The Louisiana Liaisons Series Box Set

by Chance, Lynda

  His agreement startled her enough to question him. “Why do you do that? Friday night? Why do you think you can tell people that I belong to you, and then turn around and let some woman think that you might spend a different night with her? “

  Her accusation disconcerted him. “I didn’t do that. I was just trying to brush her off so I could deal with the asshole trying to dick you. That’s all I was doing after I saw you come back from the bathroom. That mother fucker was watching you when you went in my office. He was watching you when you came out. I was about to get up and go to you then when Darlene came to the table. I feel sorry for her, Jenny. She’s had a rough couple of years. Her husband ran off with her best friend. She lost her job. I feel bad for her, Jenny. But I sure as shit don’t want to sleep with her. “

  She listened to his explanation. It was the truth as he saw it. It satisfied her anger about the other woman. She leaned in and kissed him gently on the mouth. He reached up and took her face between his hands and pressed easy, nonthreatening kisses on her lips. “I’m sorry if I was rough with you before you left. I don’t want to hurt you. I didn’t hurt you, did I? “

  “No. I’m okay. ” She ran her fingers through his hair and kissed him back. After another few minutes of soft kisses, she broke her mouth away and looked at him. “Why do you think you can tell people that I belong to you? “

  “Because you do. “

  “No, I don’t. ” Her voice was even.

  “Yes, you do. You’re mine. You belong to me. Mine. ” His words started calm, but ended harsh.

  “There hasn’t been anything said about me belonging— “

  “Okay, fine. I’m saying it now. I want you. You belong to me. Why do you keep disputing this? We sleep together. Are you sleeping with someone else? Do you want me to sleep with someone else? ” His voice was getting punishing, belligerent. His hands went to the top button on her shirt and started opening it. She grabbed his hands to stop him.

  “No, I’m not sleeping with anyone. And no, you can’t either. Stop that. Why do you start taking my clothes off every time you think you aren’t getting your way?” she yelled at him.

  “Because just the thought of you with somebody else pisses me off. And when I get pissed off about it, the only thing that calms me down is getting it in you. ” His nostrils flared, but his hands stilled.

  “Okay, Richard. I’m yours. But you’re mine, too. It’s got to go both ways. “

  “Deal. But I’m warning you right now. I don’t share. I’ve never been jealous before but with you it’s driving me crazy. “

  An arrow of joy went through her at his words. “Okay. I’m not going to give you a reason to be jealous. But you’ve got to give me about two minutes to turn down an offer before you come barreling to my rescue. ” Her tone was mild.

  “Two minutes. That’s it. And we might as well get this settled now, also. I want you to pack your stuff up and move in with me. This is ridiculous us going back and forth like this. I’ve got more room at my house, you can have your own office. ” His words were a statement.

  Shock went through her. “No, I don’t think I can do that. That would be long-term and—”

  “Hell, yes, it’s going to be long-term. You might as well sell the house; you’re not going to need it. “

  The impact of what he was suggesting jarred her. “No. I can’t sell the house. This is my home. This is the boy’s home— “

  “The boys live in Houston. “

  “They come home for the summer. For Christmas— “

  “They can come to my house. I like kids. You love my kitchen. It’s your kitchen. You’d like that, hmm, sweetheart? ” His voice turned soft, cajoling. His lips went to her ear and his hands undid the second button on her shirt.

  “Richard, stop. We have to talk about this. I can’t believe you’re trying to bribe me with your kitchen. I can’t sell my house and move because I love your kitchen. “

  “No, you sell your house and move because you love me. ” His words engendered panic within her. She couldn’t love him. He couldn’t know she loved him. Apprehension and excitement raced through her. She looked into his eyes. He watched her take in what he said as he unbuttoned her third button.

  Her excitement turned to panic. “I can’t love you. You’re a mobster. “

  “I’m a what? ” He shouted the question at her.

