by Lora Leigh
If she had looked like a waif earlier, then it was because that was what she had always been, and that wasn’t how she wanted Archer to see her.
“This isn’t going to work—”
“You’re not leaving,” Archer spoke over her, his expression, his tone, suddenly more arrogant than before.
“Excuse me?” Crossing her arms over her breasts, she fought to push back the need for his touch and the arousal that look sent spearing through her traitorous body.
“You heard me, Anna.” Neither his expression nor his tone eased. “You’re not leaving. You can stay right here, where I’ll know you’re safe.”
Safe?
“From what?” Incredulity filled her. “Or do you think I need to be saved from my own poor choices just as my family does?”
He snorted at that. “I think leaving that house is the best decision you could have made.” His gaze became smoldering then, dark and intently sexual. “That doesn’t mean I’m going to let you spend the last penny you probably have on a hotel room, or that I’m going to let you forget what happened the night you nearly came on my fingers. I think I’m ready to collect on that promise now.”
She couldn’t breathe.
Anna felt her body heating instantly. Her breasts swelled, her nipples tightening and beginning to ache with the overwhelming need to be touched.
Her stomach clenched, her womb flexing as a surge of electric sensation raced through her clit.
“I don’t remember extending a rain check, Archer.” She stared back at the smoldering sensuality in his expression as though she had never seen it.
The truth was, that look of lust and hunger had her creaming her panties so furiously that it was all she could do to keep from throwing herself in his arms. To keep from begging him to finish what he started in that little grotto.
“Oh, baby, the rain check was there,” he countered. “In every drop of your response raining on my fingers—”
Her lips curled mockingly. “Every drop of my response?” She sniffed delicately, though her body ached in response to his words. “Does that line actually get you anywhere?”
Delight flickered in his gaze.
Oh, hell, what had she managed to ignite in his evil little brain?
He advanced on her, one predatory step at a time, as she fought to stand her ground—and failed miserably.
Anna felt her back flat against the refrigerator, his front pressing against hers, the hard wedge of his cock imprinting through their clothes to the aching depths of her womb.
Oh God, she needed to come.
“Actually, I was trying to be a good boy,” he murmured as he caught her wrists and stretched them over her head, securing them against the cool metal of the appliance with one hand.
The other pressed beneath her shirt, easing up until his palm cupped her breasts.
“You know how to be a good boy?” Anna widened her eyes in surprise. “Why, Archer, I’m certain I never recognized that quality in you.”
“I’m going to push my cock so deep inside that slick little pussy, Anna, that you’ll wonder how you ever breathed without the feel of me fucking you.”
Yep, there went her breath.
“But first.” His head lowered, his lips caressing the lobe of her ear as he spoke. “I’m going to spread those pretty thighs and eat you until you’re screaming with pleasure. Until you’re coming on my tongue and begging for my dick.”
“My, how confident we have become.” It was all she could do to push the words past her lips. “Were you going to do that before or after I put your balls up in your throat?”
She’d managed to slide her knee between his legs, lifting it until it rested against his balls.
He didn’t release her.
He grinned.
A slow, anticipatory grin that should have warned her.
Before she realized what he was doing he shifted, lifted her, edged his hips to the side and, before she could do more than take a breath, had her thighs at his hips and his erection grinding the seam of her jeans into her clitoris.
Oh, hell, it felt good.
The heat of him seemed to surround her.
The heat of his cock speared through the clothes separating them, causing her clit to swell further, to ache in need as her juices flowed from her vagina.
“Now, where are my balls going to be?” His voice caressed her senses, the hoarse, hungry timbre of it stroking against her senses.
“Shouldn’t you know?” She couldn’t stop the grin that tugged at her lips. “They are your balls, after all.”
His chuckle was one of amused surprise.
“So they are,” he murmured, his thumb stroking against the tight hardness of her nipple and sending waves of electric sensation surging to the sensitive bud of her clit. “I’d say before the day is over they’ll be pressed against the entrance of that snug little pussy as it tightens and milks my cock with your release.”
The tender bundle of nerves clenched and ached with painful pleasure. The need throbbing through it was a hunger she had no idea how to process.
The explicit earthiness of his words sent heat flashing through her, weakening any objections she might have pretended to have and leaving her weak against him.
“You’re all talk,” she said, panting as his fingers flicked open the buttons to her top. “You’ve been promising to teach me not to tease full-grown men since I was eighteen. I have yet to figure out why.”
Her thighs tightened at his hips, her hips rubbing against him, grinding against the thickness of his erection as it pressed tight and hard between her thighs.
“Oh, baby, I absolutely intend to show you exactly why pretty little girls such as yourself should never play games with full-grown men.”
The fingers of one hand tangled in her hair, tugging her head back as a gasp parted her lips. His lips covered hers, the wicked, heated stroke of his tongue licking against hers, pulling her into a surplus of pure sensory overload.
Her fingers fluttered against the breadth of his hard chest as he released her hands. She ached to touch him, to find some way to delve beneath his shirt to the heated skin beneath.
