With a growl, he yanked himself away and pulled her to her feet. “Facedown on the table,” he commanded, and he bent her over until her tits and the side of her face was pressed flat against the whitewashed wood. “Hands behind your back.”
He went through practiced motions, pulling her wrists together and holding them firmly at the small of her back while he used his legs and feet to spread hers wider. If he hadn’t completely lost his mind, this would be the time to admit who he was and cuff her while simultaneously frisking her. But there was no place on her almost-naked body to conceal any weapons, unless she had something dangerous buried in her pussy. Something he was highly inclined to investigate.
Two distinctly different parts of his personality went to war, fighting for the right to dominate the situation. The bounty hunter had Lydia right where he wanted her, and all he needed to do was finish restraining her while informing her of his identity and authorization to take her back to Colorado. The horny-as-hell, deviant male in him also had Lydia right where he wanted her, however. And all he needed to do was give in to what she was so fucking hot for that he couldn’t stand it. He couldn’t have both. At least, he didn’t think so. Thinking wasn’t going so well for him at the moment.
A mantra was playing in his head to the tune of handcuffs-handcuffs-handcuffs, but for the life of him, he couldn’t figure out which of the two warring factions wanted her restrained more.
She wiggled her ass, which was nicely spread for him given the position of her parted thighs, and she let out a sexy moan. “Please tell me you stashed about a hundred condoms in that bag of yours.”
His cock jumped in response. Fuck. What a naughty vixen, weakening his resolve.
Nate shoved her wrists together higher on her back, holding them tightly in one hand while he reared back with the other.
“First things first,” he said, and he brought his palm down across that soft, tight ass.
She let out a squeal and wriggled harder. “What was that for?”
“I believe the birthday girl needs a good spanking.”
“Oh yes,” she said, and his hand lashed out again.
“Have you been good this year, Lydia?” he asked in a mocking tone. “Or am I right in suspecting you’ve been very, very bad?”
“No, I’m good,” she cooed.
“Bullshit.” He swatted her again.
“You don’t think I can be very good?”
“No, I don’t.” The slapping sound was louder this time, and she cried out. A hot flush of pink spread over her butt cheeks when he delivered the next blow. “I think you’ve been incredibly bad,” he said. “You were on your knees for me, sucking my cock before I could even do the job I came here for.”
“I’m sorry,” she said, not sounding the least bit convincing. “I’m sorry I didn’t let you do your job.”
Fuck no, she hadn’t.
“To be honest, I’m not exactly sure what to do about that right now,” he said.
“You should take pity on a girl who’s all alone on her birthday with a wet, throbbing pussy. You should fuck her right on this table.”
As soon as she said it, he knew that was exactly what he was going to do. And that he was going to regret the hell out of it when he was finished. Too bad he didn’t give a damn.
“Please, Antoine,” she said, sticking her ass out toward him. “If you don’t believe how wet I am, see for yourself.”
God, he wanted to check with every one of his fingers, followed by his tongue. But his balls were so heavy and aching for him to take her that he couldn’t wait.
“I’m not going to touch your pussy with anything except my cock,” he said. “Right now.”
He let her go and she flipped over, scooting her ass up onto the dining table. He didn’t need to finger-fuck her to know she was soaked. He could see the dark, wet stain on her bikini bottoms.
“Take those off,” he ordered.
Two tugs on the hip strings eliminated the last bit of clothing on her incredible body. Her pussy hair was trimmed close, and the triangle over her pubic bone had been shaved into a narrow rectangle. He was rethinking his decision not to stick his face between her thighs when she propped herself on her elbows and gazed at his red cock.
“Oh my God,” she said in awe. “What kind of condoms did you bring? Any ribbed ones?”
Condoms? Yeah. Apparently, Lydia believed male strippers were required to keep a ready supply, and from what Nate had read, she was probably right. A little detail he hadn’t considered and wouldn’t have figured was necessary even if he had.
