by Various
Goddamn this woman.
“Lolly,” he croaked. He willed himself to roll toward her. To move farther up into the bed and gather her in his arms. He held her there, unmoving, until more strength returned. Then he brushed her hair back from her face and told her he loved her. At least he hoped he did, because the darkness came upon him fast, pulling him under. Before he knew enough to resist, he was asleep.
Chapter Thirty-three
Brooks was half-asleep when Lolly climbed back in bed. He hadn’t opened his eyes but continued to dream even though he’d been aware of the shower and had formulated a plan in case Lolly attempted to leave the room. The fact that she’d come back to bed had him grinning blindly as she snuggled up against him. He threaded both arms around her, pulling her close and kissing the top of her head.
That accounted for three-quarters of his joy. The last bit was because he knew without a doubt his pecker was still in fine working order. After whatever the hell he’d gone through last night, he wouldn’t have been surprised to find the thing broken in half.
Lolly must have noticed it too, because the most perfect woman in the world stroked a tentative hand down his hard-on, flawlessly bringing him awake. God, he loved her. With his eyes still closed, he hummed his appreciation as she continued, his body rejuvenating, energy stirring his limbs and mind. He hauled her on top of him, moving them both to the center of the bed. Her knees straddled his hips, her hands braced on his chest. He opened his eyes to find damp hair falling over him while Lolly positioned herself over his erection. Then, ever so slowly, she dropped her hips back and he found his way home.
His hands clasped her knees, his thumbs rubbing up and down her thighs. She sat back on him and he rewarded her by lifting his pelvis and rotating his hips. He pulled his knees up and placed his feet flat on the bed. She tossed her hair out of her face and looked down at him through dark sapphires, her lids already starting to get heavy.
She bit her lip as she circled her hips, grinding herself around his swollen cock. She closed her eyes, and he snuck his hands up her legs where the enticing triangle of dark curls sat against his body. His thumbs uncovered her most sensitive spot. His right thumb stroked low and found its mark. Lolly leaned back, exposing herself to his fingers while still circling her hips around his shaft.
“Brooooks,” she sighed, eyes closed, head back. “That feels soooo good.”
“For me too, Laura Leigh. For me too.”
Goddammit, he wanted to put his mouth on her. Somewhere. Anywhere. But it felt too good having his cock stretched taut, jammed to the hilt inside her and being manipulated by her rotating pelvis. So he bit his lips and focused on the erotica in front of him.
Their tempo changed little by little––she started moving up and down; he started moving in and out. When she leaned forward to brace her hands on his chest, he captured her wrists, extended her arms over his head, and placed her hands on top of the headboard. Then he raised his head and captured a stiff nipple with his teeth. He latched on and sucked. Lolly moaned and increased her tempo, intentionally rubbing herself against his torso.
He had a lot of energy and he was dying to show Lolly how much he appreciated this kind of physical activity first thing in the morning. So he slid down the bed, under her body, allowing his cock to fall out of heaven so he could put his mouth directly under her sweet, sweet core. He pulled her hips down, tilted his head back, and indulged.
Dear God, the taste of her turned him on like nothing else. His hands gripped her hips, forcing her down on his face, making her ride him so his mouth could make love to that sweet bud at the top of her apex while his finger stroked her deep inside.
And oh, she liked it. He could tell she liked it, even as she shrieked when he inserted his thumb and slid his fingers further along her backside, massaging the sensitive nerve endings. “Dear God that’s good,” she said, moving slower and slower, then stopping while she let his hands and mouth do all the work. He sucked and manipulated until the heavy panting turned into one––long––wail of release as her body tightened and shook, cum easing down over his hand.
He moved that hand between his own legs and spread Lolly’s essence over the head of his cock and down the shaft, leaving his mouth to extend Lolly’s orgasm as long as she wanted to go. When she collapsed, he rolled her over to her back and crawled up her body.
“You don’t have to do anything,” he said, spreading her legs with his knees and kissing the tender spots around her collarbone. “Just let me see how far we can take this.”
