“I promise to be slow and kind.” He probed the entrance to her ass.
“Be anything you want,” she managed as he sank inside a bit farther and she gave into the beauty of surrender. “Here, you’re in charge.”
He pulled back, putting such distance between them that she could see he was rising to the occasion again. “Cocked and loaded for you.”
Bending over to grab another condom from the nightstand, she tore the foil with her teeth then rolled it up his blunt, hard shaft. “Sheathed, too.”
He frog-marched her backward to the far wall. “Too sore to let me in?”
Lifting one leg up around his thigh, she bit his lower lip in invitation, then fit her moist pussy to cradle his cock. “Never.”
Chapter Three
The beer was cold. The burgers rare. The conversation fun. Lex hadn’t had such a good time with a woman out of bed in ages. Years. And this one has the added attraction of enjoying your domination.
“How’d you decide to take this job?” he asked her as they cleaned up the kitchen after their late lunch.
She’d put her clothes back on as he had after they’d taken one more shower. Her ass fitted the jeans like she’d been poured inside. Catching him appreciating her figure, she scolded him with a sideways glance. “I had applied for the job of deputy sheriff last year and when Mac Barker died, the mayor called me down in Zapata and wondered if I’d consider the appointment of sheriff until the next election.”
“You like coming home to where you grew up?” He submerged his hands in the dishpan and scrubbed the plates.
“I do. I have friends who still live here and I like the climate a bit better.”
“Hot down by the border.”
“Tell me. In more ways than one. I got tired of chasing coyotes transporting illegals across the Rio Grande and killing them by locking them up in old trucks. And the drug wars were frying my mind, murdering people for no reason. Wore me out. I wanted a little more normality.”
Lex chuckled and suppressed the urge to bring up his neighbor who was damming up High Maria Creek and cutting off his water supply.
She took a plate from him to dry. “Plus, my only relative is an elderly aunt who relies on me to visit and help her out with doing her laundry and taking her to the doctor. So this is a good move for me.”
“Who’s your aunt?”
“Elsa Watson.”
“Elsa? Well, I’ll be damned. She was my mother’s best friend.”
“I know.” Lana smiled at him, then teased him with a saucy look. “I know lots about you, Alexander Coltrane. Star of the high school football team. Quarterback at Texas A&M. Member of the local chamber of commerce. Major donor to the county health clinic in honor of your wife and son. Lover of stray dogs and armadillos.”
He stared at her. “You have me at a disadvantage then.”
“That’s okay. You could say you’ll keep coming back to learn more about me.”
He took in the flowing, fiery-red curls, the high cheekbones and oval face. “I think I will. We’ve got a good beginning here.” If I can keep my tendency to run things under control.
She grinned at him. “Great. One thing I did not know about you?”
“What’s that?”
“You wash dishes.”
“Hey, you live alone for six years, you do everything you never had a handle on before.”
“Do you vacuum, too?”
He grimaced. “Sure. I dust. I wash. I even do windows. A necessity. Don’t you?”
“I don’t do windows.” She wrinkled her nose at him, then took another plate from him and pulled at her shirt collar. “But I iron. In fact, I love to iron! I do it for relaxation.”
He chuckled. “You lead a sheltered life, honey.”
She faced him, her expression full of sexual need and promise. “I’m hoping to change that.”
His hands itched to hold her, undress her again. Without drying them, he took two steps toward her and braced her shoulders. “I’d like to help you.”
She shivered under his wet hands. “I want you to.”
He couldn’t resist her lips. Brushing against them, he told her how he’d like to have her in her bed again. “We need to get better acquainted. Regularly.”
She pressed herself against him, her right leg up over his thigh again in what seemed to be her favorite lock on him, her pussy teasing his hardening cock. “I’m all for that.”
“The rest of the dishes can wait.” He bent and caught her up in his arms, heading for the stairs.
The phone rang.
“The hall,” she told Lex and he stopped by the stand.
“Pick it up.”
She put the receiver to her ear. “This is Sheriff Foster.” Grimacing, she listened to a man loudly describe some incident. “Yes. When?” Her gaze shifted to Lex’s. “Right. I can come now.”
Disappointed, Lex set her to her feet. “It’s okay. I’ll go home. You can call me afterward if you like.”
Her smile was like sunshine in August. Big and broad and brilliant. “Want to go see the fireworks together?”
He nodded, understanding the call of work and duty. Then he picked up the pen and pad next to the phone. “I’ll give you my number.”
She put a hand to his arm. “If I don’t call, it’s because I’m tied up.”
“Then when you’re free.” He was going to miss her company. The realization hit him fast and sweet. And it was not just the playtime in bed that made him grin, but he got realistic quickly. Is it good to care for a woman again?
Yeah, Coltrane. See where it goes. Life alone isn’t working out real well. And this woman is worth the emotional risk.
* * * * *
Four hours later, Lana never called him before she took the one-lane road over to Lex’s ranch house in a hurry. Fury riding her hard, she knew what she had to do and she was damn unhappy about it, too.
