“It’s the truth. As you know, we have explosive personalities on this team. Eric Webb can’t control them.”
Jay could have told him that. And what did Paskins want? Advice? My ass. They canned him. They could muddle through it.
“For the first time last weekend we weren’t sold out. There were 2,346 empty seats. Our fans aren’t happy with us.”
What did Paskins want him to say? Sorry? Good luck.
Paskins swiveled back and faced Jay. “Anyway. I saw on the news you’ve been working out in North Carolina.”
Now they’d make small talk? Doubtful. Jay stood. “Grif’s brother is a former Green Beret. He’s a good guy. Has a training facility for law enforcement, but he’s not limited. There’s plenty of land for hiking and team building. It’s been good. Got me out of my routine. Cleared my head.”
Paskins rolled his bottom lip out. “Interesting. You think he’d work with us?”
Jesus. How much did these people expect of him? Too much, apparently. Now he was done. And ready to get back to Steele Ridge. To Maggie.
He checked his watch. “I have a car waiting. I’d suggest calling Grif about the training center. I can’t help you there.”
On her way home, Maggie assisted on a domestic battery call involving a couple arguing over the correct spelling of coincidence.
What the hell was wrong with people? First of all, coincidence wasn’t a particularly hard word. Second, alcohol should never be mixed with weapons. That combination added up to three law enforcement officials separating a couple of drunks wielding iron skillets. Prior to Maggie’s arrival, Blaine had even been walloped on the shoulder while attempting to remove the husband from the house.
Now both were on their way to lockup, where they’d sleep off their stupor. Maybe the assaulting an officer charge against the husband and the battery charge against his wife would get them both to sober up.
Why couldn’t people just play nice?
Four blocks from home, Maggie’s cell phone rang. She peeked at the dashboard where the county lab’s phone number flashed. So close, yet so far.
Exhausted from the day, she contemplated—only for a split second—letting it go to voice mail. Can’t do it. She picked up the call. “This is Sheriff Kingston.”
“Hey, Sheriff. It’s Cole, from the lab.”
“Hi, Cole. I hope you have good news for me so late in the day.”
His silence told her the reverse. Dammit.
“Sorry, Sheriff. The DNA from that cigarette doesn’t match anyone in the system.”
Dagnabit. Longshot or not, she’d had hope. The fact that they’d even found it—a sign from the heavens for sure—convinced her they’d catch this guy. “Well, Cole, that wasn’t what I wanted to hear.”
“Wish I had better news for you.”
“Yeah. Me, too. Thanks for turning it around fast for me. I appreciate it.”
“Sure thing, Sheriff. Any time.”
Cole disconnected and Maggie filled the silence by letting out a grunt. “Well, that sucks.”
She’d have to come up with another angle on how to catch this guy. Maybe they’d go back to the video from Tupelo Hill. Pull everything Reid had from that entire day and see if they could spot the man or his vehicle. There had to be some other glimpses of him.
After making the left onto her street, the sight of a black Range Rover parked at the curb chipped away at her crabby mood.
Jay.
Back from New York and sending her heart pitter-pattering. When he’d left the night before, paranoia set in. Part of her imagined he’d step back into the glitz of the city, realize how much he missed its frenetic activity—along with polished, sexy women willing to let him call the shots—and she’d be forgotten. Tossed aside like the casual, killing time with, country girl.
What have I done?
She pulled into her driveway and there he was, sitting on the top step of her little porch, his back against the rail. Where his security was, she’d definitely like to know. The man had had two near misses in a week and he insisted on making himself an easy target. On her porch.
The suit he wore was a fairly solid indication that he’d probably come straight from the airport. His time in Steele Ridge, aside from business meetings, meant a wardrobe of jeans or track pants. The suit?
Couldn’t be good news.
