by Anne Marsh
“Open up a little.”
She hesitated just a moment, her thighs tensing against his shoulders before she let them fall open wider. He rewarded her for that obedience, moving higher, his fingers curling into the damp crease where her thighs met her pussy. God. He made her want more.
“Farther,” he coaxed, nudging her thighs. The cool surface of the metal desk beneath her ass and the ridge of fabric jammed at the base of her spine reminded her all too clearly of where she was. She’d started this and now he was finishing it.
“Did you lock the door?” She had to ask.
He lifted his head. “Do you care?”
God, she could feel those words on her skin. She did care. She didn’t want to say so, but that was a truth she couldn’t hide from. Outside, the fire camp was baking in the summer heat, but the air in cabin felt shockingly cool on her bare skin. She had no idea where to put her hands.
He took pity on her. “Yes,” he said. “No one’s coming through that door. You can relax.”
He lowered his head and hooked her waistband, his thumbs drawing her panties down. The soft brush of the fabric teased her sensitive folds, the material pulling deliciously where she was wet and swollen. He didn’t take them off, though, just left them tucked below her mound like now he could reach what he wanted and nothing else mattered. Anticipation filled her.
He swiped his tongue through the slick folds. Sensation burst through her, pleasure following each sure lick. No more thinking. No more worrying. She fell back and her hands shot right to his head, holding him to her as her own raw groan filled the cabin. Yes.
Dade wasn’t a man in a rush. Again and again, he kissed. Loved her all over. His tongue swirled around the top of her sex, then made the trip back down like he had all the time in the world and no rush, nowhere to be but here as the sweet, slow ache built.
His thumbs slid up, finding her opening and massaging. When he dipped just inside, that small penetration had her bearing down, seeking more. Her thighs trembled, muscles tightening with the orgasm rushing toward her and the need to keep in position.
“Let go. Lean on me a little. No worries, honey.”
His words vibrated somewhere deep in her core. His thumb dipped back inside her slit again, finding a sweet spot. She came, fast and unexpected, squeezing her eyes shut, pushing hard against his mouth.
He lifted his head. His hands moved lower, stroking her thighs, soothing her. Her eyes drifted shut again. She should move, should return the favor, but he’d reduced her to this boneless pile of limp.
“You don’t like being told what to do.” He slipped the casual observation in, like he was tell her something she didn’t know.
“Hell, no.” She opened her eyes and tried to slide back, to sit up and close her thighs. “Why would I?”
He laughed. “Sometimes, taking orders can be fun.”
She might have thought about that or argued some—or even given him a shot at convincing her that he was right—but the dinner bell rang outside and someone hollered her name. Real life was going to be knocking on the door of their cabin.
“I need to go back.”
He hesitated. “Sure,” he said finally. He pushed to his feet, the masculine grace and raw power of that big body kicking her senses into overdrive again. “Looks like I have a date with dinner after all.”
“We’re not dating.” She kept her voice firm. Of course, it was hard to sound dignified and in control when he gave her a hand off the desk and stood her up. The sudden movement had her off balance, and she caught herself on his shoulders before she realized what she was doing and let go. His big hands adjusted her panties matter-of-factly, but then he squeezed her ass gently before pointing her toward the door.
“Whatever you say, honey.”
Chapter Three
The fire camp at Big Bear Lake wasn’t precisely easy to find, and the two-lane highway that dumped him at the ranger station near the park’s entrance was a poor excuse for a road. The police cruiser had hit every pothole and then some, although the suspension had handled the rough ride just fine. Plus, the car had everything Thad Hill needed for today’s job. He had a full rack of shotguns and a couple of extra handguns tucked inside the glove compartment out of sight. The handcuffs hooked to his belt had Sarah Jo’s name on them, and he wasn’t leaving without her. He had a score to settle, and it was time for her to pay up.
