“Want me to make the ache go away, little one?” he asked.
“Please!” seemed to be the only thing she could force past the tightness of her throat. Every muscle and nerve of her body was strung taut with tension.
“Please what, Sugar?”
He cupped her with his hot hand, rubbing it between her legs but still not giving her what she needed. “What’s your pleasure, Sugar?” he asked again, his tone warning that he wouldn’t give her what she wanted until she asked.
“Please touch me,” she begged on a gasp.
“You want I should fuck you with my fingers?”
She wasn’t a prude, but the word fuck had never been part of her vocabulary despite its common usage these days. For her, it spoke of the forbidden, of raw and primitive eroticism. Hearing it in his deep, throaty voice had her quivering and nodding her head.
That wasn’t enough to for him. “Say it,” he demanded.
She couldn’t force the same words past her throat but she squirmed against him and said, “Yes, that’s what I want.”
“My fingers deep inside of you?” he challenged. “That’s what you want?
Deidre was dying. “Yes.”
No sooner were the words said, than her wish was granted. He didn’t hesitate but worked two long, thick fingers deep inside her slippery channel. Her body arched like a bow, strung painfully tight. She groaned and rocked against him, feeling stuffed and restless. Then he pressed his thumb against her clit, working it while he watched her with unwavering concentration. The heat of his gaze was as hot as her flesh as he stroked harder and harder until she came just as hard.
Swallowing a scream, she threw her head back, stiffened her spine and legs as her toes curled and deep, swirling pleasure coursed over her. Her breasts quivered and her nipples beaded into hard points. Before she could catch her breath, he partially withdrew his fingers and then started pumping them in and out of her slick channel with renewed force. Her second climax hit as soon as he rubbed her clit again.
Deidre could hardly catch her breath but he didn’t stop the relentless plundering. He made her feel wanton and totally out of control. She needed time to regain some composure but he continued to push her from peak to peak until she whimpered and begged.
“No more,” she sobbed after the fourth orgasm. “Please, no more.”
Boudreaux immediately eased his hand from body and her shorts. Breathing harshly, she watched through half-closed eyes as he lifted it to his fingers to his mouth and licked off the moisture. A shiver ran over her body at the raw carnality of his action. No wonder women found him utterly irresistible. His penis still strained for attention but he’d seen to her pleasure first. There was nothing more seductive than an unselfish lover. She surprised herself by wanting to please him like no other woman had ever done.
“Uncuff me,” she whispered, her voice still weak from exertion.
“In due time,” he promised on a lazy drawl. He stepped closer to her again, cupped her breasts, and flicked the sensitive nipples. “First, I want to fuck your breasts.”
Their gazes met, his hot from a fire raging within. That word again. It sent her pulse skittering. Luc had never used it when they made love. Hearing it now added to the illicit thrill of their scandalous interlude. She knew he was asking her permission again and she gave him a nod.
He cupped each heavy mound and then pressed them together, creating a tight channel for his pleasure. Deidre sucked in her breath when his hard, smooth penis slid against her flesh. Boudreaux rocked his hips, moaning as he rubbed himself through her softness. She tried to sit up straighter but felt shadowed by his size and strength. The closer he got, the more the scent and the feel of him excited her. Wanting to return his unselfish loving, she stuck out her tongue and stroked it across the tip of his shaft. He stiffened and groaned but continued to rub himself through her breasts in a rhythm that grew strong and faster.
With each successive thrust, Deidre bathed him with her tongue; feeling him go more tense with each stroke. His breathing grew ragged, his body coiled with tension. Then she sucked greedily with the next thrust and he released her breasts. He leaned over her back and unfastened the handcuffs. As soon as her hands were free, she cupped his sac with one and wrapped the other around his thick penis.
Boudreaux grasped handfuls of her hair as she went down on him, eagerly taking his length and sucking him as furiously as she knew how. He pounded into her with increasing urgency and she found a way to take him deeper into her mouth without gagging.