  “Well, aren’t you? Don’t you make all that money doing stuff that you shouldn’t be doing?”

  “Stuff like what? “

  “Illegal stuff. “

  “I don’t do anything illegal at all. I don’t take stupid chances with my money. “

  “You don’t do anything illegal? What do you do? ” Her fingers went to the collar of his shirt and started smoothing it.

  “You promise you won’t go all moral on me and run? ” His voice was hard.

  She nodded her head. “I’m listening. “

  “I’m only going to say this once. I’m not going to apologize for any of it. This is Louisiana, babe. I have licenses for everything I do here. And in Louisiana, you can do a lot. You already know I have a liquor license for the bar. But I have a casino license, as well. It’s a private operation, and I run it out of the back of the bar. It’s high stakes gambling, and I do pretty well with it. ” He raised his fingers to the baby-fine hair at her temple. “I can’t believe you haven’t been noticing what’s going on. ” He watched her looking so earnestly at him. “Scratch that. I can believe it. You’re so damn innocent, you thought you were in a restaurant that first night. Jesus, babe. ” His ran his fingers through her curls and continued. “I also have twenty game rooms across the state. All near the Texas border. I get the tourists who can’t or won’t gamble illegally there. I’ve got fifty eight-liners in each joint. You’re smart. You do the math, babe. I’ve got a few other investments here and there, all legal. But that’s the gist of it. “

  She listened to his speech with equal parts relief and alarm. “You’re rich. “

  “I don’t know about rich. But I can guarantee you that we won’t need to use your debit card anytime soon. ” He lifted her face for a kiss. She stopped him with another question.

  “What about that guy you had beat up the first night we met? ” Her voice was apprehensive.

  “Jesus Christ, Jenny. What kind of shit has been going through that head of yours? ” He laughed.

  “You said on the phone that you had given him all the chances you were going to. “

  “I fired a guy, babe. He had been stealing from one of the game rooms. ” He kissed her temple and grinned. “Will you just ask me this stuff when you think of it instead of stewing over it? “

  “Yes. I will. I promise. ” The relief she felt was palpable. The realization that she could let herself love him was such a good feeling. She reached up and kissed him, long and tenderly. He kissed her back.

  She rose up on her knees and straddled him. She began unbuttoning his shirt. He returned the favor. He looked at the row of buttons he was undoing. “Is this my shirt? “

  “Yes. You left it here the other night. ” She reached down and undid his fly. He helped her adjust their clothing.

  “You look good in it. ” He lifted her breast to his mouth. Lightning speared through her. She moaned. “Come sit down right here, babe. ” He whispered at the same time he lifted her over him. She came down over him in one smooth movement. They groaned simultaneously.

  She started rocking on him. Their mouths melded and he thrust his tongue inside. He reached up and kissed her temple. “Tell me now, babe. ” He put his hands on her hips and helped her move.

  “I’m yours. ” Her words were soft.

  “Yes. You’re mine. Tell me. Say it. ” He demanded.

  “I belong to you. ” She felt her inside muscles grasping him, holding him.

  “Tell me, Jenny. ” He jerked her hips up and down with the rhythm she set.

  “I love you, Richard. ” At her words, his body cle
nched and he hurdled over the edge to paradise. She thrust on him twice more and followed him over.

  They held each other in silence for several moments. Then he lifted her face and gazed into her eyes. “I love you, too, Jenny. ” The words were simple. The meaning was wonderful.

  Six weeks later, Jenny heard his big car pull into the garage. She loved this time of day the best. He always came in, and walked straight to her. He grabbed her and held her every night. He whispered three things. “I love you. I need you. You belong to me. ” And every night the meaning of the words became deeper and stronger than the night before.

  These six weeks had been amazing. She had sold her house, and moved in with him. They had travelled to Houston together so he could meet the boys. It went better than she could ever have anticipated. And just last weekend, the boys had come here to visit. They loved the house, and she could tell they were happy that she was so content.

