by Jodi Linton
“Let’s just hope we can get to him first,” I informed him. “See ya in an hour.”
As I hung up the phone, I hid the little black box on the dresser under my cowboy hat, praying Laney would say yes. Because I fucking needed her to be mine more than my next breath.
Chapter Twenty-One
Laney
The door to the bathroom swung open, and I turned—and almost died on the spot. There, hip leaning against the doorway, towel wrapped around his waist and chest dripping wet, was a man who knew exactly how to pull my heartstrings.
My hand immediately stalled mid–drawer pull. “Well, don’t you clean up nice.” I smiled as I rooted around and pulled out a pair of black fishnet stockings. Then, after allowing my gaze to roam the entire length of his sexy body, I sat on the edge of the bed.
The towel dropped and, holy cow, a half-mast dick wagged into view. “Are you sure you want to go through with this?” Gunner focused on me as he swaggered over to the dresser, found a pair of boxers, and picked up his cowboy hat to look underneath it. “If you want to stay home, Colt and I will understand.”
I rolled the stocking up my leg. “Toss me that black corset, will ya?”
He tugged on a pair of black boxers, face a hurricane of mixed emotions. “Marry me, Laney Briggs.”
Talk about whiplash.
With trembling fingers, I latched the stocking onto my black garter belt. “Run that by me again, cowboy.”
“Let me make an honest woman of you, sweetheart.” Gunner crossed in front of the bed and took to a knee. Pressure surrounded my heart as I stared at him on bended knee holding a diamond ring. “I should’ve done this a fucking long time ago.” His hand touched my thigh, and my pulse stammered inside my chest. “Whatever happens tonight, I need to know you said yes. That you agreed to be mine.”
I placed my hand over his and squeezed. Head swarming in a buzz of confusion from his earlier confessions as well as the idea that I was about to walk into Redbud’s humble abode with not one but two cowboys, dressed in a getup that would make even a streetwalker green with envy, I decided to give my guy the only other thing he desired more than solving this case. “Yes.” I winked, pulling his hand to my mouth. As I placed a kiss on his rough and callused knuckles, I added, “But I get to keep my name at the station.”
Gunner’s signature lazy, self-satisfied smile grew as he wrapped my face in both big hands and claimed my mouth in a knee-weakening kiss. Skimming my lips with his teeth, he finally broke the embrace, his thumb running softy down the side of my cheek. “You won’t regret taking my name. Well, at home, anyway.” He slid the ring on my left hand exactly where it should’ve been this whole time, whispering in a casual tone, “I just need you to understand that tonight you’ll see stuff that’ll make your eyes bug out.” He frowned. “Things that just thinking about makes me want to lose my shit.” The twinkle brightened. “And that’s why I asked Colt to be your escort.”
I touched his cheek. “Wow, never thought I’d witness the day you trusted another man to hold my hand.”
He laughed. “I might’ve threatened to hunt him down if he touched your ass.”
“Knew I could count on my bullheaded Texas Ranger,” I said with a wink.
“Finish getting dressed, because Colt should be here any minute.” He stood, bringing my hand to his lips just as the phone vibrated. He snatched it off the nightstand and looked at the screen. “Well, speak of the devil.” Gunner glanced down at the cell. “Colt texted he’s outside waiting.”
My hand fell fast on my lap as he stepped away and grabbed the tailored white shirt off the end of the bed and shrugged it on. His hand rooted around the top of the dresser, and I saw a flash of something black wiggle above his upper lip. When he turned back to face me I almost fell off the bed. Stuck above his mouth was a fake mustache. He could’ve passed as a younger version of Magnum P.I.
I pointed. “Testing out a new look?”
Gunner tugged at the mustache. “What, you don’t like a man with facial hair? I do believe I remember you asking if we could spark up the bedroom with a little role-playing.” He laughed, amusement glimmering beneath his golden irises. “Make sure to grab a coat. Not in the mood to have you giving Colt a free peep show just yet.”
And then he snatched the tie off the dresser and walked out the bedroom door. And I was left either wanting to crawl across the floor begging to be spanked or dying to wipe that smirk off his pretty-boy face.
Damn, that sexy man in a mustache could give Gunner a run for his money.