Lord, the emotional upheaval surrounding this man might do her in. Stop. She had to quit projecting too far ahead. If Grif had found him a job, she’d be happy for him. At least outwardly. Inside? Not so much. But what right did she have to any opinions involving his career? Staying in Steele Ridge with her—not that they’d even discussed that—meant the loss of his dream.
And they were nowhere near her being part of that conversation.
Particularly when she understood the yearning that came with wanting more than Steele Ridge.
Ready to face whatever Jay had to tell her, she pushed open the car door, grabbed her tote, locked the cruiser, and headed straight for him, her eyes on his the whole way.
If he’d be leaving, she intended to make it a good night. A very good one.
He stood and as she drew closer, something in his eyes changed. His gaze moved over her, pausing briefly at her gun belt before snapping back to her face.
“Hey,” she said, keeping her tone light.
Being the clingy, desperate female would never be her style. No matter how much she’d like to beg him to stay.
But then he was moving, reaching her in two strides, wrapping one hand around the back of her neck, dragging her toward him. Totally manhandling her in a way she’d break anyone else’s kneecaps for.
But this?
Oh, yes. This, a girl could get used to.
Already feeling the charge that came with him, she crushed her lips against his while he plunged his tongue into her mouth. Were they really doing this on her front lawn?
You betcha.
She slipped her arms around him and pressed her fingers into the hard ridges of muscle. Her mind shorted. Her body, though, it knew exactly what it wanted. Him.
Right.
Now.
He brought his free hand around to her lower back, yanked her even closer so she’d feel the pressure of his extremely healthy erection. She wanted her hand there. Wrapped around him, guiding him inside her and—wowie, wow, wow—this was happening on the lawn.
My house, my lawn. So what if she was the sheriff? Sheriffs had needs, too. Sheriffs were entitled to hot, sweaty, toe-curling sex.
She broke away from the kiss, bit his bottom lip. “I need to touch you.”
He dipped his head to her neck, nipping at the skin there as his hands moved over her and landed on her ass. “I came straight from the airport. Couldn’t stop thinking about you all day.”
“Really now? And what were you thinking?”
He smiled. “It might have had something to do with you moaning when I moved a certain way. It’s a wicked loop in my head. I’m a walking hard-on.”
Filthy, filthy man. Totally killing her. “Oh, my God. Inside. Right now.”
“Jesus,” he said. “So bossy.”
“I know what I want. From the looks of you”—she pointed at his crotch—“so do you. But we’re not doing it in front of my house.”
She broke away and started for the house, fumbling with her keys. Searching for the one for the front door. Where is it?
Got it.
She jammed the key in the lock and kicked the door open. “And, where’s your security?”
“I told him to take the night off. Figured you’d be home and I wouldn’t need him.”
“So you sit on the porch and make yourself a target?”
He paused for a second while his head removed itself from his ass. “You’re right. That was careless. I should have made sure you were home.”
“Lesson learned. Even small towns can be dangerous.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She tossed her bag on the dr
um table, relocked the front door, kicked off her shoes, pulled off her socks, and headed down the hall, unbuttoning her shirt as she went. She peeled it off and tossed it over her shoulder with a laugh.
“Nice,” he said. “We may need to put a pole in your room.”
“Ha! Not happening.”
Her T-shirt went next, leaving her in only the lacy red bra Brynne had talked her into on their last trip to Asheville. She’d worn the bra once and then shoved it to the back of her drawer. For one, it was too expensive to wear every day. Two? Why wear a bra like that when she didn’t have a man to show it off to? It had never occurred to her that she should wear it for herself. To feel feminine and…sexy.
Except, this morning, something had changed and she’d dug the bra out and wore it. After the night of lovemaking with Jay, the walking around half-dressed and having him refuse to stop touching her, she felt…wanted.
“Damn, your body,” he said. “Leave the bra. I want to see that from the front.”
Inside her bedroom door, she spun back, let him see how her nipples poked at the sheer lace.
“You wore that under your uniform?”