The sound of her patrol truck must have alerted him to her arrival because he came out the front door and stood, both feet planted on the sun-dappled porch. Two of his wranglers stood in front of the foreman’s house, inquisitive about the arrival of the sheriff.
“A problem?” Lex scowled at her as she shut the door and marched up the steps to face him.
“Yes, a big one. We have company.” She tilted her head toward his two cowboys. “Can we go inside?”
Curiosity lining his mouth, he pulled open the door in a flash. “After you.”
Pacing back and forth in the cool shadows of his front hall, she was seeing red.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, hooking his thumbs in his belt loops and frowning at her.
“Do you not know?” she challenged him, coming closer.
“If I knew, I wouldn’t ask.” He sounded truthful, miffed that she’d challenge him.
She had to be certain he was innocent. And she knew she shouldn’t even be here before she studied all the evidence. But disappointment that this discovery had happened now when she wanted to enjoy his company at the fireworks ate at her logic. “Did you put makeshift drains from the bend in High Maria Creek to run under the interstate bridge toward your property?”
His eyes popped. “No. I did not. Who says I did?”
“I do.”
“What?” He scowled. “Why?”
“Gregg Larsson had me out to that part of his land where the creek bends. He found makeshift pipe leading from High Maria to land on your side of the property line. That was who called when we were at my house. I had to go investigate.”
“You bet, you did.” Lex nodded, his jaw tightening with restraint. “But I’m curious as to how you think it was my doing.”
“I don’t think. I saw evidence.”
He snorted. “Whatever you’ve got, I did not do it. Show me what you’ve got.”
She knew he’d ask that, demand it even. But liking what they’d done in bed together did not mean she would jeopardize her integrity to uphold him. Or ignore any wrongdoing. “No. I’ll e
xamine it. Then send it to Austin to the Ranger forensics lab. I can’t simply take your word for it, can I?”
That made him snarl. In two steps, he had one arm wrapped around her waist and the other pushing her to the wall. “You can do anything you want. You’re the sheriff.”
“Yeah!” She writhed to get free of his grip. But he was fierce and anger made him stubborn. “I’m your fucking sheriff!
Devilry played across his features. “How true.” He kissed her, hard, fast and rough.
She broke away, her lips stinging, but his hand in her hair had him hauling her back to kiss her again. This kiss was more than the claim of the previous one. This was a lingering, lavish exploration of all the delicious desire they had shared.
“That’s real and true,” he whispered as he dragged his mouth from hers. “You think I’d lie to you? Now? After what we did earlier?”
Keep your sanity here, Sheriff. “Do I know you well enough?”
He cupped her chin with one hand and examined her eyes with sorrow in his own. “You knew me well enough to make love.”
The phrase melted her anger even more. If he could call their liaison that, then her belief that what they had done was more than fantastic sex was accurate.
His fingers bit into her shoulders. “If that’s not right, then how can you be so angry at me?”
The certainty of his retort had her fuming at herself, her job and him. She went for the only other explanation. “Would your wranglers do something like this?”
“My hands do as they’re told, here on my land. I did not tell them to cross that bend in the creek. There have to be other explanations, because this pipe is not my doing. And I wouldn’t put it past Larsson to do this himself to make me look bad. You know full well that I’ve been complaining that he’s damming up the flow to save what little water there is for himself and his cattle. One way to take the heat off himself is to put it on me.”
“Let me go,” she told him in a strangled voice. His logic good, her heart still sore.
“Once you know who did this, Lana, come back.”
He sounded sad, sincere and hurting, all of which she’d never imagined could be possible for powerful Alexander Coltrane. Could he offer that and be innocent?
When she didn’t answer, he gave her a small shake. “Promise me.”
* * * * *
“Is that a lot load printed on the inside of that pipe, Sam?” Lana lowered the magnifying glass and handed over one of the pieces of the plastic piping she’d found on Larsson’s property to her deputy.
He took his time examining the tiny print. “Sure enough.”
“We can trace it then,” she concluded, overjoyed at the possibility of some clue to the solution to this case. After the sleepless night she’d spent dwelling on this, she had to make an airtight explanation of it. Especially since she’d learned first thing this morning that the deputy who stood before her had seen her leave the fairgrounds yesterday with Lex Coltrane. Sam had made a bit of a joke of it, but after he heard her description of what had happened out on Larsson’s ranch last night, he was not so jovial. The possibility of conflict of interest was not one Lana welcomed. Now or ever. And if she stood a chance of having a relationship with Lex, any hint of favoritism could not stand.
“I hope we can,” Sam told her with a curt nod. “Why don’t we call the Farm and Tractor supply store?”
“They carry a lot of things,” Lana said, but then she reached for her office phone. Dialing information, she asked for the local plumbing shop. “Hi, Jared? Sheriff Foster here. I have a question for you. Do you carry plastic pipe?” She glanced at her deputy and nodded. “You do. Wonderful. White? How many types?” She winced. “Three different manufacturers. Hmm. If I bring you a sample of something I need to trace, can you help me identify it?” A few minutes later, she hung up. “Let’s go.”
