by Anthology
The rain misted her face as he curled around her and tucked his arms under her back to get to her waist. When he tipped her up and he went even deeper, she locked her ankles behind his ass and gloried in the feel of Deacon going at her full throttle.
Cognizant of his still healing flesh at the back of her mind somewhere, she speared her hands into his shorts and felt each flex of muscle as he fucked her in the wide open. Primal as the earth beneath her, she’d never felt so free or so out of control.
When he rolled his hips in a methodical circle, she slid one hand up to his hair to grip it hard as her body spiraled. She clenched around him as she chased pleasure once more.
Nothing before had been like it was with Deacon.
She dragged him down to her mouth to drown the scream that wouldn’t stay inside her. Spots danced, and the world went into a vacuum for a moment.
And then she heard a whoop-whoop blast. Her eyes flew open and the swirling blue lights danced around Deacon. He caged her down as he looked over and swore.
“Hold it right there!” Came a very pissed off voice.
“You have got to be fucking kidding me.”
“I think the fucking was the part he’s pissed about,” she whispered.
He looked down at her. “Really? You’re going to joke now?”
She shrugged and muffled a laugh. He grasped the material of her shirt together and tried to block her from the prying eyes of the cop. She peered around his shoulder and groaned. This time, it was definitely not for the fun reasons.
A freaking trooper. That was awesome. She quickly tucked his still-hard cock back into his pants. When he lifted himself off of her, she used his size to her advantage. Rolling to her knees, she jerked up her shorts, wincing at the mud and grass that was stamped on her butt.
“Do you have any idea what’s going on right now?” The cop’s voice was just under shriek. “We’re under a storm advisory.”
“Yes, Officer. We got caught in the storm and hid out in that shed over there. We were trying to get to our car.” Deacon held up his hands, fingers spread in apology.
“Having sex in the park is not getting to your car, sir.”
“Uh, no.” Deacon smiled widely. “We wiped out in the mud and…”
Harper zipped her jeans as she whispered in his ear. “Not helping, rock star.” She pressed her lips together to stop a smile when Deacon’s jaw muscle jumped.
“You do realize that this is a state park?” The cop nodded to the benches that had been filled with people a short time ago. Of course, now it was empty because of the storm.
“Yes, sir.”
The subservient tone made her pause. Deacon really was such a Boy Scout at times.
When the trooper put his hand on his gun, Harper’s back went up. That wasn’t good. Under the brim of his hat, the cop’s eyes went flat and his nostrils flared. Deacon looked over his shoulder at her, and then turned back to the cop and stood.
The trooper’s gun was out so fast that when Deacon took a step back, she ended up on her butt.
Again.
Deacon whirled around, his gaze filled with worry.
“Hold it.” The cop’s sharp voice cracked the air.
Deacon froze.
“Crap,” she mumbled.
“Miss, you need to come out where I can see you.”
“May I help her up?” Deacon asked in a careful voice.
“Stay there.”
Harper rolled onto her knees and glanced from the cop to Deacon. Of course they had to get in trouble with the smallest trooper ever. To him, Deacon probably looked like a threat.
Rippling muscles, almost six and a half feet tall, streaked with mud, oh and tattooed.
Troopers around here were definitely of the act first, ask questions later variety. She knew firsthand. “Okay, officer. We’re really sorry that we—”
“Got caught?” he sneered.
“Well, yeah,” she answered. When Deacon flashed her a look, she had to shut down the laugh that was building. Only they would get caught having sex outside.
“Get on your knees.” The cop leveled his gun on Deacon.
“What?” Deacon’s voice rose.
Her heart skipped a beat. “Let’s not get crazy here. We’re sorry, okay?”
“You’re under arrest for public indecency and public lewdness. You have the right to remain silent…” The rest of the Miranda rights fuzzed in her head.
Wait. Arrested? Okay, now there was definitely cause for a fine. Or even a stern lecture. She stepped forward, and the gun swung her way.
“We have to get back to work. We’re over at the…” Shit, what was the name of the venue? The gun pointed at her fizzled out any smarts she normally had.
“The Galaxa,” Deacon said helpfully.
“Yes! That’s it. We were just out to do a fun thing for the show tonight. This is Deacon McCoy. He’s opening tonight at the show for Rebel Rage.”
“So you think this exempts you? That he’s a musician and that makes it okay?”
Uh, yes?
Probably not the right answer, Harper Lee.
* * *
The cop reached behind him and came up with cuffs. “Put your nose on the ground and hands on your head.”
Deacon sighed and lowered himself back onto the soaking wet grass. Rain still misted the area, but the worst of the storm was dissipating.
The press of the officer’s knee in his back and bite of metal around his wrist made the situation a helluva lot more real now. Especially when his wrists were a bit too big for regulation cuffs. The price of his big body. But damn if they didn’t do the job.
Mini Cop hooked an arm through his. “Up.”
He gritted his teeth. He wasn’t a fucking dog. With the rain dissipating, people started coming outdoors again. The minute he saw someone lift a phone, he swore.
This wasn’t going to be good.
At all.
Deacon helped the trooper by staggering to his feet. With his hands behind his back, his balance wasn’t what it usually was.