“Today I did.” She grabbed his suit jacket, pulled him close. “It made me think about you seeing me in it. My little secret. If you’d been here, I’d have hunted you down and had my way with you.”
He flashed a smile. “I’m free all night.”
He pressed his thumbs against her nipples and her body, every nerve, responded with a zapping burst that lit her skin up.
She arched against him and gave him the moan he seemed to like.
“That’s it,” he said. “That sound. I love it.”
She loved it, too. And she sure as heck never moaned like that before.
But, God, his touch took her places, let her be Maggie, a single adult female with the same desires as every other sexual being.
With Jay, her hangups—and stress—melted away. For once, her mind settled and allowed her to relax—to finally let go—and…and…what? Experience it. That’s what this was. Maggie Kingston finally giving in to the ecstasy of making love.
The dreaded L word. Oh, Maggie. She couldn’t go there. Not yet. Not with this one and his career taking him heaven knew where. But he did something to her. Made her come alive in ways she’d never allowed. In ways a sheriff shouldn’t allow.
His hands moved to her gun belt, where he worked his big fingers over the buckle.
“Don’t let—
“—it drop. I know.”
Gently, he worked it free, then stepped around her and set it on the dresser. “Is it okay here?”
Maybe this was how it should be.
Trust. That he’d do the right thing. That he’d let her be herself and, for a little while, put her responsibilities aside.
“I’m done,” she said.
“Pardon?”
She reached up, yanked his jacket off his shoulders. “Get rid of these clothes. Now.”
He kicked off his shoes, tossed his jacket on the chair, and started on his shirt buttons while she wiggled out of her pants, revealing the matching red undies. “Beautiful,” he said, “but are we in a hurry?”
“We are. I’ve been walking around in this bra all day. It’s a little itchy, I might add. I’ve been waiting for you, Jayson. Right here. In Steele Ridge and part of me—” She stopped, held her breath because what was she doing?
Don’t. If she said it, he’d run for the door. He’d know this had gone too far, that her feelings had gone way—way—beyond a casual fling.
“Part of you what?”
Don’t. She met his gaze, that pretty blue she’d spend the rest of her life, long after he left, dreaming about. She swallowed, rested her forehead on his shoulder and let out a hard breath. “Part of me thought you weren’t coming back.”
The panic she’d anticipated never came. Instead, more relief calmed her quaking system. A conversation. That’s all this was. A moment to be honest. And vulnerable.
With a man.
She really had lost her mind.
He stepped back. Yep, here we go. But, hang on. He tucked his fingers under her chin, lifted her face to look at her with steady eyes. “I wouldn’t do that. Ever. Definitely not with you. I woke up this morning and all I wanted was you beside me. That’s never happened. That I want someone in my space like that. Everything with you feels…easy. Better. I don’t know what’ll happen when Grif finds me a job, but I want you in my life. It’s not easy, though. I don’t know if you want to take that on. It’s…”
She grabbed his cheeks, and loving the feel of his short beard against her palms, kissed him. Anything to shut him up. To keep him from ruining this exquisite moment by talking about road trips and long distances with women throwing themselves at him.
He took his shirt off while she slid his pants down his legs. He stepped out of the pants and she took his socks off. His T-shirt went next and there he was, all smooth, cut muscle of a professional athlete and the zing happened again. Simply gorgeous. He held up a condom and she reached for the waistband of his boxer briefs, dragging them down his legs.
“You’re all mine,” she said.
“I hope so.”
He did his thing with the condom while she moved the bra straps from her shoulders. “No,” he said. “Leave it. Please. I like it.”
From somewhere on the floor, his phone rang. If he answered it right now she’d hurt him. Ignoring it—good man—he moved behind her, kissing her shoulder, his lips trailing down her back and making her shiver as he guided her panties down her legs. God, the man. Every touch lit a fire.
“I’ve been thinking about this all day,” he said.