Lolly threw her arms over her head, welcoming him to her body. He laid his hips down against hers, rubbing himself on top of her pubic curls, then into her damp heat, sinking deeper along the length of her body. He rubbed himself between her folds again and again, shivering at the sensation. “Oh, Lolly DuVal,” he uttered, low and serious. “Forgive my language, but you are one…great…lay.”
He pushed himself inside, sliding in deep and long, moaning his appreciation. His arms went straight, supporting most of his weight so he could look down between their bodies and watch. His intention was to keep it slow and steady so he could extend the pleasure and bask in the physical sensations of loving Lolly. But his body was greedy, wanting more intensity and craving the climax.
Like the night before, monstrous lust shot from his muscles to his nerve endings, shutting down the civilized part of his brain and turning him from Dr. Jekyll into Mr. Hyde. Thrusting deeper, harder, and faster, he moved them up the bed. Lolly braced her palms against the headboard, giving him more resistance. When she wrapped her legs around his back he slid deeper, cried out, and pounded his way home, the bed creaking violently beneath them.
Lolly watched the power of Brooks' muscled form strain every sinew from his forehead down, and from his toes up. She watched the energy converge and surge where their bodies joined. God is an awesome architect, she thought as she reveled in the power of Brooks' climax.
His arms broke down one at a time as he collapsed onto her body. She wrapped him up in her limbs, her fingers drifting over his shoulders and back. His naked body was magnificent, and it was all hers.
He rolled off too soon, leaving the bed, telling her to stay where she was. With her arms empty and her body craving his spent weight upon her, she rolled over instead of moaning her distress. Then she heard a soft buzz and wondered if he’d gone to shave. The memory of an electric toothbrush by his sink made her smile. He was brushing his teeth. She heard the water running. Soon enough, everything went quiet, and she felt the bed shift to her right. She rolled over and looked into his freshly-scrubbed face.
“I wanted to brush my teeth before I did this.” He leaned in and kissed her, all minty fresh and cool. His body stretched out on the bed before wrapping her up in his arms. His tongue played across her lips before she opened up and let him inside.
They made out for the sheer pleasure of it, eventually turning it into a competition between tongues and lips, laughing out loud when teeth got involved. It was going to be great fun loving Brooks ‘Golden Boy’ Bennett.
“Best. Day. Ever,” he said between kisses.
“Mmm,” she agreed. “And it’s just getting started.”
One Week Later
Duncan James stood in a hallway just off the main foyer of Raleigh’s largest courthouse. He was dressed for court, though he wasn’t scheduled. Beside him stood a bright-eyed Annabelle Devine in her signature white business attire, perfectly fit for court. Beside her was one very nervous Vance Evans. He was dressed in an unprecedented three-piece suit that put his impeccably dressed father to shame. The man was drawing looks from every female who walked by, and a few of the men as well.
The fact that Vance wasn’t returning any of those looks spoke plainly to the stress he was feeling. They were all here to meet Piper Beaumont, a woman Vance hadn’t laid eyes on since fourth grade. A woman who was about to be ambushed as far as Duncan was concerned. His colleague, Matt Collins, was standing in the cent
er of the foyer waiting for Ms. Beaumont to come out of the courtroom where she was defending a young client. Matt had assured Duncan that Ms. Beaumont would be able to handle the spontaneous introductions. He went on to say that Ms. Beaumont could handle anything.
In short order, Matt’s hand gestured toward them, indicating that he had Ms. Beaumont in his sights. Duncan, Annabelle, and Vance all moved just into the foyer to wait for Matt to announce their presence and bring Piper over for introductions. Duncan could tell there was a lot of momentum coming from the courtroom. He noticed what looked like a couple of parents with their college-aged daughter moving swiftly toward the front doors of the building, followed closely by a herd of dark-suited males.
And then came a bit of sunshine, Duncan thought. No, not a bit of sunshine, but the whole ball of fire come to earth in the form of one petite, curvy, outlandishly-dressed-for-court Piper Beaumont.