He’d switched the radio off as soon as he crossed his county line. After all, this wasn’t really official business, much as he wished it was. For one thing, his department didn’t have jurisdiction this far southwest. Sarah Jo had gotten that much right when she’d run. Still, he’d kept the case open. No one back home liked how that sweet Mrs. Joan’s home had gone up in flames, and everyone wanted the guilty party to pay. The way he saw it, that guilty party was Sarah Jo. She should have kept her mouth shut, so she’d brought this little search-and-retrieval on herself. Plus, it had been easy enough to work his connections to add himself to her credit card and watch for a trail of charges. She’d stuck mostly with cash, but when he’d reported her ATM card stolen, she’d switched briefly to the card. That one screw-up was all he’d needed.
He parked the patrol car, opened the door, and stood up, adjusting his uniform. Despite the long drive, his pants still held the perfect crease and his utility belt was a thing of beauty. In addition to his semiautomatic, he also had his department-issue baton, another pair of cuffs, and a Taser. People looked at him different when he was in uniform. Not only did they know he was carrying, but they knew he was in charge. He made the rules and they obeyed them. Fuck up, and he’d haul their asses in to the station in the back of his car. That black leather seat had given him some good times, letting his latest arrest convince him to give her a second chance.
Imagining Sarah Jo’s face locked back there was even better. Reaching back into the car, he adjusted the rearview mirror. He wanted to have a good angle when sorry repentance replaced the puss full of defiance she’d shown him at their last meeting.
He looked around. The fire camp was a sleepy dot in the middle of nowhere. He still couldn’t imagine Sarah Jo, city creature that she was, spending time here. He’d bet she was miserable. Hell, there was nothing happening here, just a handful of weathered wooden buildings and a patch of gravel mostly filled with beat-up trucks and a few Japanese imports. A dented POS peeled out of the impromptu lot, some foreign car from overseas with good mileage and a decent resale value. There was a little fuck you spit of gravel as the driver left the parking lot too fast.
He’d bet good money that was Sarah Jo leaving.
She’d be back.
After all, there wasn’t anywhere she could go.
She was wrong and he’d make her see that. Hell, maybe he’d even listen to her apology. He’d grown up with his daddy on the force, where there were always corners a man could cut, whether it was shaving a few minutes off the time clock or accepting a hot cup of coffee on the house. Thad had simply taken it to the next level. Hell, he figured he was entitled. And it wasn’t as if that old woman needed her jewelry. She had nowhere to go, and she couldn’t take it with her. This way she got the insurance money to enjoy now, and he figured that was win-win. He’d stash the pieces, come back for them in a few years when he was ready for a little R&R. Keeping Sarah Jo around had run through his head a time or two, but now she was a liability. She’d opened her pretty little mouth and talked and talked. No one at the station was listening—yet.
Truth was, she wasn’t the kind of woman a man believed. Maybe it was the multicolored hair, or maybe it was the impish grin that lit her face up, pure trouble waiting to happen. She liked breaking rules, and that left her looking like the little boy who cried wolf. He, on the other hand, was a fine, upstanding figure of the law. His word was pure gold.
She’d lost.
He’d won.
Nice how things worked out so well for him. Just in case that hadn’t been Sarah Jo beating feet, though, he s
canned the camp, but she wasn’t marching out to meet him. That was fine. He’d have fun flushing her out. Pretty as she was, sex with her would probably have been decent. Seeing as how she was all wild child on the outside, he’d have tried a few non-vanilla moves on her. Seen how far she’d let him take her in bed. Some women liked a little kink, and he’d bet his money on Sarah Jo being one of those.
The cabin door caught his eye. Someone had added a neat sign saying MAIN OFFICE.
Good enough. He’d start right there with the man in charge.
Deputy Hill flipped his badge case closed. His creds certainly looked genuine, although there was always the possibility that the man was a fake with the real article. Dade added that to his to-investigate list.
“You have business here?” Dade’s posture was deliberate, chosen to intimidate. Thad Hill wasn’t a small man, either, but Dade had an advantage. Namely, he didn’t have to pretend to be nice. Or professional. Even if Sam Clayton was off-site at the moment and that made Dade the man in charge.
