Off the Rails

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Off the Rails Page 4

by Isabelle Drake


  Female pride zinged through her when his gaze locked in on her—thanks to modern engineering and those lovely folks at Victoria’s Secret—overflowing demi cups.

  “Oh yeah, sweetheart.” He groaned, staring at the swells inches from his face. “That’s the way I like it.”

  “There’s more where that came from,” Madison replied, taking his hands and shoving her breasts into his greedy palms. “You like? You want more?”

  “You know I do.”

  While he murmured his approval, she jerked down his zipper, then spread apart his brown uniform pants. His rock-hard erection sprang free and pointed straight up.

  Delicious.

  She would’ve liked him totally naked, but she was on a mission, and there simply wasn’t time for extras. Concessions had to be made, even in this case. And so she forged ahead.

  It wasn’t easy, but Madison managed to hold her upper body still enough to lock lips with him while keeping his hands right where she’d put them.

  Judging from his amazed expression, her time in Pilates had been well spent. And now she was going to put that time on the mats to good use by making damn sure he forgot all about why he’d pulled her over. Yet, right about the time she was going to slide herself down so she could cover his dick with her mouth, he froze. “Do you do this kind of thing, um…very much?” He looked at her breasts, still filling his palms. “I mean, um, so you do this…often?”

  Madison didn’t miss a beat. “If it could always be you, I’d be doin’ it all the time.” With that, she crawled backward, guided his cock into her mouth, and started sucking. Mmmmm…

  Now that he’d gotten the idea that he actually was getting a blow job in the front seat of his patrol car, he started taking action and making good use of those strong, solid thighs. His gentle upward thrusts glided his shaft back and forth over Madison’s tongue, giving her the opportunity to lick all of him. After his shaft was totally hard and completely wet, she pursed her mouth, putting pressure on his tip each time it swept between her lips.

  Madison lifted her mouth just long enough to say, “That’s it, lawman, more of that.”

  He was good at following directions so he kept up those thrusts, picking up speed as his cock stiffened even more. The cop’s orgasm came fast, his cock pulsing, squeezing salty cum into her mouth.

  He grunted then groaned and she knew for those few seconds she owned him.

  “Damn,” he muttered, grabbing at his pants.

  She flashed him a grin. “No doubt.”

  Two minutes later, about the time both of them had their breath back, the radio that Madison had so helpfully tossed onto the floor started making a series of really annoying beeps.

  Sheriff Mitch swore a in a very manly why-can’t-a-guy-just-have-a-minute-to-screw-some-random-girl-in-his-patrol-car way, tugged on his pants, scooped the annoying thing up, and started talking to whoever had been rude enough to interrupt their less than cozy post-coital state of affairs. While he chattered on in copspeak, Madison pulled herself together. Again, thanks to Pilates, it didn’t take long to have herself buttoned up and straightened out.

  “No, there’s no situation here,” he replied, his tone changing to one that could be considered less than amiable. Then he looked her way and grinned and she smiled back, the two of them enjoying a moment that would have been romantic had they known each other, or had any kind of true attachment.

  But then he glanced away. “No,” defensiveness crept into his tone, “I don’t need backup. Yes, I understand checking the school parking lots falls within my scope of responsibilities. I did not intend to neglect my duties. I’ll drive past in”—he checked his watch—”twenty minutes.”

  He clicked off and hooked the radio to his belt.

  Madison smoothed out her hair. “Too bad we’re all done here.” She traced the outline of his jaw. “I had a really, really good time.”

  His gaze flickered from the last glimpses of her bare skin to the back window of Tia’s car. “I have to go check the stupid school parking lot.”

  Madison took that to mean, ‘Never mind the insane driving. You and your friend can leave,’ so she kissed him one last time, scooted out of the car, and wiggled her way back to Tia and the still-annoying-even-in-death hilljack.

  Sheriff Mitch’s cruiser roared past as she climbed back into Tia’s car.