He dug into his wallet for the two foil packages he kept there, and he took a quick look to make sure they weren’t past the expiration date. He ripped one open with his teeth and started rolling it on.
She watched him with a curious expression. “You seem a little out of practice with that for a stripper.”
He got the damn thing on despite his general impatience and somewhat quivering hands. Then he pushed himself between her legs. “I’m new to the job.”
Lydia grabbed hold of his sheathed dick and put it right where he’d been dying to stick it. “Hopefully you’re not new to fucking.”
He pushed himself inside with one long, hard thrust, and he grunted like a damn animal when he did it. She gasped and tipped her head back. “Jesus, I guess you’re not new to that. Not at all.”
Nate grabbed her hips and plunged into her again, reveling in her tight, slick fit. She took hold of his shirt, and this time, she yanked the front of it hard enough to send three buttons flying.
“I can pay for that,” she said breathlessly.
He’d pay for this too. Later. His mouth quirked upward. “It’s deductible.”
Grabbing his tie, she pulled him toward her and kissed him hard. He caught the strong tang of alcohol on her, along with the heady, sweet taste of willing, aroused female. He gave her his tongue, exploring her mouth while he fucked her. She held on to his tie with one hand while the other slipped inside his shirt, and her nails dragging across his chest drove a hoarse moan from his lips.
Aside from the ruined half of his white shirt and the pants around his ankles, he was fucking a naked woman while still completely dressed himself. He hadn’t even managed to get his jacket off. That was a first, one of several for the day.
Breaking off the kiss, he let go of her hips and tugged her hair back, exposing her long, slender throat. He ran his tongue down the length of it and found one of her breasts, flicking the hard, long nipple with his tongue and then biting down gently.
“Oh God, Antoine,” she cried loudly. “Harder. Bite me. Fuck me.”
She was such a wild bitch, bucking her hips like a crazed woman while she used his tie to hold him in place against her tits. He took her ass in both hands and lifted her right off the table, pegging her as deep as his cock would go. She grabbed his shoulders and hung on desperately for the ride, her breast jiggling in his mouth while her whimpers and moans grew louder and more fevered.
“Lay me down,” she said in a broken whisper. “Fuck me on the table.”
He did as she asked, pounding into her while her tits bounced violently and her hair hung over the far edge of the table. He could see her fantastic body much better this way anyway, and the incredibly erotic expression on her face while her head rolled back and forth turned his temporary madness into full-blown insanity.
She bit her lip and arched suddenly, and her legs wrapped tight around his back.
“I’m coming,” she called out, a wholly unnecessary declaration in light of the scream that followed.
Her orgasm happened just in time, because condom or not, the sensations she aroused in him proved too much to handle. He tossed his head back while he growled out his climax, digging his fingers into her creamy thighs while he spent his cum inside the rubber. Her pussy walls contracted around him relentlessly, milking out more spasms of ecstasy until he couldn’t shoot off another drop. And that was that.
Nate ha
d done it. He’d fucked a woman he was sworn to bring to jail. That fact floated somewhere up above his orgasm, although he wasn’t quite ready to face it yet.
He pulled out of her, but before he could back away, she sat up and put her arms around him. “Thank you,” she said, pressing her face to his chest. “You have no idea how bad I needed that.”
He stood there blinking with her clutched to him. “Actually, I think I have a pretty fair idea.”
“No, you don’t. You can’t.”
Now she sounded as if she was pleading, almost distraught. When she pulled her head back to look at him, he was surprised to see his dirty little vixen had tears in her eyes.
“It’s been such a bad year,” she said while he gaped at her. “All I wanted was to do the right thing. But my boss did something really terrible. What I mean to say is, it was so nice to lose myself for a few minutes. Thanks for that.”
The bounty hunter returned at that moment, delivering a swift mental kick to the groin that doused the aftermath of incredible sex. Whatever look was on his face must have registered high on Lydia’s shit-o-meter, because her eyes widened in horror and she slid off the table.
