by Maren Lee
“Come again?” she asked. His eyes got dark. Heated.
“Oh, I’d love to make you come again. Over and over, Laney.”
Her stomach flipped, her pussy throbbed. Holy. Shit. Lane bit her lip.
Jake leaned in close enough to her she could smell the heavenly scent of his cologne mixed with the spicy alcohol. It was deliciously intoxicating. It had to be the whiskey running through her veins that was making her think and feel this way, but she didn’t care. She was definitely not thinking about Connor.
“Don’t bite your lip like that unless you want me to take you right here on this bartop, Red.”
Lane was never one for following orders. She bit her lip again and tossed her hair over her shoulder. She just couldn’t help herself.
Jake downed his beer. “Come on,” he grabbed her hand.
“Where are we going?” she asked breathlessly.
“I want to dance with you, and not that junior high bullshit we did earlier. I wanna feel you move, honey.”
“But what if someone notices us?”
“Do you care right now? ‘Cause I sure fuckin’ don’t.”
It didn’t take her long to think about it, “No.”
“Let’s go, Red.” He pulled her next to him and threaded his fingers through hers. They walked to the dance floor, hand in hand.
Jake pulled her in tight to him, wrapping his arms around her waist, pressing one hand into the small of her back, the other just below the clasp of her bra. She leaned into him, putting her head on his chest, her arms resting on his thick shoulders. Lane was thankful she was wearing heels. The height differential between the two was insane. If she was barefoot, he had to be at least a foot taller than her. If not more.
Lane never expected tonight to end up like this, but it was better than drowning her sorrows alone. She decided to allow herself to let go and be in the moment. She’d deal with the bullshit another day.
As they danced, she could feel Jake’s hardness pressing into her stomach. Whoa. It felt so powerful to have this effect on him. Lane grinded against him. Jake leaned down and pulled her earlobe into his mouth. “You know what you’re doing, Red?” He growled into her ear and pressed himself into her harder, increasing her need. Control yourself, Lane! She looked up at him and into his eyes through her long lashes. Damn, he’s so handsome.
Lane wanted to be confident. She wanted to say yes. She wanted to say she absolutely knew what she was doing.
But couldn’t.
Because she didn’t.
She shook her head no.
“Well, you tell me when you figure it out, then,” Jake said. He released her. Fuck. Lane had no idea what she was doing. But she certainly didn’t want to go back to her own room. And she definitely wanted Jake Hamilton. What the hell. So as he turned, Lane grabbed his wrist and pulled him back.
He stared at her for a moment, searching her eyes for an answer in the dark, while the music played and the light show flashed around them.
“Take me upstairs, Jake.”
He gave her his patented shit-eating grin and pulled her off the dance floor and toward the elevators. Lane still wasn’t quite sure what she was doing, but tonight was going to be interesting.
Chapter 1
Present Day
Lane’s phone rang on her desk for what seemed like the thousandth time in the past month. She glanced at the caller ID and hit the “divert” button. Again.
She didn’t have the time to deal with the aftermath of Justin and Chloe’s wedding. It didn’t matter how many times Connor called, she wasn’t ready to talk to him. It hadn’t been the first time she’d been cheated on, but she sure hoped it would be the last.
“Serious” was probably the wrong word to describe her relationship with Connor Parish. But Lane had certainly thought they were exclusive. Judging from what she witnessed down the isolated hallway during the waning hours of Justin and Chloe’s reception, Connor didn’t feel the same. He and a still unknown buxom blonde had been practically swallowing each other. But it was her friend’s wedding reception, and she honestly didn’t care nearly as much as she expected to, so Lane took a deep breath, turned away quietly, and got the hell out of there. Connor still didn’t know that she knew.
Every time she thought about what she was going to say to Connor, though, Lane’s mind wandered to how she spent the remainder of her evening.
Holy. Mother. Of. God.
Jake Hamilton had out-of-nowhere appeared and turned her world upside down. Like a knight in shining armor who was an expert at annoying the ever-lovin’ shit out of her, Jake had swept Lane off of her feet and into his bed. And against the wall. And in the shower.
Lane still couldn’t quite believe it. It was a moment of weakness with a man she despised. Keep telling yourself that, Lane. She had practically begged him to take her to his room. But. Ohmigod.
Lane was sad to say that she never knew sex could be so amazing. She kept telling herself that it had to be the alcohol and that she just wasn’t remembering the evening correctly. The way she and Jake naturally connected beneath the sheets must have been a figment of her imagination. God, the way he handled her like she weighed next-to-nothing. His dirty talking. The way he bossed her around. Her urgent need to do everything he demanded. It was so unlike Lane that it must have been a dream. Had to have been, right? Explosions on top of explosions on top of explosions could not have been real.
She clenched her thighs. The hot memory of Jake’s lips trailing up and down her body -- his large, rough hands caressing her breasts, pinching her nipples, staring into his hazel eyes as he rocked slowly into her body -- was interrupted by a loud crashing noise.