She had to touch him. She had to feel his flesh against hers, to stroke and caress his hard body. This was her fantasy. The need for it tormented her dreams with almost nightly consistency. She couldn’t escape it. She didn’t want to escape it.
She pushed past the material between the top two buttons to find the coarse hair-covered flesh beneath.
Heat met her touch.
The feel of his heart beating, thundering beneath her fingers, easily matching the beat of her own as his fingers found the latch of her bra between her breasts and flicked it loose.
Releasing her lips with a groan he pulled back, his head lifting, staring down at her as she felt the buttons of her light summer blouse being released.
The experience and sheer confidence in his touch wasn’t lost on her. Just as her own inexperience wasn’t lost on her.
Would he be surprised to learn she was a virgin?
Would he be pleased to learn she was a virgin?
“Release my shirt, Anna,” he growled as he pushed the shoulders of her blouse and the slim straps of her bra over her shoulders. The tug of the material pulled her arms down until he could pull it free of her and send the clothing fluttering to the floor. “Come on, baby, show me what you want.”
What she wanted?
All of him.
Lips parted, fighting to draw in breath as he brought her hands to the buttons of his shirt.
She fumbled with the first.
As certain as she had been that she could slip each rounded disc through its hole, she found herself fumbling.
An aching moan left her throat as his head began lowering, his hands cupping her breasts, lifting them.
“How fucking pretty,” he rasped, the wild, predatory color of his gaze lifting to hers, gleaming with hunger through the heavy veil of thick lashes. “I’ve dreame
d of tasting your nipples, Anna. Of sucking on them until that soft, soft pink turns a pretty raspberry.”
“Archer—”
How was she supposed to unbutton his shirt when he—
“Oh God, Archer.”
His tongue licked over the hard tip of her nipple.
Flaming sensation washed through her body as pleasure surged like a rogue wave through her senses.
As she tried to catch her breath, to right her senses, his lips were surrounding it, his mouth covering the tight nipple and sending shafts of fiery pleasure surging straight to her clit.
Moving her hips, grinding her clit on the hard shaft pressing into it, nothing mattered but finding relief now. The pleasure was torturous. It tore through her, blazing a path of such indescribable sensation through her body that she forgot about getting his shirt off.
Head thrown back against the fridge, little moans of pleasure rising unbidden from her lips, Anna slid her fingers beneath the collar of his shirt as she flexed her nails against his flesh. Eyes closed, surrounded with lush, fiery sensation, pleasure clenched her womb with desperate contractions.
She needed.
Oh God, she needed so much more.
The feel of his mouth drawing on the violently sensitive nipple was excruciating pleasure. The rasp of his tongue as he tasted it, the rake of his teeth against it as he teased and tormented it, was like lashing whips of sizzling pleasure-pain.
Each suckling motion, each incredibly heated draw of his mouth had the need, the lashing flares of desperation rising, striking at her clit, tightening her womb with increased force.
“Fuck, baby,” the harsh growl came as his lips lifted from the needy flesh and his fingers slid to the rounded curves of her rear. “Come on, we’re not doing this here.”
As he moved to turn, her knees still gripping his hips, the radio at his hip began issuing rising static before the dispatcher came over the connection.
As she listened, Anna’s lips parted; the code, despite having given no information a layman could have deciphered, wasn’t hard for her to understand.
After hanging around Archer and his father for years, she had picked up enough to be able to follow the code.
Deputy Caine had found a victim’s vehicle, and the only one she knew of missing was the one belonging to Katy Winslow.
Drawing back, Archer pulled the radio slowly from the holster at his hip, his gaze still locked on hers.
“Sheriff Tobias en route,” he answered. “Inform Deputy Caine to remain on location.”
“Ten-four, Sheriff Tobias, will appraise Deputy Caine of status,” the dispatcher said as Archer moved back, allowing her legs to slide from his hips and hold her own weight.
The loss of his touch, of the warmth and pleasure she’d experienced in his arms, was a sensation she could only describe as painful.
“Don’t you leave,” he warned, the dark rasp on his tone, the dominant command in it sending a shiver racing up her spine.
“I’ll think about it.” Shrugging in apparent unconcern, she stared back at him as though she were going to do whatever the hell she wanted to do.
The sad fact was, she wanted to stay. She wanted to stay so much it was a hunger inside her. A hunger that burned inside her with a flame she knew she wouldn’t be able to deny.
“Yeah, you do that,” he growled as he snagged his hat from where he’d tossed it to the kitchen table and jammed it on his head. “And when you’re done thinking about it, I’ll be back.” He paused before turning away. “And you damned well better be here.”
Drawing in a deep breath she watched as he turned and stalked from the kitchen before moving quickly through the wide foyer and out the front door.
He slammed the door closed, but took the time to stop and lock the deadbolt.
Anna’s lips quirked before her fingers lifted to the swollen curves, a sensation of weakness flooding her womb and vagina at the memory of how they’d become swollen.
It was only then she realized she was still naked from the waist up. Her shirt and bra on the floor—
At least, they had been on the floor.
