Crime Tells: Cady's Cowboy

by Jory Strong

They stopped short of the couch, stripping out of their clothes and going down to the floor in a tangle of arms and legs as they struggled to get as much skin-to-skin contact as possible. Kix’s body was everything Cady had fantasized it would be—his cock swollen and thick, its head flushed and wet.

  His mouth went back to her breasts, kissing and sucking and licking as though they were a temptation he couldn’t resist. Cady reached for his penis, stroking along the shaft before moving to the sensitive head. He groaned, wetting her palm with drops of pre-cum. She used the moisture to tease him until his hand cupped hers and his hips humped up and down, sliding his cock in and out of their combined grip.

  His strokes grew faster, more forceful, until he groaned and jerked out of her grip, his own hand still on his cock, trying to stave off orgasm rather than achieve it. Cady was entranced by the sight, by the pleasured agony she saw in his face. “Kix,” she whispered.

  He huffed out a breath, feeling like a stud put to his first mare. “Cady darlin’, I can’t hold off much longer. He reached for his jeans and pulled out a foil packet, ripping it open with his teeth.

  “Let me do it.”

  Kix groaned at the look on her face. “Not this time, darlin’. I won’t last if you touch me again.” She leaned in, mesmerized by the sight of him smoothing the condom over his erection.

  When he was done, he gathered her in his arms and lay back, pulling her on top of him, then rolling so that she was underneath him, legs spread, her cunt cradling his throbbing penis. When she wrapped her legs around his hips, it was all he could do to keep from driving home in one stroke and pounding into her.

  But he wanted to take it slow, wanted to savor this first time with her. So he leaned in, covering her mouth with his, tempting her tongue to come out and play—to dance and twine and thrust until she was whimpering and grinding and finally tilting so that in one smooth, perfectly choreographed move, his cock slipped inside her.

  They stilled for a heartbeat—eyes locked, trapped in an instant of perfect unity—and then neither could hold back any longer.

  A fever gripped Kix and all he could think about was driving into Cady, pounding into her and filling himself with the sounds of her pleasure. Something primitive inside of him screamed for him to stop and rip the latex barrier away so the he could feel his woman’s tight little channel as it gripped him. He fought the urge by going deeper. His thrusts becoming more frantic, as did hers. When she orgasmed, he joined her, shaking and snorting and groaning like a stallion breeding a mare as a wash of lava-hot semen rushed through his cock.

  They lay entwined for several moments afterward, Cady’s fingers mimicking his as they stroked along his backbone and the base of his spine. “I hope you don’t expect me to jump up and drive you back to Adrienne’s house right away,” Cady teased and his heart blossomed with warmth at the underlying uncertainty he heard in her voice. Damn, she was so refreshingly honest.

  Kix brushed a kiss along her neck. “That’s just the warm up, darlin’. I haven’t fully deputized you.”

  She laughed and shifted so they faced each other. “You think maybe I’m not familiar enough with the equipment yet?”

  “Not by a long shot.” He gave her a quick kiss. “Ready for bed, darlin’?”

  “I want a shower first.”

  Kix grinned. “I like the sound of that.”

  Cady heated up another couple of degrees. “It’s not a very big shower.”

  “We’ll double up.”

  They moved to the bathroom and Cady flushed. It was a favorite fantasy of hers, but now she felt awkward. Kix pulled her against his body. “You want me to braid up this pretty mane of hair so it won’t get wet?” She shivered and nodded. He rubbed the side of his face against her hair, then made quick work of getting the wild curls under control.

  Cady stepped into the shower and grabbed the bar of soap. Kix followed her, holding his hand out, but she shook her head. “My turn first.”

  God, what a gorgeous body. For a long minute all Cady could do was stare at it. There wasn’t an ounce of fat anywhere, and everything was perfectly proportioned.

  Her attention moved to his cock and when it gave a little leap of recognition, Cady’s gaze flew to Kix’s face. Heat flooded her cunt at the lazy smile and appreciative look in his eyes.