Duncan knew it was Piper because Matt had stepped directly into her path and was talking to her, apparently explaining that he wanted to make an introduction. Piper, in her bright-yellow garden party dress and three-inch yellow patent heels, handed her large yellow tote to one of the three, briefcase-toting male lawyers surrounding her. She turned her head to say something to all of them. They nodded, and off they went, full stride.
“Is that her?” Annabelle said, sounding overly delighted. She moved past Duncan as if compelled to take a closer look. Duncan, apparently under the same compulsion, moved in step behind Annabelle. Admittedly, he was just as intrigued. He only hoped his voice didn’t come out sounding quite so delighted.
Matt Collins turned to indicate the two of them. “Piper Beaumont,” he said. “This is my colleague, Duncan James.”
Oh, Duncan thought as he took her hand. Not a ball of fire at all, but a Kewpie doll come to life. Yellow-blond curls, large blue eyes, and big pink cheeks. Forget her mouth. He couldn’t chance another look at her mouth, for Christ’s sake. He was standing next to Annabelle.
“Ms. Beaumont,” he grinned. “It certainly is a pleasure to meet you.” He cleared his throat and then remembered the woman standing to his left. “May I introduce Annabelle Devine? She’s from Henderson. Like you.”
“Oh, really? Henderson?” Piper asked Annabelle, as if Annabelle had come from the moon rather than just an hour’s drive away. “It’s got to be my favorite place in all the world. I grew up there. Well, I didn’t grow completely up there exactly, but I was there through fourth grade.”
“I lived there most of my life,” Annabelle gushed. “I’m in Raleigh now, but my parents are still there, and I go back all the time.”
“Oh, I’ve been meaning to go back. I keep tellin’ everybody that the Research Triangle may as well be the Bermuda Triangle. Once I moved in, I never moved out. Except for college—I did manage to get out of the state for college. But that inexplicable pull, that force of the Triangle, had me back here before I knew it. How is ol’ Henderson?” Piper asked. Her southern drawl became noticeably stronger the more she talked to Annabelle.
“Just as lovely as ever. You really ought to come back for a visit. The center of town has been transformed by a few boutique shops and two nice restaurants. There are a couple of small businesses, too. Other than that, I bet you’d find it just as you remember.”
“Ms. Beaumont, the reason we’re here,” Duncan interrupted, “is to reintroduce an old friend of yours from Henderson. Maybe you remember Van—” Duncan looked behind him and saw nothing but empty space. “Wait. Where’d he go?”
The lobby area had cleared out as they’d stood gabbing. Except for the security detail, Matt Collins, Piper Beaumont, Annabelle, and himself were the only ones around.
Vance Evans had disappeared into thin air.
~*~*~
Thank you for reading Good Cop. I hope you had fun.
Vance’s story continues in
Bad Cop
Heroes of Henderson ~ Book 2
Available now.
For buy links, review links, excerpts, to sign up for my newsletter, and fun stuff like The Bad Girls Book Club visit www.LizKellyBooks.com
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About the Author
Growing up every summer in a place where dancing and romancing are literally part of its theme song, Liz Kelly can't help but be a romantic at heart. And since her favorite author, Kathleen E. Woodiwiss wrote some of the world's greatest romances, she's just trying to give the world a little more of that. (Okay, maybe a little sexier that, but we are now in a new millennium after all.)
A graduate of Wake Forest University, where she met her handsome golf-addicted husband, (who is now sporting dark glasses everywhere he goes) Liz is a mother of two grown sons (also sporting dark glasses) and a miniature Labradoodle named Isabelle. They live in the Fountain of Youth, a.k.a. Naples, FL where dancing and romancing continues on ad infinitum.
Baby Stetson
Love and Music in Texas: Book One
by
Nikki Lynn Barrett
Chapter 1
The house band played exceptionally well. The lead singer’s long golden hair flew behind her as she darted across the large stage, belting out a high note into the microphone. Goosebumps ran over his arms. She was phenomenal! This woman had way too much talent to be hanging around in a small town.