She’d never been so uninhibited with Luc. Their oral stimulation had been restricted to a little kissing and sucking but she’d never brought him to orgasm that way. Luc had never pushed her for more but the sheriff didn’t have that kind of restraint. Within another few seconds, she felt him stiffen, his balls tightening, his penis pulsing in her mouth. She began to swallow.
She rubbed his sac as he emptied himself, then wrapped her hands around his thighs and steadied him when his legs trembled. Releasing his penis, she gasped for air and rested her head on his flat stomach. His hands clenched in her hair and they clung to each other. It took them several minutes to collect their composure, each gasping for breath and quivering in the aftermath of spent passion.
When they could breathe again, Boudreaux slowly eased himself from her grasp. He stepped back, giving them both space to readjust their clothing. Deidre kept her head down and concentrated on each button of her blouse as her unsteady fingers tried to get them refastened.
A different kind of tension mounted as the silence increased. She felt the sheriff’s watchful gaze, but couldn’t find the courage to look him in the eyes. Never having experienced anything quite so shockingly bold and sexual, she was having a hard time understanding her own participation.
“Ready?” he asked after a few minutes fraught with tension.
Deidre smoothed her hair, knowing it must look a mess. She tried smoothing her clothes but knew it was a waste of time. With all the sweat and heated passion, even the basics looked crumpled. Anyone seeing her would know what she’d been doing even without the surveillance cameras.
She nodded and he pulled his shirt from the wall-mounted lens. Deidre couldn’t resist watching as he dressed. She’d never be able to look at him again without remembering the magic he performed with his big, calloused hands. Her feminine muscles clenched at the thought. How could she ever forget the expanse of his chest or the size and feel of his penis?
She watched his every move but didn’t risk a glance into his eyes.
Silence reined as he tucked his shirttail into his pants. “We’d better go now,” he said, not offering a word of either thanks or contrition.
Instead of replying, she stood and led the way. Boudreaux jerked his hat off the second camera and reached around her to open the door. The brush of his chest against her arm made all the fine hairs on her body tingle with excitement. The man was a walking temptation for sexual misconduct.
The sound of two masculine voices reached them as they made their way down the narrow hall. The sheriff tensed but didn’t slow their progress.
Deidre cringed as she realized that the Deke must have returned. Now he and Bill were undoubtedly discussing her arrest and brief incarceration. Gossip would spread like wildfire. Her faced heated with renewed embarrassment as they approached the dispatcher’s office.
Luckily, an emergency call came in just as they reached the foyer and began to exchange greetings. The call redirected everyone’s attention.
“It’s old Mr. Gerard,” said Bill. “He’s insisting that the sheriff come to the hardware store immediately. Seems someone’s been stealing from him and he wants an arrest made.”
“I can take it,” offered Deke.
“Says don’t bother to send anyone but the sheriff,” Bill insisted. The Gerard family and the Merrick family had been feuding for years so Mr. Gerard chose to ignore the fact that Deke was an officer of the law.
Boudreaux shook h
is head in disgust. “I’ll go,” he said, flashing an apologetic glance at Deidre. She stiffened, feeling used and feeling as though he’d added insult to injury. She felt his gaze on her face but kept her expression deliberately bland.
With a sigh, he added, “Deke, could you drive Mrs. Luc back to her car? It’s parked a couple miles outside of town toward her house.”
The deputy looked uncomfortable but nodded his agreement.
Bill bid her goodbye. “You drive safe, now, Mrs. Luc. Wouldn’t’ want you to get into any more trouble today.”
She made a strangled sound but bit her tongue to keep from commenting. Then the sheriff ushered her out the building and toward the deputy’s vehicle. She glanced at him when he returned her keys but his expression didn’t offer a hint at what he was thinking.