  She lathered up her hands, dropping the bar of soap before slowly stroking over his smooth chest. His penis jumped again. His nipples went to tight little points, and when Cady smoothed her fingers over them, he groaned and stepped into her, pressing his now-erect cock against her water-slick skin.

  She flicked her thumbs over the nipples, then moved so the water would wash away the soap before she leaned forward and laved the sensitive points with her tongue. Kix groaned and wrapped his arms around her, holding her against him.

  Cady tortured him as he’d tortured her, moving from one nipple to the next as she used her fingers and tongue, and the suction of her mouth to drive him higher.

  When he was panting and grinding his pelvis against her, she moved her assault lower—first trailing her hands down his sides and abdomen—then following with her mouth.

  His cock pulsed and jerked against her cheek, demanding attention as Cady knelt, exploring the smooth flesh over the rock-hard firmness of Kix’s abdomen. She leaned away from him and looked up—going hot and needy at the feral, hungry expression on Kix’s face as he looked down at her.

  Kix braced his hands against the walls of the shower, trying to keep them from grabbing her and holding her so that he could get his cock into her hot little mouth. Every cell in his body was tense with anticipation—and fear that she wouldn’t give him what he was suddenly sure he needed to have in order to survive. “Cady, darlin’…” It was a guttural plea that he couldn’t stop from escaping.

  Cady’s face flushed and she whispered, “I’ve never done it before. You’ll have to tell me what you like.”

  Fire raced through Kix’s cock. Primitive satisfaction rushed through his heart and soul.

  His penis twitched and Cady leaned forward, tentatively circling the flared, pulsing head with her tongue. Kix bucked involuntarily and closed his eyes against the pleasure she was giving him. Damn, but he just wanted to lose himself in her.

  Her mouth widened, inviting him in with small sucks, and he began pumping in short strokes. Her hands went to his hips and his buttocks clenched. The low moans she was making as she sucked, pulling him deeper with each thrust, had his balls pulling tight against his body. Against his will, the pressure began to build, warning him that he wouldn’t last much longer.

  As much as he wanted to come that way, he wanted to be inside her tight, hot pussy more. With a groan he pulled away, panting, “I’m too close, Cady darlin’.”

  “It would have been okay,” Cady said, flushing adorably and sending a shaft of pure happiness through Kix.

  He pulled her to her feet, hugging her to him. “Another time, darlin’, you can bet the entire pot on it. Right now I got something better in mind.”

  Cady smiled against his shoulder. “I didn’t think anything was better than a blowjob to a guy.”

  Kix laughed. “Well, it’s right up there—I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t. But ever since you told me you liked to ride, I’ve been fantasizing about having your hot little body riding mine.”

  Cady pressed a kiss against his wet skin. “I’ve had that same fantasy.”

  “Well, darlin’ let’s go for a ride.”

  Afterward, Kix wrapped himself around a sleeping Cady and wondered how it had happened. There’d been no warning, no way of seeing it coming. Somehow, he’d been sucker punched. But the unfamiliar feelings chasing around in his heart like a dog after its tail didn’t leave any room for being mad.

  He ought to be fighting like a bull that had been roped and thrown down for branding. Instead he was awake, curled up around a woman—his woman—worrying about whether or not he was going to be able to keep her safe if this investigation wen
t sideways.

  Damn, he didn’t like the feel of what was going on at the track, couldn’t get his head around the crime, or what the person setting Adrienne up was after. It didn’t make any sense, so there was no way of knowing how it would play out—whether things would get uglier and turn more dangerous.

  Kix rubbed his chin on the top of Cady’s head and she mumbled something in her sleep, snuggling even closer and sending a fresh wave of heat through him when her ass wriggled against his penis. “Damn, you’re a distraction, Cady darlin’. But I don’t think I can do without you.”