  Oddly, Tia wasn’t napping or flipping through a magazine, tapping away on her iPhone or waiting quietly. Instead, she was wrestling with the guy who had very rudely decided not to be dead after all. And, instead of saying to Madison, ‘Was he as hot as you hoped?’, she was screaming, “No, I do not want to have a fucking good time, you fucking asshole. Get the fuck away from me!”

  Apparently, Tia’s pet boy had chosen the wrong time to cast aside his subservient role and assert himself.

  Madison crossed behind the car and yanked open the back passenger door. Next, she grabbed a fistful of boy hair and yanked, pulling until he tumbled out of the car. He rolled out in a tumble of blue jeans and muscle.

  “Now don’t be like that, y’all.” He did his best to tidy himself up before turning his poster child face to Tia, who had scooted over to the driver’s seat. “Y’all ain’t gonna leave me here, is ya?”

  Madison slammed the door, climbed into the front passenger seat, and slammed that door, too.

  Then, when Tia said nothing in reply, his face shifted to mild terror. “We get through Georgia yet? Y’all gotta get me through Georgia.” The mild terror gave way to free-range panic. “I can’t stay here! I can’t be in Georgia!”

  He was nearly in tears with grief and distress, but Tia, clearly done with whatever she wanted to accomplish with him, gunned the engine and peeled away from the curb.

  Chapter Four

  In Need of a Guy

  “Stop being a total ass.” Tia snatched up Madison’s phone and waved it in the air. “Call Drew. Ask him about the committee.”

  It had been a couple days since they’d returned and already Madison was on to her next scheme. A scheme that did not involve calling her unshakable crush who may or may not have invited her to be on the Tag ‘n’ Swag committee. “It’s not that simple,” she said.

  “Yes.” She handed her back her phone. “It is.”

  Madison took it then burrowed deeper into her couch. “Don’t you remember what I said to him at that fucking Fall Harvest dance?”

  “No, I don’t. And I bet he doesn’t either. Even if he does, he probably thought it was funny, because it probably was.”

  “That statement makes no sense. Just so you know.”

  Tia pursed her mouth and stared.

  Madison groaned then tapped on her phone. “There. I just sent him a friend request. Satisfied?”

  “I want a follow-up report.” Tia pointed to the paper. “And put that away. Shopping for a guy is not like looking for a used car. You are not going to find a decent man to take to the reunion in the want ads. You could at least use the Internet like a normal person.”

  Madison lifted the paper higher, to block out Tia’s skeptical face, and kept scanning Friday’s ‘Get Personal’ section. “Lots of women find guys this way. That’s why they have this section. And,” she continued smoothly, “I have written out a two month business plan, and I’m going to follow it. It will be successful, ergo I will be successful.” She frowned. “Or look successful, anyway.”

  “A business plan?” Tia’s disbelief was palpable as she moved into the late afternoon sun slanting through Madison’s apartment and carefully seated herself in the Crate & Barrel chair across from its companion couch.

  “That’s right,” Madison replied, all efficient and focused. “I was a business major, if you will recall.”

  “Oh please. I remember the last time I heard you talk this way—”

  “Ah!” Madison collapsed the paper into her lap. “We made a deal! You don’t bring that up and I don’t bring up—”

  “Of course you remember that deal. But
the heartfelt, life-altering pact to go to the reunion, the one we made in blood? That one you simply cast aside when it no longer suited your needs.”

  Having second thoughts about sending the friend request, Madison picked up her phone and tapped the Facebook icon. It was too late for second thoughts because Drew had already accepted—and had sent her a PM. A hot flush of excitement made her nerve endings fire and her finger hovered over the message notification.

  Nope. She wasn’t ready to read it—yet.

  Madison shifted her attention, scanning Tia’s person, roaming across her with a critical eye. “Did you bring a peace offering?”

  Tia tapped the white bag in her lap. “Scones from The Vine work for you? Or do you need something more businessy—like donuts?”