Deke climbed behind the wheel as Deidre got in the passenger side. Boudreaux slammed the door with a terse warning, “Drive carefully.” She glared at his retreating back. She couldn’t believe he’d dumped her so abruptly and with so little regard to her feelings.
The trip to her car was uncomfortable, at best, but riding in the front seat was better than being handcuffed behind the bars in the back. The deputy was solicitous and kind, though obviously ill at ease. Their attempts at conversation quickly dwindled. As soon as she’d slid behind the wheel of her own car, he bade her goodbye and hurried back to the cruiser.
Deidre didn’t waste any time, either. She turned the ignition, shifted into gear and shot down the road. After stopping at the house to freshen up and don a change of clothes, she made a quick trip Randall City, the nearest large town. She had some purchases to make that couldn’t be found in Summersville.
Her plans to give Luc a night he’d never forget became even more urgent. Guilt spurred her imagination and she included some items to surprise him.
Chapter 2
It was early evening before Luc finally made it home. He pulled into the carport next to his small frame house and shut off the engine. Some of the tension drained from his body at the sight of his wife’s car parked in its usual spot.
Grabbing his hat from the passenger seat, he slipped it on his head and climbed from the truck. His mind had been on Deidre all day, but that wasn’t unusual. She’d filled his thoughts and fantasies since the day they’d met. There’d been plenty of women in his life but never one who so totally captivated him with her mind, her heart and her body. When he’d fallen for her, he’d fallen hard and fast and had gladly joining the ranks of reformed rakes. No woman since had so much as tempted him to stray.
He’d never understood how such a beautiful, brilliant and creative lady could fall for such an uncouth country boy like him but he’d thanked his lucky stars every day. Still, there’d been trouble brewing in paradise and he knew their relationship was at a major turning point. These last few weeks had been pure hell. He’d tried to be patient about her deadline, but they were headed for a major confrontation. He just hoped it didn’t end with her leaving him.
The thought that she might bolt back to New England had kept him from tackling their problems sooner. The chasm between them had widened and neither of them had done anything to stop it. Fear of completely alienating her had kept him from voicing his concerns about her unwillingness to share more of his life than just his home and his bed. He’d been avoiding the facts for a while now but, last night, he’d decided to end the wondering and worrying as soon as she had her manuscript in the mail.
He entered the house, tensed and wary.
Cool air greeted Luc along with the savory scent of crawfish jambalaya. He breathed in deeply, the smell of his favorite dish easing more of his stress. Surely Deidre wouldn’t have cooked it if she planned to walk out on him. He’d really pushed the boundaries of fair play today so he didn’t know what to expect. Maybe she’d been flattered or intrigued by his outrageous behavior. Maybe his actions had communicated his feelings better than words.
Or maybe she’d never forgive him and had cooked him a farewell meal before telling him to go to hell.
* * * * *
Deidre stirred the jambalaya and then set the heat to simmer. It was Luc’s favorite but it was the first time she’d tried to make it. He normally handled all the Cajun cooking while she stuck with basic New England fare.
Step one in the plan to salvage her marriage.
Step two involved a whole lot more courage and she’d been trying to bolster hers all afternoon. Three of her four wine coolers were history but she felt braver by the minute. One of the biggest tests would be greeting Luc. At the sound of him entering the house, she mentally prepared for battle. She wanted to play it cool, yet a slow blush rose up her neck. Damn her fair complexion. Just thinking about Boudreaux’s seduction had heat spiraling through her body. Her nipples beaded and a shudder of longing raced over her.
Facing her husband without displaying any nervousness or shame would be a monumental undertaking. She’d never been very good at acting but she needed to keep her emotions under tight control. It wouldn’t do for him to get suspicious.