The smooth, sultry sound of her voice did things to him that he hadn’t felt in a long time. He scolded himself mentally. He had a mission, and being seduced by this woman’s voice wasn’t one of them.
He debated heavily on approaching her tonight.
She stood by the guitarist while he went into a solo, the woman rocking in rhythm. Beads of sweat glinted on her forehead from the spotlight following her, but it only accentuated her beauty. A true performer.
One of the band members took the microphone from her after the song finished, proceeding to inform the audience that it was her birthday. Cheers and thunderous applause filled the room as the crowd began to sing happy birthday to her.
What he wouldn’t give to be here for better reasons.
*****
“Damn girl, you rocked it tonight!” The reactions were all positive. The high energy still sizzled even though the concert ended fifteen minutes ago. Avery ‘Baby Stetson’ Callimer smiled and high-fived the crowd of people as she stepped offstage, aiming herself toward the bar, empty water bottle in hand. Throat slightly parched, she yearned for more water after putting her all in the last song. It felt so good to be able to have such an energy charged performance. It was a better night than usual. Avery was floating. That’s how she felt after being up on stage. It was the most amazing feeling in the world. It’s like she’d entered a whole different world. And she had. Pouring her heart into her music was Avery’s way of channeling all of the feelings she buried deep inside. Writing them into a song was her outlet, her escape.
“Can I get a water, please?” Avery called to Dylan, the middle aged bartender working the place tonight. He nodded in response and went to grab one. She pulled out her wallet to pay, but Dylan waved his hand dismissively as he brought the bottle to her. “On the house, for my favorite performer. Oh, and Happy birthday!” He winked, slid the bottle over to her, and moved away to help another customer before she could protest.
Avery shrugged and hoisted herself on the barstool. She uncapped the bottle and lifted it to her lips, desperate for each drop. The cool liquid soothed her throat. Avery drank half of the contents before setting it down again, satisfied.
A large hand clapped on her shoulder. Before Avery could turn around, Jameson, the lead guitarist, shifted his body around to stand before her, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her toward him. He had a lopsided, but happy grin on his face, and he leaned in for a kiss. “That was amazing tonight, Baby Stetson,” he said sweetly in her ear, giving it a gentle nibble. “The chemistry up there could have set this place on fire.” His hands moved lower, down her back suggestively
. “Speaking of chemistry, you sure light my fire. Are you having a good birthday?”
Avery kissed him back, and she knew he sensed she didn’t put her all into it, because he pulled away, watching her with his questioning eyes. “I thought we were okay.” His smile disappeared, disappointment taking its place.
No. They weren’t okay. They hadn’t been for a long time now, and each passing day that Avery allowed things to continue this way, the worse it became.
“Jameson, it’s going to take awhile before things are okay again,” Avery replied. Jameson had been her best friend for years, even before they started dating. Avery had loved him, thought maybe one day they would live a life together making music, but a big bombshell from Jameson six months ago changed things. Changed Avery. Jameson knew it, but they’d been trying to reconnect. For Avery, it wasn’t that easy, and it wasn’t working, though she just wasn’t ready to give up yet. She didn’t want to lose him if she couldn’t stay anymore. It pained her that she felt like this, but no matter how much she tried, the glue that held them wasn’t as strong anymore.
“I’m sorry, Avery. I know I’m being pushy. I just, I don’t want to lose you.” Their gazes locked. Jameson removed his arms from around her and placed his hand over hers instead. That gesture used to send chills down her spine, but now...
I don’t want to lose you either.
She fought the urge to cry. She really needed to sort out her feelings. Jameson was so hopeful. It wasn’t right to keep him hanging in the balance like that. Not when in her heart, she knew her romantic feelings had evaporated. She cared for Jameson, she always would, but the passion that had once ignited her had burnt out. It killed her to feel this way, and she felt bad, but the truth had to be spoken.