  “Easy for you to make fun of us little people, Ms. Saleswoman of the Year.”

  Tia mumbled something that was probably a string of swear words she was pretending not to use, then followed it with, “Why don’t you look at the job ads while you’re at it?”

  It was Madison’s turn to mumble something then follow it up with, “By the way, will we be spending the afternoon needling each other? If so, I’ll start in about Harvey.”

  Tia scowled. “No, we won’t be needling each other all afternoon.”

  “Have we got our senses of humor back then?”

  “I suppose.” She pulled a scone from the bag.

  Madison accepted the pastry and replied, “Good. You can help me pick. Here are the three I’m considering.”

  Fun-loving, successful doctor needs a special woman to share wine, words and wisdom.

  Hot cop needs a good-time girl for a cool time.

  Tired of blind dates and personal ads? Find that person of your dreams over a fantastic meal. Three Courtship and Cuisine Dinners for only $48.50. You choose from groups of eight or twelve. Satisfaction guaranteed!

  “So?” Madison asked. “What do you think?”

  But Tia wasn’t listening. Instead, she was doing some important girl stuff on her phone.

  Madison tossed the paper aside, took a quick peek at Tia to make sure she was still doing whatever it was that was so important, and checked the message.

  Drew: Want to Skype tomorrow? To talk about the committee?

  Madison: The reunion committee?

  As soon as she hit send she realized how stupid that was. Of course he meant the Swag ‘n’ Tag thing.

  Drew: Yes.

  Madison glanced up again to be sure Tia wasn’t looking her way. She wasn’t. Good thing because her face felt like it looked beet red and her hands were shaking.

  A bunch of questions tumbled through Madison’s mind, but only two really mattered. Who else did you ask to be on the committee, and is your wife-slash-girlfriend on the committee? But even she knew she couldn’t ask those things. Not yet. There was really only one option.

  Madison: Yes. But it has to be before 5.

  In case one of the options from the ‘Get Personal’ section worked out.

  Seconds later he sent his Skype name along with the time, four-forty-five p.m. Then he logged out, disappearing as quickly as he had on graduation day.

  Grrr.

  He didn’t even give her the opportunity to confirm, the nerve.

  But, if she was honest with herself, it wasn’t annoyance that was skittering through her veins, making her heart pulse and her blood thrum. It was knowing that in less than twenty-four hours she’d be face-to-face, or rather screen-to-screen, with Drew Campbell.

  What should she wear? Where should she sit?

  Should she try to look cute? Serious? But not too cute, like she was trying too hard. Or too serious, like she actually cared about creating nametags or collecting swag for the giveaway bags. She needed a look that said, Hey, here I am, better than before. Aren’t you sorry you ignored me for years?

  “What? Why do you have that look on your face?”

  Drat. Tia and her ever vigilant eye. Madison tossed her phone down. “Nothing. No reason.” Then, when she didn’t look away, Madison added, “I don’t have a look on my face.”

  Tia cocked an eyebrow. “Did you make a date with one of those newspaper guys or buy a seat at that dinner?”

  “Nope.”

  Tia stared at her a few seconds more, then turned back to her own phone, leaving Madison alone with her pre-Skype jitters.

  * * * *

  As soon as Tia left, Madison snatched that discarded newspaper up off the floor, made her choice and acted on it. An email this time. It wasn’t a good choice, not really, but doing something made her feel in control. Her reasoning—it was better to do something than do nothing. And, well, that did make some sense. Especially if the choices of things being done were good.

  About an hour later she received a response to her email, and with that her evening for the next day was set. Skype with Drew at four-forty-five p.m., other thing at six p.m.

  And so things were again in motion.