A quick glance around the room assured her that everything looked fine. She’d cleaned the house in a whirlwind of activity and had the kitchen table nicely set for dinner. That—and the fact that she’d prepared his favorite meal—should please him
She’d changed into khaki shorts with a navy top that made her look very neat and preppy. Her hair had been twisted in a knot atop her head. All her special purchases were tucked out of sight and she was determined to follow through with her unconventional plan of seduction. Every time her resolve faltered, she reminded herself of Evangelina and the snide remark about Luc being restless. No way was she allowing her husband to prowl.
Deidre moved into the living room when she heard the front door close. As always, she caught her breath at the first sight of Luc. He was the epitome of tall, dark and handsome—especially in his sheriff’s uniform. Her heart squeezed when their gazes met and he gave her a tentative smile.
“Hi, Sugar,” he said, his deep baritone rolling over her in a wave of heat.
“Sheriff Boudreaux,” she replied, keeping her voice level despite the pounding of her pulse. She had to keep him off balance and wondering about her reaction to the little game he’d played this afternoon.
He went through his usual routine of locking his badge, holster and gun in a safety box before walking towards her.
“Do I smell jambalaya?”
“Yes. I don’t know if it’ll be as good as yours but the recipe seemed easy enough to follow.”
“It’ll be fine. It sure smells good.”
“Hungry?”
“Starved,” he replied.
He leaned down and gave her a kiss, but she quickly stepped aside when he would have reached for her and deepened it. He deserved a little coolness for not kissing her this morning before leaving for work. It seemed like a small slight, but maybe it held a bigger significance for him.
When his expression tightened, Deidre redirected his attention. “There’s cold beer in the fridge. Why don’t you sit down and relax while I get dinner on the table.”
Luc didn’t argue. He washed his hands and then got himself a beer. While she dished up the food, they made small talk. He asked about her manuscript, and she gave him a very unemotional narrative about the workings of the publishing world. They continued to talk about impersonal issues while they ate. Anytime he mentioned her trip to town, she swiftly changed the subject. She wanted to keep him wondering and off-balance.
By the time they reached dessert stage, Luc had gone quiet and watchful, trying to gauge her mood. She’d avoided looking him directly in the eyes and had skirted any personal subjects. He had to be worrying about her reaction to the little scene in his office. The humiliation she’d suffered wouldn’t be easily forgotten. They needed to discuss it but she wanted to control when and how.
Once they’d finished their meal, Deidre started to collect dirty dishes. When she reached for Luc’s plate,
he grabbed both her hands and pulled her between his knees.
“I forgot how easily you bruise,” he said, placing small kisses on each of her wrists. The handcuffs hadn’t hurt her but they’d left small marks.
A sizzling current of desire coursed through her at the feel of his mouth on her flesh, but she steeled herself against the excitement. It was time to orchestrate a little payback.
“You were very wicked to use handcuffs on me,” she complained.
Luc grasped her head with both hands, forcing her to look at him. The deep, tumultuous blue of his eyes made her knees go weak, but she stiffened her resolve.
“Are you very angry with me, chère?” he asked huskily, his expression troubled.
Deidre wanted to melt but—more importantly—she wanted to teach him a lesson. She wanted to prove that he didn’t have to take her hostage or hold himself in check when they made love. He didn’t have to worry about shocking her or restraining his own passionate nature. She loved him beyond words and wanted to be everything he needed: the focus of his fantasies, the lover who’d never let him stray.
“I’m angry enough to mete out a little punishment,” she told him.
Luc’s eyes widened and one dark brow lifted in surprise. He studied her features for a long minute but couldn’t get a hint of what she was thinking.
“Punishment, eh?”
“You deserve to be punished,” she responded waspishly. “I have my own form of justice planned if you’re willing to accept it like a man.”
Now she really had him intrigued. Deidre could tell by the speculative gleam in his eyes that he found her challenge irresistible. A glance at his lap confirmed an erection bulging behind his zipper. It pleased her to know that she could still arouse him without trying.
“I think I can take anything you dish out, mon amour.” My love. The amusement in his tone made her glare at him and jerk out of his grasp.
Cajun Sheriff Page 3