  Chapter Five

  As far as Erin was concerned, San Francisco was a claustrophobic’s nightmare. Wall-to-wall buildings blocked out most of the sky and there were too many cars, too few parking places, a meter maid on every block, and way too many people. She felt like she was going to hyperventilate as soon as she drove into the city, but the prospect of landing the job as the official photographer for the big Cow Palace show had her trolling for a parking place, feeding the meter, and then pushing through crowds of people in order to get to Bob Levy’s office.

  She’d never met Levy, but she knew he was an important man in the dog show world—a past president of the American Kennel Club and an avid long-time fancier of pugs. The Cow Palace Show was the dog show event of the West Coast, and the San Francisco kennel club putting it on was a prestigious one. Membership came via birthright, not by filling out an application and sending in a fee. She was only here because one of her clients had put in a good word for her when the kennel club’s usual show photographer was ousted as a result of club politics.

  Erin crossed her fingers as she made her way into Levy’s reception area. It’d be a real coup if she could get the job. And there was plenty of work to pull Cady in, too.

  She bit her lip at the thought of her sister. The heat sizzling between Cady and the cowboy had been enough to turn the air in Cady’s house downright sultry. Erin hoped that Cady knew what she was doing.

  Until now, Cady had always been more like her—cautious when it came to the opposite sex. Lyric, on the other hand, had always boldly gone where no sensible woman would go.

  Erin shivered. Oh yeah, caution was a good thing. She only had to look as far as Lyric’s new husband to confirm that. Kieran oozed alpha male—the kind that practically sweat testosterone and dominance—not that Lyric didn’t give him a run for his money and enjoy every second of it. In other words, they were perfect for each other.

  But no thanks. No thanks to a dominating male. And in particular, no thanks to any male in the law enforcement profession. No cops—especially vice cops like Kieran—no private investigators—she’d seen her male cousins in action—and no bounty hunters. She didn’t want to have to worry every time her husband left for work that something would happen to him and he wouldn’t make it home.

  A door opened and Erin forced her thoughts to the upcoming interview as Levy ushered her into his office. He was younger than she’d expected. But the old adage about people looking like their dogs, or vice versa, proved true. Pudgy, bald headed, and short-nosed, Levy looked a lot like the breed he’d spent a lifetime promoting—pugs.

  Erin placed her portfolio on Levy’s desk before taking her seat. Levy settled into a heavily padded chair and immediately took the offered collection of photographs and began flipping through them. He finished and placed the portfolio back on his desk just as Erin’s chair had finally molded to her shape. Her heart dropped to her feet. It had been years since someone had rejected her so quickly.

  Levy looked up. “Beautiful work. The job’s yours if you want it.”

  Shock held Erin silent for a long minute. “That’s it? Just like that?”

  He nodded and smiled. “I’ve seen your work hanging on a few walls. The portfolio just confirmed what I already thought. I assume you want the job.”

  “I’d love to do the show.”

  “Good, good.” He looked at his watch. “I’ve got to get to another meeting.” He picked up a manila envelope and handed it to Erin. “My secretary prepared a package of information for you. Look it over. Give me a call if you have any questions.” He rose from his chair. Erin followed suit. Both of them were startled when they heard a roar of angry voices from outside his window.

  Levy frowned and stalked over to look outside. “Damn protesters.”

  Erin joined him at the window. The view from his office was much different than the one she’d seen when she entered on the other side of the building. Below them there must have been two hundred screaming, sign-toting protesters—ringed by an equally impressive number of blue-uniformed policemen.

  She grimaced. She did not miss the three-hundred-and-sixty-seven days and five hours that she’d been a cop. “What are they protesting?”

  “Today it’s anti-fur.” Levy snorted. “What a mess. No point in even being at the office. Clients don’t want to come in. Noise gets so bad you can’t even hear yourself think.”

  Another wave of chanting rippled through the crowd. Erin scanned the scene one more time, wondering if there were any shots worth wading in for. She did a double take when she saw the man at the front of the crowd. He looked just like the guy Cady had photographed at Bay Downs. She closed her eyes, concentrating on seeing the pictures she’d developed for Cady last night. She was pretty good with faces and the one in the protest below matched the one in her mind’s eye.