Lane jumped at the sudden intrusion into her fantasy. Her legal assistant, Anne, was looming above her. Ugh.
“Here are the files you asked for, Ms. Bennett,” Anne said dryly after she slammed the rest of the files down on the desk in front of her.
“Shit. Thank you. Seriously, Anne. When are you going to start calling me Lane, like I’ve asked you to do a million times?” Lane pleaded. She was nice about it. But it was beginning to get on her last fucking nerve.
“When I decide whether I like you or not,” Anne said as she walked out of Lane’s office. You are never going to belong in this town, Lane.
Lane let out a loud sigh and looked at the towering stack in front of her. There was no way she could get through all of these case files in one night by herself.
Being a public defender had its challenges, but she’d just been handed the biggest challenge of her career. Her newest client, Thomas Walters, was accused of slaying one of the Imminence, Montana city police officers, Buck Thorngren, during a traffic stop late last month. While the county had the larger, better equipped Sheriff’s department to patrol the county’s large footprint, the city of Imminence had its own smaller force to patrol within the city’s limits. The two forces often worked together.
Working against Lane in this case was the fact that her client had quite a few prior run-ins with both city and county law enforcement - and not in a good way.
Fortunately, though, the case against Tom was almost entirely circumstantial. Lane felt she at least had an argument. If they were taking this to trial, she could go down swinging.
The facts weren’t great, though. Tom was the last individual pulled over by Officer Thorngren on the night of the shooting for driving a vehicle with expired plates. His driver’s license was the last license run by dispatch at Officer Thorngren’s request. Shots were fired and Thorngren’s body was found in the exact place he’d pulled Tom over. No citations had yet been written, so one would assume that the person who had been pulled over and fled from the scene after the shooting was, in fact, the shooter. Tom was suspect number one.
Still, Tom maintained his innocence. Lane had heard a lot of denials in her career, and she’d believed some of them. But she’d never believed any of them quite like she believed Thomas Walters.
Tom claimed a mas
ked gunman came from across the highway and attacked Officer Thorngren while he was out of his vehicle. Terrified beyond belief, Tom sped from the scene. Lane had to admit that his story sounded a bit farfetched for this small town, but the officer didn’t have his dash-cam switched on and the investigators hadn’t yet found the murder weapon, so the only evidence the prosecution had was a muffled audio recording of what might have been a scuffle where two gunshots rang out at the end. But they weren’t even looking for any other suspects.
Lane was beyond frustrated.
Despite what the local law enforcement community said about her, Lane didn’t condone murder. But she did believe in justice and not locking an innocent person away for a crime they didn’t commit. Needless to say, Tom’s rap sheet and the case file were going to be a bitch to filter through. She’d have to come up with a way to try and convince a jury that Tom was not a violent criminal. He was merely a man in the wrong place at the worst possible time.
Lane’s head was spinning. She needed a caffeine pick-me-up, so she headed to the break room and popped a K-cup in the Keurig. She’d been more exhausted than she’d ever been this past week. Caffeine had become her lifeline.
Anne cleared her throat, startling Lane for the second time this morning. She leaned into the door jamb of the break room and in a sing-songy voice announced, “Deputy Hamilton is on his way over to chat with you.”
Fuck.
In addition to ignoring Connor, Lane had also been dodging Jake’s texts and calls since they parted ways the morning after they woke up tangled together in his hotel room.
Sleeping with Jake had been a huge mistake. A fantastic, orgasm-filled mistake. Conflicts of interest and career implications aside, the two fought all the time. Not to mention the fact that he was a man-whore. From what she’d heard, he’d had just about every woman in this town. And now she was on that list. Ugh. This could be disastrous.
“Can you please call him back and tell him I’m too busy?” Lane requested. Again, nicely. Lane was always nice to Anne.
“He said he knew you would say that you’re busy and he didn’t -- pardon my French -- ‘give a shit’, if you said that. He said he was coming to see you now and that you two had some business to attend to.” Lane could tell that Anne was taking great pleasure in delivering this message to her. Such a bitch.
“Dammit. Fine. Just send him back to my office when he gets here. Thanks,” Lane replied, curtly.
Lane rushed to her office and pulled out her compact. Why do you care if you look good for him, Lane? Her soft red hair was in a messy bun and her makeup looked on point, highlighting her fierce green eyes. All she needed was a touch of lip gloss. Because he’s sex on a stick and I need more orgasms, that’s why! Jesus, Lane. Don’t go there. Walk away.
Lane exuded confidence. As the fairly new lead public defender for Bounty County, she felt it was necessary in order to maintain respect and credibility. She was always dressed professionally in a skirt or slacks with heels. She had turnkey blouses for any of her outfit choices and jackets to match.
Everyone in Bounty County thought she was overdressed. People in this town would wear jeans to a gala, for Christ’s sake. But Lane didn’t care. She’d spent good money on her clothing while living in Chicago and working for Big Law. She wasn’t going to change just because it was a little over the top for Imminence’s taste. Fuck ‘em.