  Chapter Five

  This Doctor is So Not In

  Madison had spent most of the afternoon cleaning her apartment. Drew was only going to see the corner of her living room, since that was where the best, most flattering light for Skyping was, but still it made sense to clean the whole thing. What if, for some insane reason, he said, hey, show me your whole apartment? Admittedly, him saying that wasn’t likely, but Madison had to do something with all that nervous—unemployed—energy flowing through her, and cleaning made sense. As a bonus, she realized it had been too long since she’d mopped the kitchen floor and seriously scrubbed her shower tiles. The sparkling results made her feel better and actually gave her some satisfaction.

  After cleaning, she spent about an hour trying on outfits to figure out which ones made her look right. She wanted to look casual but not unemployed, sexy but not trying too hard. In the end, she decided on a black V-neck tee. Once that decision was made, she flat ironed her hair, put on just the tiniest bit of eye makeup, then got herself away from the mirror before she could start trying to decide if after only five years she looked old.

  At four-forty-four she settled behind her laptop and waited. The clock at the bottom of her screen switched over to four-forty-five and the Skype chime sounded. A few clicks later and she was staring at Drew Campbell. Not exactly how she remembered him. He was better.

  All the good stuff was there—the quirky, almost-smiling mouth, the long lashes over gorgeous, intelligent eyes and the square jaw. Blond hair cut into some kind of sensible but unattended style. But now there was some awesome man stuff going on too, mostly in the form of bristles of a well-trimmed beard. Or was it stubble? There was too much shadow for her to tell if it was an actual beard or just several days’ growth, and she had to concentrate on not staring long enough to sort that out. Surely, he’d notice if she was staring at his mouth?

  “Hi, Madison,” he said matter-of-factly, as though all those years hadn’t passed. “Thanks for agreeing to be on the committee.”

  Had she agreed to be on the committee? She wanted to bristle and tell him she didn’t recall agreeing to be on the committee, but with him right there, staring at her through the screen, all she could do was nod and try not to look like a giddy idiot talking to her unrequited high school crush.

  “What do you think we should do for the nametags?”

  Hearing his husky voice and watching his mouth move, despite her efforts not to look at his lips, led to more dumb staring on her part. She moved her gaze outward. The faded green T-shirt that tugged on his shoulders revealed the thick muscles of his biceps. If she continued staring at his body, her mind was going to go blank. She yanked her gaze from him and stole a quick look around behind him. He was sitting in a kitchen. The countertops were bare, not a single dish in sight. There was nothing to tell her whether he lived alone or not. When her gaze came back to his face, she saw that he was waiting for her to say something.

  But all she did was blink and keep gazing at him.

  “So, u
m,” he said, filling in her awkward silence, “to get started, how about I send you half of the list of people who said they were coming, with their contact info, and you can get in touch with them and see what name they want on their tags. Sound okay?” He lifted his eyebrows and waited a few seconds then continued. “I was also thinking people might want to send an icon or picture to go along with their name. But that might get expensive in printing.” He held up his phone and waved it, giving Madison an opportunity to admire the long fingers of his very capable-looking hands. “Made a couple calls yesterday to see if any local printers want to give us a deal, since it’s a local event with all local people. They could print their name and website info on the back of the tags. A win-win, right?”

  All that was definitely more than she had ever heard him say at once, and more coherent too. If only she could stop thinking about what he’d look like without that faded green T-shirt and concentrate on the matter at hand.

  “Sound good to you?” he asked. “I’ll do half. You do half. Okay?”

  Finally, she found her voice but all that came out was, “Sure. Yeah. Right. A win-win.”

  “Want me to email you your part of the list?”

  “Sure.” She nodded and tried to curve her mouth into a cute smile, but the motion felt more like a nervous tic.

  “Want to give me your email?”

  “Oh, right.” She typed it into the Skype chat and hit send. “Just sent it.”

  “Great, got it. I’ll send you the list now. Hold on a sec.” When his gaze lowered as he looked around his screen, she took the opportunity to check out his shoulders and forearms. Yum.

  He looked up again. “Sent it. Let me know how it goes. Okay?”

  “Sure.” She tried another cute smile, but it again it felt like more of a twitch. “Yeah. Right.”

 

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