  As soon as she left Levy’s office, she headed for the demonstration. The crowd felt anxious and tense. The policemen who ringed the demonstrators looked dead serious about maintaining order.

  In addition to the men who surrounded the protesters, there were several more on horseback, and other men stationed in second-story offices. Erin could see them standing next to open windows, radios in hand, waiting to identify troublemakers.

  TV and radio crews mingled with the demonstrators, their microphones and cameras at the ready. Erin suspected that they wouldn’t be disappointed. She stopped long enough to get her camera out of its case, then skirted the perimeter of the crowd, trying to get to a point where she could see the protesters at the front.

  It was slow going, but when she finally made it, Erin felt a thrill of victory. The man standing at the front of this protest was the same one who’d been leading the Bay Downs group. He may have been going through the motions at Bay Downs, but here he was chanting loudly and hoisting his sign with passion.

  Erin dredged up the demonstrator’s name—Danny something… Danny Meyers—that was the name on the release form he’d signed. She lifted her camera and started taking pictures. This version of Danny could hold his own against any of the save-a-tree protestors that Kix had joked about.

  She’d gone through her first roll of film and was just loading a second when a jockey-sized man pushed through the crowds and came to a stop next to Meyers. From the expression on the protestor’s face, he knew the man, but he wasn’t happy to see him. They exchanged a few words. Meyers shook his head “no”. The jockey-sized man grew angry, his face flushed and he snarled something at the protester. Meyers looked up and around, then handed his sign to the woman next to him. The two men slipped out of the crowd. Erin checked to make sure her film had fed in correctly before following them, her heart thumping with anticipation and nervousness.

  She kept her distance, though neither man seemed concerned about being seen together. They were arguing, though Meyers seemed to be doing most of the talking. Five blocks over they came to a halt next to an old orange Volkswagen.

  Meyers opened the trunk and retrieved an index-card-sized box. Erin snapped a shot just as he handed the box to the smaller man. They exchanged a few more words then parted company without exchanging anything other than the box.

  Erin ducked into an alleyway and waited for them to get out of sight before she returned to the demonstration. Meyers was back to protesting, sign waving high, voice raised in a chant. She watched for a few minutes longer. Then just as she was turning to leave, a woman
wearing a long fur coat emerged from the store in front of the protestors.

  Erin shook her head, amazed but not amazed, wondering who in their right mind would put on a fur coat and parade in front of demonstrators.

  Meyers dropped his sign and pulled a spray can out of his shirt. A second later he lunged toward the woman and before any of the policemen could stop him, he managed to spray blood-red paint across the woman’s fur coat.

  Another protester dashed in and added his can. The woman stood shrieking and screaming as the crowd roared its approval.

  Erin recorded it on film even as she was put off by the sorry melodrama taking place in front of her. Not that she wasn’t sympathetic to the cause—she was. But it was a predictable plot, played out time and time again by fur wearers and anti-fur protesters. She wondered how many times the image of a fur coat with blood-red paint had been splashed across the front page of local newspapers. She didn’t think it changed anything.

  A third man tried to join the other two, but before he could add his paint to the coat, policemen swarmed in and dragged all three men away. Erin figured she’d seen enough. She put her camera back in its case, anxious to call Cady and tell her what she’d seen. She wished there was some way to hand off the film for developing, but it was going to have to wait until evening. She had appointments already scheduled and they were taking her further from home, not closer.

  * * * * *

  Cady shivered as she thought about waking up snuggled into Kix, his morning erection pressed against her so that all she had to do was shift slightly and he slipped into her already wet slit and began pumping in and out slowly, as though he wanted to put off the moment when they had to get up and start the day.

  She’d half expected it would be awkward waking up with him in her bed and having to drive him back to Adrienne’s place. It wasn’t—and that worried her. Fixing his breakfast and handing him a cup of coffee first thing in the morning felt right—perfect. Giving him a kiss before he got out of her truck and sauntered up Adrienne’s walkway only made her anticipate when she’d see him next.