Trouble With the Law

by Becky McGraw

  "It's okay, Red. You'll feel better in the morning."

  "So thirsty," she said again. If Ronnie didn't know better, she'd think she hadn't had a thing to drink in months. And she felt like red ants were swimming in her veins. They were biting her under her skin and she itched. Trace laid her on the bed, pulled the sheet over her body, then kissed her forehead. It was an awfully sweet gesture from a man who hated her, she thought. And he smelled so damned good. Ronnie was glad Trace was here with her. She was also damned thankful he had gotten her away from that ranch. She had no idea how he had accomplished that, but she was grateful. Lord knew what would have happened to her if he hadn’t stepped in to save her. "Thank you," Ronnie said weakly.

  "I'll get you some more water," he said, as he turned and left the room.

  Trace stopped to grab the remote and turn on the TV on his way to the kitchen. He needed to watch the news to see if the feds had put the word out to the media about them. If that had happened, there wasn't going to be a lot of places they could hide. Someone would see them, and report the sighting. Ronnie needed to get better fast, so they could get on the move before that happened. If it hadn't already.

  Seth had left an hour ago and was going to do some digging. He said he would call if he heard anything. He was also going to try to find them somewhere safer to stay. Sarah had gone to her mother's for the night, but she would need to come home tomorrow. Trace did not want to put her in danger, and that is exactly what he would be doing if they stayed here, especially after the media got in on the action. It wouldn't be long before Ray Brown or the feds found them.

  Trace got a fresh glass down from the cabinet and filled it with water, then walked back to the bedroom. Ronnie was sitting up in the bed clawing herself. She looked at him with desperate eyes. "Oh, god—help me!" she said with a groan. "I need a bath, or an electric sander!"

  Trace walked over and handed her the glass of water. "Drink this," he ordered, and she took it from him. Like it was another hit of heroin and she was an addict, she drank it down greedily. Thank god she wasn't an addict. Tomorrow, the effects of the drug would be gone, and Ronnie would probably be her old bitchy self. And they'd be right back where they started. He knew how to deal with that woman. This needy woman who was looking to him for help? Not so much.

  When she emptied the glass, he took it from her and put it on the night stand. Holding his hand out to her, he asked, "You think you can walk?"

  Ronnie nodded, then slid to the edge of the bed. She tried to stand and her legs wobbled. With a sigh, Trace leaned down and scooped her up again then carried her to the bathroom. There was no way she was going to be able to stand to shower. If he put her in the tub alone, she'd probably fall asleep and drown herself.

  Fuck.

  He was either going to have to hold her up in the shower, or get into the tub with her. Neither option held much appeal, because that meant he was going to have to hold her while she was naked again. And even though he hadn’t been trying to look, he couldn’t help but notice that those curves her prissy suits hinted at were definitely in all the right places. Ronnie Winters had a smoking hot body. And Trace Rooks hadn’t had sex in three years. A bad combination in the condition she was in right now.

  Somehow, he was going to have to do this clinically, he thought as he carried her into the bathroom. Not notice the fact that her body was so perfect, she could've been a porn star. A tall order, since he was already feeling the effects of carrying her naked twice now. Trace sucked in a sharp breath as her body raked over his as he set her feet on the floor. He was itching as badly as she was, but for a different reason, he thought as his hands went to his belt.

  "What are you doing?" she asked with a tremble in her voice as she grabbed the counter to sit on the toilet.

  "You said you wanted a bath. I'm just making sure you don't drown yourself."

  "I can do it myself!" she said, stronger than he'd heard her in hours. She lifted her chin, but then her eyelids fluttered shut and her shoulders slumped. "Maybe I can't," she admitted in a defeated voice. Her fingers went to her thighs and she smiled as she ran her nails up and down her thighs leaving red trails behind. "I need a bath."

  "I know," Trace said as he dropped his jeans to the floor. He pushed down his underwear, then pulled his t-shirt over his head. He needed a shower too, but ideally he would have had that alone. In the state he was in, this was the worst idea in the world. He leaned over the tub and turned on the spigot.

  "Anyone ever tell you that you have the most delicious ass on earth?" Ronnie said with a laugh. Trace turned back toward her, her eyes locked onto his erection, and he got harder. "Damn," she said and licked her lips.

  "Up here, Ronnie," he growled as he grabbed her arm and pulled her up to her feet.

  She put her palms on his chest, and her eyes met his. When she slid them up his chest and around his neck, Trace groaned. Her knees went weak again and her full breasts pressed to into his chest. Trace caught her hips to keep her from falling, but his hands involuntarily moved to her round ass. He kneaded her, because he always wondered what she would feel like under his palms. This would probably be the only chance he would have to find out.

  "Why'd you go out to that ranch, Ronnie?" he asked.

  "Had to warn you," she said rubbing her cheek against his chest. She kissed his pec then his collarbone, and desire shot through him. "Bad stuff going on out there. Feds are investigating," she said groggily, as she kissed his shoulder.

  His hands tightened on her ass. "I'm an ex-con, Ronnie. Just like the men working out there. I know exactly what was going on out there. I work there, remember?"

  She lifted her head and met his eyes. Her eyes were intense, her voice convicted as she said, "You are not an ex-con, you are a cop who got a raw deal. Because of me."