  Her world was sheer bliss.

  She heard his steps in the hall. Her eyes followed him as he walked across the room to her. He reached for her and wrapped her in his arms. “Jenny, I love you. I need you. You belong to me. ” Her heart melted and she smiled into his eyes. “And I want you to wear this. “She watched in amazement as he lifted her left hand and slid a huge diamond solitaire on her finger. He lifted her face for his kiss.

  She kissed him back and wrapped her arms around him.

  “Jenny, say that you’ll marry me. ” His arms were tight and he held her safely.

  Happiness and love filled her. “Yes, of course I will.”

  Book Two

  Blackmailed Into Bed

  by

  Lynda Chance

  ***

  KINDLE EDITION

  ***

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, businesses, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, actual events or locales is purely coincidental.

  ***

  Blackmailed Into Bed

  Copyright © 2011 by Lynda Chance

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author or publisher except for the use of brief quotations in critical articles or reviews. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  ***

  Dedication

  To Clayton,

  My hero in real life.

  Chapter One

  Amy sat in her stalled car on the side of the busy interstate and tried not to panic. The big, black pick-up truck easing up behind her caused a sense of fear and relief at the same time. Her phone was dead, and she’d been sitting behind the wheel of her disabled vehicle for twenty minutes. It was going to be dark soon. She needed help, and she needed it now, before her situation became dangerous. Baton Rouge wasn’t exactly a hotbed of crime, but in a city this large, anything could, and often did, happen.

  Her nervousness increased as the truck stopped, but the man behind the wheel didn’t get out. She could see him talking on the phone in her rearview mirror. All she could make out was jet black hair and aviator style sunglasses.

  Oh, that black hair. Unbidden images of the man that haunted her fantasies every night came to her. The many times she touched that dark hair and tangled her fingers in it. Her hands gliding over the buttons of his uniform, and undoing them one by one. Intellectually, she knew that a man in uniform was just a cliché, but emotionally, she suspected that there was a lot more to it than that. That cop, in his uniform, had the power to make her hands tremble and her legs shake.

  In reality, she hadn’t exchanged more than a few simple pleasantries with the D.A.R.E. policeman that came to her school and talked to her fifth graders every week. It was best that she kept the interaction between them to a minimum. Past events that formed who she was, wouldn’t allow a man in law enforcement into her life.

  But the temptation. Oh, the temptation. Ten weeks. One hour a week. For ten long weeks, just the thought of him being in the building had been enough to cause a provoking blend of fascination and distress. But she had persevered, and the program was finished for the school year. She wouldn’t have to see him again.

  Her thoughts focused on the present as the man in the truck stepped out of his vehicle. His body unfolded to his full height as he looked around and surveyed the scene. Her heart nearly stopped beating as she got a better look at him. Same height, same fantastic build, same arrogant swagger.

  It was him!

  He wasn’t dressed like the man she knew from her school. He was off duty, for one thing. The street clothes emphasized his maleness in a way she wasn’t used to. Her breath became snarled up in her throat.

  Her eyes detailed the differences. The jet black hair was the same, but that was about it. His eyes were hidden by those aviator sunglasses that all cops seemed to wear. He wore faded jeans and scuffed boots. His torso was covered in a black tee shirt that molded to his chest. And he had a leather shoulder holster and pistol clinging to his left side. Amy began to hyperventilate.

  He strolled toward her and reached out to place a hand on the roof of her car. He leaned down and looked in the window where she sat. That massive chest and gun were directly in her line of vision.

  “Mrs. Sanford. Having problems, Ma’am?” His words were low. Respectful. He had one of the deepest voices Amy had ever heard. It was the most prominent detail in her dreams.

  “L-lieutenant Fontenot, y-yes, I am.” She couldn’t keep from stammering with that big gun in her face. He was by far, the sexiest man Amy had ever met.

  “What happened?”