He did try to be objective, however, when he scanned the man’s face. Women probably found the arrogant bastard attractive. Maybe. Hell if he knew, but the man had certainly gotten his attention when he’d slid a grainy picture of Sarah Jo across the desk. Dade was still reeling from what had happened between the two of them in the supply depot yesterday. That had been the hottest sex he’d ever had, and yet then Sarah Jo had slipped away from him. The quickie was great, but he’d been left wanting more. Definitely more sex, but also more of the woman. He wanted a lover, wanted to get to know the woman better.
A woman who was clearly keeping some big secrets.
“I’m investigating an arson.” Deputy Hill obviously expected this to be greeted with a chorus of Hallelujahs or some such, because Dade’s continued silence made the other man blink. Which was why Dade kept his mouth shut and waited. Sooner or later, Hill would tell him what he needed to know.
Hill fidgeted. “You run into much arson up here?”
Hooked. “We’ve got plenty of fire up here,” Dade allowed.
Hill shook his head. “Not a Big Bear kind of blaze. My fire is three hundred miles southwest of here.”
The downright possessive tone in Hill’s voice set off all kinds of alarms. An officer of the law wouldn’t be nosing around here without some kind of professional reason, but this didn’t sound like a routine investigation at all.
“Have you seen this woman?” Hill trotted the line out like he was starring front and center in a bad television show.
Dade had guessed she was on the run. He’d just been hoping that she’d let him in on the reasons why before law enforcement showed up for her.
“You looking for her?” Dade countered, while he ran options in his head. Outing Sarah Jo to this man wasn’t happening. There was something off here, and Dade had learned years ago to listen to that little voice in his head. His subconscious processed way before the facts reached the rest of his head. So, if his heart said there was something wrong, his head was listening.
“Sure am.” Hill’s thumb stroked over the glossy. “Sarah Jo here is wanted for arson. She burned down the house of a little old lady she took care of.”
“The lady get hurt?” Christ, he hoped not. Whatever had happened, Sarah Jo didn’t need to carry that burden, too.
Hill shook his head. “No, just a whole lot of property damage. You know where Sarah Jo is?”
“Can’t help,” he said blandly. More like, wouldn’t, but no point in tipping his hand to Hill just yet.
“No?” Hill sound skeptical. “Because I’m fairly certain she’s up here.”
“Let’s call in the boys, then,” he suggested. “See if they’ve got anything to say.”
The reaction of the other hotshots when they piled into the cabin said plenty, too. Dade’s boys didn’t like the newcomer. Thad Hill was a big, bluff, friendly guy, but he was too friendly.
Dade couldn’t help remembering that Sarah Jo hadn’t liked that last police visit, either. She was a runner, all right. He’d seen her car pull out, not spitting gravel, but still moving a little too fast. It was the wrong time of day, too, for crew to be leaving.
Hell. He was done playing twenty questions. Muttering a quick excuse, he left Hill interrogating the other hotshots and headed out for the cooks.
Good thing about those gals was that they were easy to find. Blowing through the door of the cafeteria, he stepped into the path of the first cook he spotted. She wisely came to a halt rather than slamming into him. Their cooks always had been prudent women, which just made Sarah Jo that much more of a standout. She lived wholeheartedly, plunging in after what she wanted. She didn’t hang back.
“What does Sarah Jo drive?”
The cook eyed him suspiciously for a long moment. Yeah. She was calculating whose side he was on here. This wasn’t a playground, and they weren’t playing boys against girls. He focused on projecting calm. He and the cook, they both wanted what was best for Sarah Jo.
To give her that, though, he had to catch up with her first.
“Honda Civic,” she said finally, when he crossed his arms over his chest and waited. “You going after her—or selling her out to that man over there?” She nodded toward the office.