“Wow, I am so sorry,” she said in a rush while she picked up the bottom to her bathing suit and tied the strings back together. “I know sex is just a fun job perk to you, and that’s fine. Really. Please don’t think I’m one of those needy chicks.” She put the bikini bottoms back on and sniffed. “That’s what I get for hitting the good booze. Shit, I hope I didn’t freak you out.”
Oh, he was well past freaked out and onto wondering which circle of hell he would land in for screwing a captive before she even realized she’d been caught. Probably just one level higher than fucking her after she knew she’d been caught.
“It’s okay,” he managed.
He pulled off the spent condom and headed for the adjacent kitchen to find a paper towel. Lydia kept up her nervous babble.
“I understand if you want to go,” she said, looking around the floor and finally heading over to snatch up the rest of her swimsuit. “You certainly performed above and beyond the call of duty.”
He swallowed. Wasn’t that the ironic truth?
When he returned from tossing the condom, he found her tying the rest of her bikini on and adjusting her breasts until they sat in the cups to her apparent satisfaction.
She sighed loudly. “But I wish you’d stay a little while. God, I can’t believe I cried after the best fuck I’ve had in ages.” She shook her head. “I’m so embarrassed. Please let me make it up to you with a drink. My way of saying sorry I made a complete ass of myself.”
That made two of them. One drink wouldn’t be nearly enough. At this point, he was ready to guzzle the whole damn bottle.
“Don’t worry it about it,” he managed.
“Does that mean you’ll stay?” she asked.
He nodded numbly. “I’m not going anywhere.” Not without her.
Her smile set something loose in his chest. “Good. Help yourself to that drink if you want. I have to run to the bathroom.”
Nate considered coming out with the truth right then, but he stopped himself. She might as well pee now. They had a long drive ahead of them.
In his career, it was pretty much a given that the people he encountered weren’t exactly grateful to him for hauling them back to jail, but a whole new level of fuck-you dynamics was about to play out. He swallowed while he watched her flounce toward the hallway. She stopped there and turned. “By the way, I’d love to see the actual job you came here to do, if you want to show me when I get back.”
He pasted on a smile and took a moment to study her face as it looked right then. She wore the glow of a woman who had just been fucked hard and happily. It was an expression he wouldn’t see from her again. And considering he’d broken Rule One in a whole new and perverted sense, he wouldn’t be seeing it from anyone else. Not for a while. He deserved punishment.
She pointed to his torn shirt and skewed tie. “I hope you don’t mind my saying so, but while you’re twelve kinds of fucking hot as hell, a guy in a business suit wouldn’t have been my first choice for a fantasy striptease. Not anymore. So if you have a different routine in your bag of tricks, bring it on.” She snorted and disappeared through a door at the edge of the hallway.
Nate dragged a hand through his hair and let out a sigh. The ironic turn in conversation would have been damn funny if he hadn’t just stuffed his tool in the wrong box. Even while he was busy berating himself, however, part of his brain was busy registering the fact that she’d called him “twelve kinds of fucking hot as hell”.
“Right back at you,” he muttered.
Once the door closed behind her, the bounty hunter set to work. He slipped over to the bathroom door to listen and make sure the bathroom story wasn’t some ruse so she could grab a gun or escape a third-story bathroom window. He heard the toilet lid lift and the sound of peeing.
The single bedroom was visible from here, as was the double bed. The bedding was short enough to see clearly underneath, and he bent down to make sure no one was hiding there. Probably something he should have done before fucking the hell out of a woman with his back turned to the hallway, but should-have-dones were piling up in a long list.
He slipped inside a room that was sparsely furnished in a psychedelic orange-and-green color scheme.
“Groovy,” he whispered.
There was a small closet with a closed door, which didn’t make him happy. How many times had he dragged jumpers or their housemates out of a closet?