The bed. He wanted her bent over it so he could enter her from behind. Like they’d done their first night together. A control thing, she supposed. She hadn’t minded. It drove her to an orgasm she’d never experienced.
He nudged her forward, toward the bed and she braced her arms against the mattress before peeking over her shoulder. And smiling.
* * *
Jay entered her with a hard thrust that made them both gasp. He stopped moving and wrapped his arms around her from behind, skin against skin. “Did that hurt?”
“It felt good. Now get going. You’re ruining this for me.”
He laughed. Maggie. Unlike anyone he’d ever been with. Opinionated, aggressive, no-nonsense. Damn, he loved her.
He thrust again and she let out another gasp, this one followed by her moan that made him insane.
“That moan,” he said. “Every time I hear it, I want to slam myself into you.”
“Oh, Jay. Don’t stop. Please. I’ll…”
“You’ll what?”
“Just…don’t stop.”
She dipped her head, wrapped her long fingers around the bedspread and squeezed.
“Please…”
She moved with him, urging him on, faster and faster, and he closed his eyes as his own orgasm built. He gritted his teeth, determined to wait her out, let her go first, so he could feel her strong body go limp. For him. With him.
He opened his eyes, focused on her back and her smooth skin. Her ponytail. The woman he couldn’t get enough of.
He wanted her. Forever.
“Oh,” she said. “Don’t…”
She gasped again. A huge rush of air as her body went rigid and she threw her head back, finally crying out. Right there with her, he kept moving. Staying on that amazing edge. He hung on to her, pounded into her again and she turned her head, looking over her shoulder at him with a wide, satisfied smile that he’d put there. I’m gone.
The orgasm shredded him. Broke his body nearly in two. For a second, his knees gave way, his head spinning, and he tipped forward, bracing himself against her, holding on while the waning edge of the orgasm released him.
Maggie collapsed on the bed, separating them and pulling away all her heat. A fierce cold gripped him, reminding him he’d hated being away from her. She crawled toward the headb
oard and rested against one of the pillows before holding her arms out in an invitation he’d gladly take.
Then he was next to her, wrapping her in his arms and recapturing the warmth.
“Maggie?”
“Hmm?”
He kissed her head. “If we keep this up, you’ll never get rid of me.”
14
Jayson should be careful.
Extremely careful.
Never getting rid of him might be the first item on her to-do list. Her new to-do list, which included staying in this bed for as long as possible. She curled into him, ran one leg against his, and hooked it over him. “If we do keep this up, I’ll never let you out of this bed. How do you like that, hotshot?”
“If that’s a threat, it’s not working.”
In one quick move, he rolled her on top of him. She straddled his waist and—hello, friend—a growing erection pressed against her inner thigh.
He wanted her again. Already. Between the two of them and this insatiable sexual appetite, they might literally never leave her house.
She leaned over, kissed him lightly. “It’s a good thing I stocked up on groceries.”
He smiled up at her, all sharp, handsome angles and oh, this man.
“I never did eat dinner,” he said. “Food break? I’ll cook.”
A little sustenance for the night ahead wouldn’t hurt. Heh, heh, heh. “You’re on.”
She rolled to her feet, grabbed Jayson’s shirt from the chair. “I’m borrowing this.”
Really, if they were going to do this on a regular basis, she’d need a visit to Brynne’s shop for some silky bathrobes. Somehow her boxers and T-shirts didn’t seem appropriate.
“Be my guest. I like you in my clothes.” He shoved his legs into his pants and zipped them, leaving the button unfastened. They hung low on his lean hips and the urge to slam him down on the bed assailed her.
Tonight, he’s mine. Lucky, lucky, girl.
He dropped an arm over her shoulder, then kissed the top of her head, and his scent, something rich and woodsy and expensive, filled her. A man’s man all for her. These little luxuries, affection and companionship, seemed so easy with Jay. No awkward weirdness. Just…them. Two ornery people figuring each other out. “I can help with dinner. If you want.”
Craving Heat Page 19
