. Mitch Thompson had fallen hopelessly in love with the worst possible woman in town—one fighting tooth and nail against letting her real nature free.
He stared after her polite, serviceable car as she headed home to her traditional family dinner. She’d peel the potatoes and set the table, and afterward, she’d help her mother wash the dishes while her brothers and father talked about the ranch chores and fields and crops.
The contrast between what she’d be doing in an hour and what they’d just done haunted Mitch. Not the actual sex, but her attitude. There was nothing wrong with an old-fashioned family gathering, but the Anna he’d been savouring wasn’t someone she showed to anyone else.
For the past two months, since Anna had given in to the heat between them, they’d been meeting on the sly. Playing games and finding pleasure in trying every sexual thing she suggested. Mitch had reached the point where sex was no longer enough.
That fire he’d witnessed all too often in her eyes? Her evil sense of humour and dirty imagination? He longed to have those things turned on him all the time, not only during clandestine moments. He wanted to stop seeing her shove her real needs into a damn duffle bag as she hid her sexy self away. His frustrations boiled as he stared after her.