She adjusted her emerald green blouse and her tight, black pencil skirt. She knew she looked good. Admittedly, the leopard print stiletto heel pumps were a bit much -- a statement piece for her outfit -- but she loved them too much to deny their existence just because of small town politics.
Lane heard the entry door creak open and then slam shut. Heavy boots stomped in on the hardwood floors. Yep. There he is. Jake was pissed. No more avoiding him. Time to face the music.
Chapter 2
Jake slammed the door behind him. Anne sat at the front desk with pursed lips. He probably shouldn't have been such an asshole to her on the phone. It wasn’t her fault that Lane had been ignoring his calls and texts for nearly a month. Didn’t help that Anne was an uptight bitch, though.
After the night he and Lane had spent together, Jake knew that one time with Lane (or three or four times, as it were) was never going to be enough for him. It was crazy and intense. A completely different experience for him. He was smitten. The very next day he decided to start seriously wooing Lane Bennett. They may be like oil and water, but they were too good together. Opposites attract for a reason. Yeah, things were complicated with her position and his job, but Jake was confident they could figure it out. Damn anyone who said differently.
The trouble was going to be convincing Lane of that.
Jake would be the first to admit that he’d been a total asshole to her. She’d turned him down on her first night in town and then beat his ass in the courtroom and he’d held it against her like a dick. She was good at her job. Fuck, she was great at it. Lane was a bulldog lawyer. She’d destroyed him on the witness stand multiple times. How’d you lose on a slam dunk DUI, Jerkoff? Jake recalled Justin’s amusement. That asshole.
Lane won. A lot. And she did it all while looking like a gorgeous sex goddess. It was annoying. She pissed him off, but she also impressed him thoroughly. Watching her work, Jake developed quite the secret crush. Her tight skirts. Her smart mouth. He’d wanted to spank the smug look off of her face and replace it with a look of pure pleasure. He’d jumped at his chance to swoop in and have her at the Sioux Lodge. He couldn’t wait to have a repeat.
His visit today, though, had multiple purposes.
“Hey, Anne,” he said, trying a different tone with her. It was dripping in honey. “Can I speak with Ms. Bennett, darlin’?”
Anne was impervious to his charm.
“Go right on back. She’s expecting you and seems really excited about the prospect,” she rolled her eyes and smacked her gum.
He knew Anne was being sarcastic, but he didn’t give a shit. Jake walked right past her desk and into Lane’s office. Lane was thumbing through a folder with her feet kicked up on the desk. She didn’t acknowledge him right away, so it gave him time to look her up. And down. Damn.
Lane had curves in all the right places. Fiery red hair, the face of an angel, killer legs, and sexy-as-fuck leopard print shoes. She was short, but she worked it.
Jake’s mind raced to the image of Lane backed up against the door in the hotel room with her soft legs wrapped around his body as he held her up with his hands on her perfectly round ass while he slammed his cock in and out of her relentlessly.
She had moaned with pleasure so loudly that he had to shut her up with his mouth. Their tongues had intertwined only to be interrupted for gasps of air. The memory had his length stiffening and his pants bulging at the zipper.
Next time, those shoes were going to have to make an appearance.
“Hamilton!” Lane shouted.
Jake was jerked back into reality. “What?! Fuck, Red. No need to yell.”
“I asked ‘what’s up?’ twice, Jake. You didn’t respond.”
“Oh shit, really? I didn’t realize I was so lost in thought.”
“Well, you were. Can I help you with something?” She did not sound like she actually wanted to help him with anything but finding his way out of her office.
“You could help me with a couple things right now.” He let a sly smile cross his lips.
“I can see that.” Lane pointed toward his crotch with her pen. She did not seem impressed.
Well, shit. Jake snickered, “You caught me.”
“Reality check, Jake. It’s not going to happen, again. Ever. So what else do you need?”
She was already denying him and he hadn’t even gotten a chance to plead his case with her. Fuck. He'd figure that out later.
“Well, as much as I wish you didn’t have your mind set against helping me out personally, I wanted to talk to you about one of the cases coming up for arraignment today,” he s
aid in his professional “cop voice.” Everyone in the department had one.
“Jake, you know I can’t tell you anything. This is highly inappropriate,” Lane protested.
“I’m not asking for details, I’m just hoping you can pass this case to your other attorney.”
“I’m not one to pass the buck to Bob unless there’s a conflict of interest. I’m unaware of any current cases on the docket where I might be conflicted. What case is it?”
“Walters. He’s a cop killer. He-”
Lane put her hand up, “I hate to interrupt, but you need to stop talking right now. I’m taking this one. My choice. I've already spoken to him. There’s no way I’m going to hand Tom off to someone else. I’m going to do whatever I can to help him. Thats. My. Job.” Lane’s voice had an air of finality, pissing Jake off.