Gunner and Colt were standing out on the porch, and both the unruly men in my life looked up when I pushed through the screen door. Truth be told, the damn black garters holding up my stockings were more a pain in the ass than having two sexy cowboys undressing me under the smoke and mirrors of the night sky. I pinched the scoop neckline of my lacy black corset higher, concealing the girls, and indolently leaned a hip against the doorjamb. Maybe tonight wouldn’t be so bad. For starters, that crisp white button-down and blue tie slung around Gunner’s wide, muscular chest really got me humming. Not to mention the mustache was starting to grow on me. With my gaze drinking in the sexiest man I’d ever tangled up the sheets with, I shot them both a rustle-your-tail-feathers smile.
“Damn.” Colt whistled, catching my attention. “You ready to get your kink on, honey pie?”
“Not with a federal marshal,” I said to him. “Any news on Luke?”
Colt kicked a dirt pile with his boot as his gaze lifted upward. “Really think a rat would reach out to the law?”
Personally, no. But I knew Luke. Or I thought so. And that man never acted unless he had an ace up his sleeve.
I put my hand on the banister. Colt’s sandy brown hair was still wet from the shower, and he could’ve used a good morning shave. He’d thrown a T-shirt over his still damp chest and slung a pair of tight-ass Levi’s around his narrow hips. The way his belt hung low, showing off the solid, etched planes of that hardworking marshal torso, well, made me slightly wobbly.
I pulled my gaze up past his strong, masculine jaw and locked onto that pearly white smile beaming back at me. He had a hip cocked against the porch railing, and he’d slung an arm above his head, causing a lock of hair to fall down past his brows. Those painted-on jeans shifted an inch to the left. The move threw me off my rocker for a split second. I could see a butt load of immediate problems in my near-future plans.
Gunner tossed his empty beer bottle on the lawn. “Watch yourself, Colt.” The grin widened. “I just asked that one to marry me—and she said yes.” He winked and reached for my hand, rubbing his thumb over the diamond on my finger that held the “I thee wed” promise. His warm arm fastened around my waist, and his fingers hooked into the loop of my coat. “So I’ll have to kill ya if you step out of line around Laney.”
“Well, at least I get to have a little fun before she taints up that white dress.”
“I’m right here.” I glared at the hotheaded men. “And check the egos at the door, seeing how we are all fixing to hit up a swinger party.”
Colt slid a glance in Gunner’s direction. “Try to keep your head on straight, Wilson. I won’t let anything happen to Laney, okay?”
Something inaudible fell from my Texas Ranger’s lips.
I stared at both men. “Remember we all have one goal in mind,” I said to them. “Finding Luke—and stopping him before he screws us all over.”
Gunner planted a wet one on my forehead. “Guess that’s my cue.” He slapped me on the ass. “Y’all two play nice. And make sure to check in when you get there. I’ll meet you inside.” He rubbed his jaw, frowning, then before I could react, Gunner scooped me up in a comforting embrace, touching our mouths in a seductive dance that was slightly embarrassing due to the company at hand. His gaze narrowed as he peered over my shoulder. “Keep your hands, mouth, and dick to yourself, Colt.”
Then the guy I’d just agreed to spend the rest of my life with strutted across
the lawn to his black Yukon. I wasn’t sure how I felt about Gunner not issuing the same order for himself while at the party. Okay, I reckon it made me more than a little hot and bothered. Hell, my Texas Ranger—now sexy fiancé—had issues with muddying the truth. If I was going to marry the man, I guess I needed to learn to take him at his word. But shit. History always had a tendency to repeat itself.
“What about Gunner Wilson’s rules?” I blurted out, my words catching in the wind.
He turned around and dispassionately ran a hand over his face. “If I touch any chick not named Laney Briggs, I’m sure to have some bad blood with my fiancé come morning.”
I smiled. “Glad to know that you’ve finally seen the light, cowboy.”
“I had some growing pains.” He shrugged and opened the door to the Yukon.
Headlights washed the porch in a hazy glow as he backed away, leaving me to fend for myself around an I-can-cause-you-a-heap-of-trouble federal marshal. “You want me to show you some pointers for tonight?” Colt asked, interrupting my train of thought.