Grabbing a letter opener from the top of a bright-green dresser, he moved in utter silence across the room and then yanked open the closet door. It was almost empty and devoid of any hidden suspects.
He heard the toilet flush just as he was tiptoeing back up the hall. He shucked his jacket, shirt and tie on the way and traded them for a black t-shirt he pulled from the duffel bag. He took out his badge, which was hanging from a beaded chain, and put it around his neck. Then he managed to extract the handcuffs that should have come out instead of his cock. He was twirling them around his finger when she finally emerged from the bathroom.
Lydia’s hair had been pulled up into a high ponytail, and from the length of time he’d heard the sink running, he’d be willing to wager she’d brushed her teeth as well.
She stopped and cocked her head at the change in his attire. “I’d say it’s a definite costume improvement, but I’m not entirely sure what you’re supposed to be now.”
He stopped spinning the handcuffs. “Come over here and find out.”
She wandered closer and eyed him up and down. His body tingled on high alert while she came toward him. The front door was on her left and the fire escape on her right. If she tried to run now, she’d most likely turn tail and head back down the hallway, right into a dead end. Which was why he had chosen this exact spot.
He counted until she was four steps away, then three. “I’m a surety agent.”
Confusion crossed her features. “What the heck is that?”
“You know, a bounty hunter.”
Her eyes actually lit up eagerly at this news. Another first. “Ooh, I think I like the sound of that.”
“I’m glad to hear it.” He stepped closer and held out the badge hanging over his chest. “Turn around and get on your knees. Hands on the back of your head.”
Her eyebrows lifted, but not only did she obey, she did it with a smile on her beautiful face. Holy shit, maybe he was onto something with this ploy. Not that he would be hunting down any more jumpers after this. Figures he’d get the perfect angle just in time for the last job.
“Aren’t you going to play some music or something for this routine?” she asked.
His day had gotten so damn weird.
He went into restraining maneuvers, guiding her facedown easy while he put a knee to her back. When he was cuffing one of the wrists that were still on top of her head, that’s when she finally got squ
irrely about the whole thing.
“Wait,” she said, struggling against him. “You know what? Stop. I don’t actually want to get handcuffed. I have bad memories of that.”
“I’ll bet you do.” He pulled the cuffed hand down behind her back and brought the other one around to join it.
“Don’t! I mean it, Antoine. Stop.”
“I thought you were so eager to see the job I came here to do?” He held the badge in front of her face. “And my name’s Nate, actually. I’m a real bounty hunter. And you, Lydia Franklin, are under arrest for violating the terms of your bail.”
She was struggling wildly now, but with her hands cuffed behind her and his weight on her back, there wasn’t much she could do. “Like hell! What are you talking about?”
“You failed to appear in court. I’m authorized to bring you back to Colorado.”
“No. No! You bastard.”
There was the reaction he knew was coming. The one he dealt with every time it came to this moment in his job.
“This can’t be true,” she went on, trying to buck him off her. “Valerie hired you to strip for me. She told me so. She wouldn’t do this to me.”
He growled and leaned on her harder. “Stop fighting me, or I’ll have to put you in a hold you definitely won’t like.”
“Fuck you,” she said. “Get the hell off me, you sick freak. You’re lying about this.”
“I have the paperwork from your bondsman if you need proof. It includes a clause you signed stating you were aware he could use any means necessary to reclaim you. Any means, Ms. Franklin. And that’s just what I did.”
When she started fighting harder, he jammed her cuffed hands high on her back.
“Ouch!” She followed that with several expletives. “You’re breaking my arms!”
“Settle the fuck down or you’re going to get hurt. Don’t be stupid, Lydia. Cooperate nicely and you won’t add any more charges to the ones you’ve already got stacked against you.”
“Cooperate? What, I suppose you mean let you fuck me again? You told me you were a stripper! You had sex with me. Isn’t that illegal?”
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