Looking around, her lips tightened to hold back her grin as she propped her hands on her hips and pretended to glare at the monster cat on the other side of the room.
He was lying on her shirt, the lace-trimmed strap of her bra hooked around his neck.
“Go ahead and keep it,” she murmured to the cat as though unconcerned. “Your owner can just buy me a new one.”
Hefting her bags to her shoulder she turned, found the staircase and headed up it quickly.
Of course, she was staying. At least, for now.
Just to see what happened.
Just to see if there was any chance of stealing Sheriff Archer Tobias’ heart.
CHAPTER 4
It was Katy Winslow’s car.
The little twelve-year-old sedan had been sent over Callahan’s Peak, the sheer drop the Callahan grandparents and parents had gone over.
There was a message here, Archer could feel it as he drove the SUV down the rough track that led to the rocky valley below.
Katy’s car was a burned-out wreck. At the base of the cliff it still smoldered sullenly, giving a gloomy cast to the late afternoon sun.
Pulling his vehicle alongside Deputy Caine’s, Archer leveled a low, considering look at the other man.
John Caine had arrived in Corbin County just before the Callahans had returned. Just before the murdering duo dubbed the Slasher had struck for the first time in twelve years.
The deputy had found that first body and each one after that. He’d been the one to find each piece of evidence and uncover each clue. He was on Archer’s short list of suspects.
As Archer watched him, the deputy tipped his hat back on his head and stared back at him.
Stepping from the Tahoe, Archer moved across the distance to the little sedan and stared at the burned-out remains. Propping his hands on his hips he blew out a hard breath.
“Why?” he murmured as the acrid scent of the vehicle burning surrounded his senses.
“Why crash it here?” the deputy asked. “It’s connected to the Callahans obviously, just as her murder was,” he answered the question building in Archer’s mind.
It was the obvious answer.
“This is out of character,” Archer stated.
“Or the vehicle held prints or other evidence the Slasher doesn’t want found. What better way, in an amateur’s mind, to hide that evidence than to burn it.”
Not exactly what Archer expected from him.
Crossing his arms over his chest and rubbing at his jaw thoughtfully, he slid a look to his deputy once again. “Did you contact Callum?”
“He’s twenty minutes away.” The deputy nodded.
Archer glanced at him again, seeing the practiced expression of emotionlessness. He hated that fucking look on any man’s face. It made him instantly suspicious, instantly curious as to what he was hiding.
“What did she do to deserve his attention?” Archer murmured thoughtfully as he continued to stare at the smoldering car. “She wasn’t sleeping with a Callahan. She hadn’t slept with one in the past and she wasn’t helping them in any way. Like many of the women in town, she kept a very careful distance.”
“Then she saw something she wasn’t supposed to see?” the deputy asked. “That’s the only thing that makes sense, isn’t it?”
“It’s the only thing that makes sense now,” Archer breathed out roughly. “But what? Or who?”
The deputy shook his head slowly as he crossed his arms over his chest before lifting a hand to rub at the side of his face. “The Callahans and their properties are the objective, though,” he murmured then.
“The objective in what?” It was a question neither Archer nor his father had been able to answer. “What makes it so damned important that one or more has cut a swath of blood through this County?”
The deputy gave a hard, sarcastic grunt.
“Master of gossip, rumor, and shady deals, huh?” Archer murmured as he glanced at the deputy once again.
Caine grinned with cool mockery. “We all have our talents, Sheriff, we all have our talents.”
Archer wondered if those talents could have led to murder.
Maybe someone else had those answers, though.
As the deputy walked away, Archer made a call.
“Hello?” John Corbin answered on the first ring.
“I want answers, John.” Archer stared around the canyon, the bleak stone walls, the hint of a pine struggling to anchor to a soft ledge above.
“Archer…”
“I said, I fucking want answers,” he snapped. “You’ll be at my place before dawn, or I’ll be there. You hearing me?”
Silence filled the line for long moments.
“I hear you.”
The line disconnected.
*
Anna awoke to the most incredible sensation.
It wasn’t sensual, hot, or filled with lust or sexual hunger. It wasn’t sensual or sexual at all.
It was like the softest silk—no, softer than silk. It was the softest touch rubbing against her shoulder, slow and easy, caressing down her arm. It was warm, comforting. It was a sensation of living warmth, accepting and vibrating—
A frown tugged at her brow, drawing her further from sleep.
It was vibrating against her shoulder.
No, it was purring.
Forcing her lashes to open she turned her head to stare into the slitted golden eyes that peered at her as Oscar rubbed the side of his face against the curve of her shoulder.
A peek at the clock on the living room wall assured her it was well after two in the morning. Archer had been gone all day and now most of the night.
A plaintive meow rumbled from the cat’s throat as he rubbed against her shoulder again.
“What do you want?” she mumbled. “Can’t believe you’re harassing me after stealing my bra and shirt. Those were damned expensive, you know.”
A rumble between a purr and a meow sounded again as Oscar stared back at her with such arrogant command that she couldn’t help but think of Archer.