Stepping past the lawman, I gathered my trench coat tighter. “I’m pretty sure you’ll be the one needing some tips.”
His arm slipped around my waist, fingers edging toward my ass. “Maybe it’s time you teach me all your dirty little tricks, Briggs.”
I reached behind me and lifted his hand back to my waist. “That’s highly guarded intel, so you better just get used to the lube and pay-per-view Jenna Jameson.”
Colt raised a playful brow. “How did you know she’s my favorite?”
“Easy guess.” I shrugged.
He tipped the Stetson, grinning, then placed his mouth to my ear and said, “I hope you have something on under that coat.”
I glanced up at him. “I bet you’re just dying for a sneak peek.”
His fingers sank into my hip bone, gripping me tighter than a virgin princess’s chastity belt. “True. And I really need to know if I should be bringing a knife to the fight.”
“Tonight the only person you need to worry about is that rat bastard Redbud.”
Colt tugged me closer as he hustled us toward the Jeep. “Maybe I’m your biggest threat.”
I jerked open the passenger door and grabbed the oh-shit handle. “You might have a point there, cowboy.” Then I slid onto the cold leather seat.
It was highly unlikely, since my patience was disappearing quicker than a six-pack at a University of Texas tailgate. And tonight sparks were fixing to fly between a few old Pistol Rock rivals. This needed to be a quick in-and-out session before any partygoer saw our spots and called us out…airing a shitload of dirty laundry.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Laney
Perched high on top of a crisp grassy knoll overlooking a man-made pond, Danny Redbud’s all-you-can-fuck-buffet party was well underway and swinging.
We coasted up the narrow, winding drive and let the Jeep Wrangler idle outside a pink granite mansion. I glanced sideways at Colt. With his hand on the clutch and eyes locked straight ahead, he did not resemble the tactless cowboy I’d left the old farmhouse with a mere thirty minutes ago.
I began to untie the cloth belt cinching my trench coat together. “Look at me,” I ordered, fingers fumbling with the knotted tie. I definitely wasn’t as calm as I wanted or needed to be. When Colt continued to look straight ahead, I decided a different tactic would be more effective—slutty black lingerie coming right up. Letting the belt fall open, I quickly yet casually slipped the coat off my shoulders and tossed it on the floorboard. “Colt!” I hollered again. And this time he obeyed. And immediately he locked in on the black leather corset wrapped tightly around my titties. I sat there, taking in the harsh swallow feeding down a strong, tan neck. “What, you’ve never seen a bra before?” I tugged at my black garters and pulled my stockings into place.
“That’s not a bra, Laney,” he bit out, eyes alight with a newfound passion. “Damn, you can rock a corset.”
“Tonight it is,” I told him, releasing my hair from the butterfly clip that held it in a bun at the back of my head. My auburn hair blanketed my shoulders and back, rustling like pinpricks across my exposed skin. Colt let out an appreciative growl. I won’t deny it felt good. I turned to face him and placed a comforting hand over his. “We need to set a few ground rules, okay?”
He grimaced. “If by rules you mean that I’m supposed to let other men, or women, for that matter, touch you, well…that’s where I throw the towel in, darling,” he all but growled. “I might think you’re hot as hell, but I’m still a gentleman, and now that you’re tied at the hip to Gunner more than ever, I promised him I’d keep you safe.”
I squeezed his hand. “We’re gonna be asked to join people in private sex party rooms, correct?”
He gave me a simple nod, so I pressed on. “We have to make this believable so we can pass as a real couple.”
A dark glint shimmered in his clear gray eyes, sending a heated chill down my spine. I’d seen that lustful cowboy look before, and even though he was not a badass Texas Ranger, I was just as hot. “Tell me, Briggs. What’s our cover?” he rasped against my ear.
Gulping, I confirmed my actions tonight might change the path I’d set out on Christmas Eve with Gunner Wilson. I pursed my lips. “We’re newlyweds, and looking into the idea of swapping partners.” The heated look Colt shot me made my cheeks burn. “Don’t look at me like I’m the main attraction. I’ll have you know Gunner came up with our fake personas. If we’re unsure of dipping our toes into the swinger style and just window-shopping, well, that makes it less likely for you to grope me inside.”