“Miss, I need you to follow me to the car.”
“I need my purse.”
The squawk of a radio at his shoulder made the cop stiffen. “Leave it.”
Harper reached for her purse and Mini Cop barked another order for her to stand still. What the hell? Did he think they were going to make a run for it? Or that she had a gun in her bag?
You’re in Texas, asshole.
“I am not leaving it. It has my identification.”
Mini Cop pushed Deacon over to the spot on the grass where Harper’s oversized pink bag lay. He wrapped it around his wrist and shuffled Deacon back across the thick stretch of grass.
They’d gotten a lot closer to the parking lot than he’d thought. Just another hundred feet and they’d have been home free. At least if they’d been having sex in the car, they might have gotten out of this mess.
“Hands on the hood, miss.”
Deacon was used to this reaction by cops. He hadn’t had many run ins with them, but his size was enough of a worry that most handled him proactively.
This, however, was beyond fucking ridiculous.
As more people gathered and more phones came out of pockets and purses, Deacon could only point his eyes heavenward. Arrested on his second week of the tour because he couldn’t keep his dick in his pants. Awesome.
To top it off, all of it would be on Facebook and Twitter soon. When his phone buzzed in his pocket, his shoulders sagged. Probably already was.
The trooper dragged him over to the back of the car, opened the door, and tried to maneuver him inside. When Deacon clipped his ear for the third time, he jerked back. “Look, man. I’m not resisting. Can you just let me get in on my own?”
“Officer Bishop to you.”
Deacon prayed for humility and nodded. “Of course. Officer Bishop, then.” When the cop stepped back, Deacon dropped onto the seat and tucked his head under the doorway before swinging his fe
et in.
Harper waved from the front of the car, smiling widely. Right for the dash-cam. Bishop dumped her purse into the front seat, shut both doors, came around to her, and jerked her arm back with another set of cuffs.
Deacon’s spine snapped straight. “Hey! Not so rough.”
The cop spoke into his shoulder unit. The orders of their arrest and details of their crime came through in whatever code only a cop would understand.
When Bishop opened the door, he shook his head. Harper’s blue eyes were blazing, and her shoulders were set back defiantly. Deacon tried not to focus on the fact that she wasn’t wearing a bra and her breasts were pushing against the wet material of her button-down shirt. And said shirt had way too many buttons open for anyone else to be looking at her.
“I can’t believe you’re really arresting us for—”
“Lady, it would be in the best interest for both of you if you went with the ‘You have the right to remain silent’ end of my instructions, okay?”
“Bishop, cut your misdemeanor loose, we’ve got a meltdown on the 67 and we need you there for backup. Five car pile-up and a washout on one lane.” The voice through Bishop’s radio was shrill with authority and short-tempered.
“But, sir, I’ve already got them cuffed.”
“Christ, Bishop, I’ve got my hands full, and a little hanky-panky on a rainy afternoon is not at the top of my list of arrests.”
Deacon held his breath.
“Yes!” Harper said with glee.
Too much glee. Deacon bumped her and gave her a meaningful look, but she just smiled back at him and waggled her eyebrows. “Tell your boss I love him,” she said as Officer Bishop hauled her out of the car. “Ow!”
Deacon tipped his head back. No fear. Not one little ounce of it. Cuffed and tossed in squad car outside of a swank golf course in a strange town in the aftermath of mind-bending sex. Of course, this was the way he was going to bookend his first time with her.
How else was it supposed to happen? Hearts and flowers and a romantic dinner? Nope. Of course, it would be Harper mouthing off at a cop, with her sunflower and rain scent swirling around his head, in the back of a cop car. Was it any wonder why he was already more than halfway in love with her? He laughed at the ceiling of the car as the cop slammed the door and quickly rounded to his side.
Bishop unlocked his cuffs and stood back. “Get out.”
Didn’t have to ask him twice. Deacon stepped out and barely stumbled back a step before Bishop shut the back door and climbed in the front driver side.
“Here.”
Deacon grabbed for Harper’s bag before it hit the pavement as the squad car pulled away from the curb and shot out of the parking lot. Harper laughed and came at him like a barreling puppy. She looped her arms around his waist. “Can you believe that?”
“No thanks to you, Lawless.”
She laughed, flinging her chin back in delight. He tightened his arms on her when she arched away from him then curled her arms around his neck. She tilted her head to the side, her summer sky eyes unrepentant. “I can’t help it. I hate cops. Egomaniacs with a badge. That one had a short man complex on top of it. Double duty douchebag.”
He didn’t want to be amused, but the pure devil living in her eyes made him hard again for fuck’s sake. “Christ, Harper. We’re lucky he had a more important call, or we’d both be in serious trouble.”
“Aww, is my Boy Scout worried about a little black mark on his jacket?”
“Jacket?” His eyebrows raised. “Do I want to know why you know that term?”
“I watch Castle on the bus while you watch Ink Master?”
He narrowed his gaze.
She sighed and played with the ends of his hair. “I may have been arrested once.”
Incredulous, he couldn’t help but laugh. “Once?”
“Okay, so it was twice. But the second time wasn’t my fault. I didn’t see the trespassing sign.”