“Do you need me, Sheriff?” Sam asked and pointed a thumb toward the back of the jail. “I’ve got those two guys in lockup on that robbery last night and I need to get them processed.”
“Tell Jennifer to start the paperwork.” Their office clerk had just arrived for work this morning and she could get the ball rolling. “You have to come with me and you know why, too.” She wasn’t going to let anyone, particularly her staff, even hint at favoritism. Everything here in the county was going to be done by the book. She might be young, but too many here had fought her appointment because of her age. Thirty was not exactly a spring chicken. Besides, she wanted this job. Permanently. She knew she was still the newbie, needing to prove her worthiness to everyone, including Lex Coltrane. “Come on.”
* * * * *
Lex was standing on his property line looking at the white pipe snaking over the caliche and grass when he heard a truck approach. Turning, he tipped up his Stetson with one finger and squinted at the sight of the sheriff’s patrol truck.
The glimpse of Lana behind the wheel gave his heart a lurch. The bright red hair shone like a beacon in the dark of the cab. Her profile, sleek with the upturned button nose, got to his gut. How did a few hours with one woman mean so much to him?
He strolled over to her and opened the door. He even extended his hand to help her down.
“Sheriff,” he said as coolly and collected as he could. “How’d you know I was here?”
“One of your hands told me you’d come out to examine this.” She looked him straight at him, but behind the big sunglasses, her eyes were unreadable. “I’ve got an update for you.”
“Let’s hear it.”
“Gregg Larsson bought that pipe in Dallas a month ago.”
“Well, how about that.” Vindicated, Lex put his hands on his hips and rocked back and forth on his heels. “You were fast.”
“Tracing it wasn’t hard.”
“Didn’t know you could do that.” He loved complimenting her. Making her eyes shine with pride, he’d learned yesterday and saw again now, doubled her beauty.
“I’m good at my job.” Her lips quirked, suppressing a wince, trying to smile.
Oh, honey. We’re in good shape. “A fine reason to keep you.”
“You’ll tell the mayor that?” She removed her sunglasses and he could see she looked weary, tired.
Did you not sleep well last night? Just like me? He sauntered forward two steps. “I’ll also tell the rest of the county council.”
She held her head up high and the look on her face was raw with worry. “Thank you. I want this job.”
“I want you to keep it.” I want to keep you.
“I owe you an apology.”
He extended a hand and let it fall to his thigh. “Not really. Things between us were mighty intense yesterday. I understood what happened last night and why. I know you did, too.”
She took a step toward him and this close, he saw a vulnerability in her eyes he had glimpsed yesterday as she had surrendered to him in bed. “But we had to have that confrontation.”
He drew nearer, sighed in satisfaction, and rubbed her arms up and down. “Sure we did. Acceptance of authority and all that.”
“Because I’m your sheriff.”
He grinned, all the tension draining from him now that he knew she’d found strong evidence of his innocence. Now that he knew they could proceed with their relationship without doubts or conflict of interest. “I believe the phrase is, ‘you are my fucking sheriff’.”
She chuckled now and wrapped her arms around him. “You bet I am,” she echoed his response of yesterday.
He hauled up her lithe body against his and beneath her starched shirt and skintight jeans he felt all warm, willing woman. He wiggled his brows at her. “So, Sheriff, take your fucking badge off.”
She arched away from him, unpinned the metal from her shirt and tucked it in her jeans pocket. “Better, Mr. Coltrane?”
He threw his head back to laugh, then scooped her up in his arms to head for his own truck. “Well, ma’am, I will be as soon as we climb in that cab and I get you naked.”
“We’re gonna do it out here in front of god and everything?”
“We are. Often. Everywhere. But you have to be good. Take my orders. Open that door for me like a good little jailbird, will you, honey?”
She grumbled playfully.
He threw her inside across the leather seat and climbed in over her, his hands rivaling hers to get her shirt unbuttoned and her jeans down. Her breasts spilled out of her bra, her nipples pointed like diamonds at him. Her pussy already giving off the fragrances of her need for him. “Hell, honey. Catching the sheriff has never been so much fun.”
She worked on the buttons of his fly and reached inside to stroke his cock, then let it out of his jeans. “If this is always my punishment, I promise to be a very cooperative prisoner.”
He groaned, knowing this was the beginning of a long, happy series of similar seductions. “How would you like to be under permanent house arrest?”
About the Author
An award-winning author of more than two dozen romances and mysteries, Cerise DeLand creates heroes readers crave. Cerise has met many men in her worldwide travels and created the best of the best from all the wonderful places she’s lived and visited. Today, she lives—and writes—in wild west Texas, where a never-ending stream of cowboys, vaqueros, para-military types and diplomats stroll into town and fuel her imagination for red hot affairs.
Cerise welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email address on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.
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