Colt barked a laugh. Licking his lips, he pulled a tight smile and said, “I’m not going to fuck you in there, Laney,” his voice brittle and sounding more painful than a paper cut. “There’s no doubt about it that you are a very tempting lady, but I’m not much into sharing.” His gaze lingered, undeterred; sweat lined his brow. “Only-child syndrome.” He winked.
I let go of his hand and tried to pull my professional I’m-a-badass-sheriff’s-deputy mask back on. Still, my mouth trembled. “Don’t worry, you won’t get that far.” I pushed open the door and planted my red high heels on the brick driveway, and then turned back to glare at my friendly marshal. “Because once we make contact with Gunner, we’ll snuff out Redbud.”
He hopped down from Jeep and rounded the front fender, offering up a rough, callused hand for the taking. I gladly accepted it. “There’s a slight problem in that dang plan of yours, Laney Briggs.”
I sidled up next to him, my bare thighs brushing the harsh, stiff denim of his jeans. “Mind telling me what that would be?” I asked, catching a faint smile on his lips.
His hand rode down my hip, scorching my thighs and skimming the short hem of my black lace miniskirt before taking a pit stop on my ass. “Do you know anything about swinger parties?” He gave my butt cheek an amusing squeeze.
“Folks fuck.”
A slow, mischievous smile pulled at his mouth. “True. They do enjoy a good fuck.” His fingers skimmed tenderly down my cheek. “I hope you’re a damn good actress. We’ll have to kill an hour before meeting up with your Texas Ranger fiancé.”
I lifted up on the balls of my feet, wet my lips, and placed a soft kiss on his cheek. “No worries. You’ve been pretty good company so far.”
His hands aggressively grabbed my face as he held me in place an inch from that deadly cowboy mouth, then he threw me back against the Jeep’s hood. It shouldn’t have felt so damn good to have Colt take control of the situation. Maybe a minor problem I’d need to deal with at a later date. This casual throwdown was quickly boiling over into the danger zone. “Things have just gotten a lot more interesting.” His head dipped way too close, and when his mouth breezed against my chin and his teeth nipped my tender neck, I could’ve sworn I began to hallucinate about being saddle broken by a good-timing federal marshal. “God, you taste like the homemade apple pie my mother used to make on Christmas Day.”
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br /> My eyes widened as I stared trouble head-on. “I’m guessing that’s a good thing, right?”
His mouth formed a hard line. “A very good thing.”
My chin jutted up, knocking our mouths just close enough so I could breathe my marshal friend in, yet too far away to make that extra leap. Colt pulled away and took me by the hand. Then he ushered me toward the daunting pink granite mansion on top of the hill.
Let the sexual festivities begin.
Colt rang the doorbell and glanced at me, a grim smile flashing across his handsome face. He squeezed my hand and scooted a boot under the porch lamp bleeding a foggy glow across the Texas limestone entryway.
I squeezed back. “Time to put that charming cowboy attitude of yours to work.”
“Laney Briggs, you have no idea the type of trouble you’re fixing to let into your life.”
“You can’t scare me out of going through with this,” I said, my voice a faint whisper against my jackhammering heart rate.
His hand inched around my wrist, and then he yanked at my arm, fisting me firmly against the solid wall of his chest. Voice low and deep, penetrating the warmth that had taken up home between my thighs, Colt stated matter-of-factly, “God, you’re fucking gorgeous when that cute little face of yours gets pissed off. That Texas Ranger is one lucky bastard.”
Goose bumps flashed across my skin, and the hot swallow pressing at the back of my throat was slowly closing my airway. “You always did bring out the best in me.”
He smiled, and those wrinkles growing around his tormented gray eyes promised an evening of sin. “I think my cock just inflated.”
A sudden burst of pain stabbed me in the chest. What I was about to do—no, what we intended on going through with—was so wrong. But if I didn’t at least attempt to play friendly with the marshal, Luke, the dumbass, would more than likely see his head on Redbud’s chopping block. God knew the rancher had blood on his hands, but this time around his hands were clean, and I enjoyed getting dirty more than I enjoyed a day off from work.