Thad Hill had better not accept any offer of coffee these ladies made him, because the cook standing in front of him was definitely out for blood.
There was no question about his answer. He had Sarah Jo’s back, even if she wasn’t ready to open up and let him in. Whenever she was ready, though, he’d be there.
“I’ll always go after her,” he said.
Truth.
The Harley came up fast behind her. The powerful cycle devoured the road, easily chewing through the small distance she’d put between herself and the camp. Low-slung with a custom black paint job, the bike paled in comparison, however, to the helmeted man riding it. Dade hugged the powerful machine with his legs, all black leather and raw power. He looked hot.
Good enough to eat.
And sex with Dade had rocked her world in more ways than one yesterday. She’d pulled him into the storage depot because she’d known she was running out of time, so she’d figured she would take what she could get. Life was too short not to get her hands all over her hunky hotshot. What she hadn’t expected, however, was that Dade would make her feel something besides sensual bliss. She’d wanted to curl up next to him, into him. Let him take care of her as she poured out her worries and concerns.
Which wasn’t happening because although she barely knew him, she knew the type. Pure trouble.
Pure temptation.
She could ignore him. That was a possibility. She’d left camp and he had no business following her, plus she could always argue that she hadn’t recognized him with the helmet on. Driving on and on was a tempting thought. She’d cranked the radio up as soon as she’d cleared the parking lot and Thad’s line of sight, going pedal to the metal somewhere else. Anywhere else. Unfortunately, the near-empty gas gauge said she’d need to refill before she did too much more driving.
Driving like a mad woman hadn’t been the wisest of moves, but there was no denying the truth to herself. Thad scared her. He wielded his badge like a weapon, and she was in his sights. She’d peeled away from the camp and spent the next fifteen miles of windy, twisty highway trying to convince herself to dial it back.
She half expected Dade to pass and cut her off, but instead he dropped in behind her Honda. Not crowding her bumper any, but right up on her ass where she couldn’t miss him. He flashed his lights and jerked a thumb to his left. Once. Twice. Part of her wanted to talk. A very small part. The rest of her, however, was convinced that the faster she ran, the better. She contemplated driving straight to Mexico for a long moment, then flipped the turn signal on and eased her foot off the gas.
She really couldn’t keep running forever.
Twenty yards of guardrail and mountain gave way to a small turnout. Bingo. She pulled off carefully.
A small placard declared this was a Scenic Spot and there was one hell of a view. There wasn’t much besides all that outdoors beauty, however, other than a few yards of rutted gravel and a wooden picnic table. She killed the motor but left her keys in the ignition. On the horizon, a dark boil of smoke announced that the Rogues would have plenty of work tomorrow.
Getting out of the car, she crossed to the picnic table, hopped on top, and examined the drop-off. Or pretended to. There might have been a sheen of tears over her eyes, but she wasn’t admitting that.
Behind her, gravel crunched as Dade pulled his bike off the road and coasted to a stop. Leather and denim rustled as he threw a leg over the seat and then approached. For a big man, he moved quietly. He didn’t hesitate or pull his punch about what he’d seen back there in the camp. For some reason, that wasn’t as scary as it should have been.
She had a sinking feel that she trusted this man.
“Hey,” he said when he stood in front of her, opening his arms. “You want to tell me what this is about? Why there’s an officer of the law looking for you?”
“Did you tell him about me?”
He smiled, real slow. “What do you think, Sarah Jo?”
She didn’t have the faintest clue. “Do I look omniscient?”
“No,” he said. “Of course I didn’t tell him anything. I was singularly unhelpful, as were the guys. We didn’t know a damned thing. Last I saw him, Deputy Hill was getting back in his car, as unenlightened as when he arrived.”
He gestured with his arms, another, smaller Come here gesture. “You going to spill the details now?”
She shook her head and stayed put. She wasn’t a hugger under any circumstances. “Nope. Not a chance in hell.”
“Uh-huh. That’s what I figured. You have trust issues, Sarah Jo.”