  “It just started spluttering. I p-pulled over and it died.” Her words were shaky.

  “It’s okay, Ma’am. You’ll be all right.” His words soothed. “Have you called your husband yet?”

  Amy paused at the question. Oh, God, here goes. “I’m not m-married.” She felt like she was confessing a sin.

  Primal satisfaction engulfed him at her words. Not Married! The one and only thing that had kept him from pursuing her until she was naked and flat on her back in his bed was the husband he had erroneously believed she had. He had taken cold showers every night for ten long weeks after watching her sexy little body moving around the back of the classroom. Ten weeks of seeing her dressed in demure skirts or drab slacks and flat shoes. Teacher clothes. But nothing could hide those smooth curves and her hot, unconsciously sensual movements. It was like trying to contain fire behind cardboard. It burned through. It burned him. And now he could have it all.

  “Why the M.R.S.?” He bit out the letters in rapid succession and waited for an answer.

  Amy’s confused mind tried to make sense of the letters. The acronym suddenly made sense. Her nerves cranked up a notch. He wasn’t wasting any time. “Oh. Um, well, I was married. And I’ve worked at the school a long time. It just kind of stuck after the divorce. And I thought it was better for Kayla. My daughter.” Relief washed through her as her voice didn’t noticeably shake.

  “Where’s Kayla now?” His voice was deep, patient.

  “I just took her to the airport. Since she turned fourteen, her father and I have been letting her fly by herself to see him in Dallas.” This was more conversation than they had had in all of the previous ten weeks.

  “What about your boyfriend? Have you called him?” He knew he was digging, but didn’t give a damn.

  “My phone is dead. And I don’t have a boyfriend.” His dark eyes burned into hers. She started shaking, and lowered her lashes in self defense.

  He moved his hands to the car door and looked his fill. She had on more make-up than usual. Her hair was loose and wild. He looked around the rest of the front of the car. She had a stack of school books and folders. And a small overnight case and a soft, material bag next to it. The top of a bottle stuck out of the bag.

  “What’s in the bottle, Ms. Sanford?”
The emphasis he put on the ‘Ms’ was markedly noticeable.

  She looked over at the bag in question. “It’s a bottle of wine.”

  “You haven’t been drinking tonight, have you?” His voice was nonchalant.

  “No. Of course not. I brought it with me because I’m going to spend the night with my friend Renee tonight. I never drink and drive.”

  “It looks like it’s been open.” His voice was still neutral, bored even.

  “Oh, yes. I opened it last weekend. I only ever have one glass of wine at a time. It usually takes me a month to finish a bottle.” Her voice became strained with nerves.

  “You can’t have an open container in your vehicle, Ms. Sanford.” Again with the ‘Ms.’ He drawled it, spread it out over three syllables.

  “I don’t have an open container. It’s closed. See?” She pointed over to it.

  “Open container means the seal has been broken, Ms. Sanford. From now on, you might want to remember that. You’re breaking the law.” He watched a flush run over her cheeks. She started to stammer again.

  “I’m s-sorry. I didn’t know that. I don’t ever break the law.” She looked like she was going to cry.

  “Don’t do it again. Now, pop the hood and let me take a look.” His voice was distracted, already moving on to the problem at hand. She did as he said. He walked around to the front of the car and pushed up the hood. He fiddled with something for a few minutes. He looked around at her and said, “Give it a try.” She turned the key and it started. He slammed the hood and walked back around to her.

  “You definitely need to have it serviced. It’ll hold for now, but it’s going to die again. I’m going to pull around and you can follow me to my house.” He turned and started to walk away.

  “W-wait.” She yelled at his retreating back. He slowly turned and sauntered back to her. He raised his eyebrows in question. “W-what do you mean, follow you to your house?”

  He stood there, looking in at her. His booted feet planted solidly apart. He was blatantly male, his biceps sinewy and bulging. The weapon strapped to his shoulder solidifying his stance of authority.