“And the first?”
She grinned up at him, drawing a zigzag line along the center of his belly. “I may have borrowed a car without getting permission.”
His jaw dropped. “You stole a car?”
“Not exactly.”
“You can’t steal just a little.”
“I caught my boyfriend-at-the-time kissing a girl at a party. It was in the middle of nowhere Idaho in a field.” She dragged her nails lightly around his neck and up his jaw to his chin before tapping on the indent. “He pissed me off, so I drove his car four counties over and left it in long term parking at a bus depot.”
“What…or who was in that county?”
“Well, it was more of a poetic thing. I did a Google search to figure out what was going to be the next town for me to move to and found a little town named Revenge. Seemed as good a place as any.”
“Just like that?”
Harper smoothed her palms over his chest and lowered her eyes to his belt. “Have duffel bag, will travel.”
He tipped her chin back up to meet his gaze. His gut bottomed out, and his smile slid away. “Did you have that planned?”
“No, but I knew it was time to move on. I’d known Scott was losing interest, and to be honest, I’d been looking for an out anyway. We didn’t fit.” She slid out of his arms and hooked her finger into his belt loop, dragging him forward a step. “We need to get going.”
“Right.”
She sighed before reaching up to rub the pad of her finger between his brows. “Sometimes people are only meant to be in your life for a little while. Doesn’t make them any less important.”
“And Scott was important?”
“Nah. Scott was an asshole with a really hot car.” She linked her fingers with his and turned back toward their vehicle, tugging him along behind her. “It was worth the six hours in jail to drive it one last time.”
Just the thought of her in a jail cell had his shoulder blades itching. She was so goddamn tiny. Anything could have happened to her. “Who bailed you out?”
“My parents. Well, via my brother, Randy. Dad was on the road with Fleetwood Mac, and my mom was up in Edmonton, I think. I can’t remember. It was a few summers ago.” She snapped her fingers. “Right, the rodeo up there. Lots of musicians, so she was freelancing. Good money,” she said with a smile over her shoulder.
Her voice was so matter of fact. Like it was a normal occurrence for her parents to be unavailable, and her brother to be her guardian by proxy. Fuck a shark sideways, her brother was barely nineteen.
“Then what happened?”
“Nosy thing aren’t you, big guy?” She got to the car and leaned on the door with her arms crossed. “The judge thought Scott was as much of an asshole as I did and gave me fifteen hours community service since the car wasn’t hurt. That was actually how I ended up going to culinary school. I worked at a soup kitchen, and one of the volunteers owned a bakery.”
He shook his head. “Only you would make a career out of a forced sentence.”
She laid her hands on his cheeks and went up on her toes. He took her cue and lowered his mouth to hers. When the slow kiss heated to a slow burn, she twisted her face away from him and pushed him back a pace. “Don’t wear those rose-colored glasses too long, Deacon. I don’t look that good in pink.”
Was she really that blind? Deacon slid his fingers into her hair and forced her gaze back up to his. “I never had a pair to begin with.”
She circled her fingers around his wrist and gently pulled his hand free. “I think we killed a good metaphor there, rock star. Save it for the lyrics, huh?”
He rolled his eyes and kissed her forehead. He wasn’t sure if it was a good or bad thing that she didn’t see how amazing she was. “Think you can navigate us back to the venue without a highway?”
“I think so.”
“Good.” He handed over her purse. “Let’s get back before they send out a search party.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
August 20, 3:48 PM - The Aftermath
They fishtailed through the gravel on their way into the parking lot. “Son of a fuck.” He looked down at his watch. He was more than twenty minutes late for soundcheck. Even avoiding the highway, it had been a beast to get back to the venue.
The sun was back out and their little hatchback that the girls on staff shared was about as roomy as a tuna can. The AC was no match for the rivulets of sweat running down his chest.
“Park as close to the stage as you can. I’ve got my food service badge on. I’ll take care of the car.”
“You have to get to work, too.”
“Put your Boy Scout hat away,” she said with a huff.
He caught air on a few of the potholes as they barreled through the parking lot. Harper stuck her head out the window and waved her badge at the guy collecting parking lot fees. When he waved them on, Deacon hit the gas rounding the main part of the Galaxa to the service entry.
He stomped the brakes, halting the car beside a side door that led down to floor of the amphitheater. Dragging her across the center console, he crushed her mouth with his. He didn’t want to let her go. Not after the afternoon they’d had. He needed just one more taste.
She opened for him, her tongue skimming his lips before they tangled furiously. Instantly hard, he groaned into her mouth. Simple and honest lust thrummed through him like a drumbeat.
When he pulled away from her, he realized it really was a drumbeat he heard. Harper had pushed his door open so she could climb onto his lap. “Taste of Candy” had a wicked beat, and Jazz wasn’t holding back like she sometimes did during soundcheck.
He filled his hands with Harper’s ass as she wiggled for a better way to torture him. Effective torture. His dick was hard enough to steer the damn car. She grasped his hair, yanking him where she wanted him. Fuck, he loved kissing her. Loved touching her. And now that he knew what it was like to get inside her, he knew what addiction tasted like.