  That wasn't a news flash. But Ronnie Winters had no idea who he was now. Trace was not the same man he had been three years ago. He could have easily been just as bad as everyone in the world thought he was. Ronnie should have realized that and stayed as far away from him as she could. "You don't know me, Red. I could be knee deep in all that bad stuff going on out there. It was stupid for you to come to that ranch."

  "I have to fix what I did," she slurred. "Didn't want you to get in trouble again."

  Trace's heart kicked in his chest. This was his chance. He was an asshole for asking while she was under the influence, but yeah, he was an asshole. "What did you do, Ronnie?"

  "Wanted that promotion. I'm so sorry," she said then went still.

  The sound of the water running penetrated his focus on the woman in his arms. Quickly, he twisted and shut off the tap. "Wake up, Red," he said and gently slapped her cheek. She opened her eyes and smiled up at him dreamily.

  Trace stepped into the tub, then pulled Ronnie in with him. He sat and settled her on top of him. She snuggled her face into the crook of his neck. He grabbed a loofah from the edge of the tub and squeezed bath gel onto it. The quicker he could get this done, the quicker he could get himself out of the sexual hell he had just gotten himself into. Ronnie kissed his neck, and cupped his face with her hand.

  "Kiss me," she whispered, craning her neck so her lips were close to his. Too close.

  Trace's lips tingled as her warm breath brushed them. He turned his face away. "I can't," he growled and scrubbed her thigh with the loofah under the water. "Just be still."

  Ronnie moaned, his hand stopped and he felt that sound all the way down to his toes. Her eyes drifted shut, and her face looked like he thought it would when she came.

  "Don't stop," she said breathlessly. "That feels so good."

  Sexual hell, Trace thought, as he slid the sponge up to her hip, and moved it over her stomach. He switched hands and repeated the process on the other side of her body. The longer he worked the loofah, the louder her moans became, and the more restless her butt became on his painful hard-on.

  You could just slip inside of her and put yourself out of this misery, the devil
on his shoulder suggested. Instead he clamped a hand on her thigh to hold her still for a minute so he could get himself under control.

  "Wash my breasts," she invited in a raw whisper, as her hand closed over his on her thigh. Trace didn't move, and she gripped his hand tighter. "Please, Trace."

  Fuck it. He dropped the loofah in the water and slid his hand up her wet body to cup her breast and she moaned loudly. "Touch me," she begged arching into his hand.

  This woman was a walking wet dream. One he'd fantasized about having a lot while he was in jail. His fantasies weren't soft and gentle though. They had been him teaching her a lesson for what she'd done to him. Right now though, revenge was the last thing on his mind. What he wanted to do was find relief from what was quickly becoming unbearable pain. Drugged or not, she was pushing every button to break him.

  How the hell was a man supposed to resist this? Especially one who really hadn't had sex in three years. Trace wasn't that strong, that was for sure, he thought as he moved his other hand between her legs. With a mewl, Ronnie spread her thighs wider, and lifted her hips toward his hand.

  "You're going to hate me tomorrow," he grated and sucked in a breath as his fingers brushed over her hot flesh. Trace knew he was going to hate himself. Getting into this tub with her had been a very bad idea, but he was too far gone to stop.

  "No—don't stop!" she said angrily.

  "Are you sure, Red?" he asked giving her a way out. She didn't know what she was saying, and he felt like a total dick for taking advantage of her condition.

  "I've been wanting to fuck you for almost four years! Yes, I'm sure!" she hissed as she reached between them to take him into her hand. Every muscle in his body tensed as she fit him at her opening. Her soft heat pressing against his head, her hot hand wrapped around him was too much. Trace was going to explode if she didn't slow down.

  "Wait, Red," he grated through clenched teeth as he covered her hand with his. "Just relax." Her hand loosened around him and he brought it to his mouth to kiss her palm then took a couple of deep breaths to regain control.

  Ronnie eased her body down in the water. He resettled her back against his front and slicked both of his hands up her ribcage to cup her breasts and she sighed. He kissed the side of her face, then down her neck, as he gently moved his thumbs over her hardened nipples. Ronnie Winters tasted as good as he thought she would. Better. Spicy, heady, and as addictive as the drug they had injected into her veins earlier. He sucked the soft skin of her neck and she mewled.

  "Make me come, Trace," she begged in a raspy voice. "My insides itch."

  It was the drugs, not him, making her itch, Trace knew that. But he sure as hell didn't mind scratching that itch for her. He'd been itching to be inside of her for four years too. The time was at hand, and he wasn't wasting a minute of it.

  Grabbing her hips, he settled her over him then thrust upward into her wet warmth. Ronnie howled his name, and her fingers dug into the flesh of his thighs. He gripped her hips as he fought for control again. She was like a warm wet fist around his cock. He held her tighter, because if she moved an inch, he was going to come. He wanted to make it good for her too first. She relaxed a little and settled her back against his chest, and he sighed.

  "My god, no wonder those women were chasing you," she said breathlessly. "I would have chased you too, if I knew how good you'd feel inside of me."

  Trace would have let her catch him too, if he knew how incredible fucking her would be. It would have been worth the scratch marks on his back from the fight he knew would be required to make that happen. The Shark Lady would not have been an easy catch, unless she was drugged like she was now.

  Guilt shot through him, but he shoved it back down. This woman had cost him two years of his life. He shouldn't feel an ounce of guilt for taking advantage of her. But dammit, he did. "Ronnie, I think we should stop."

  Her body tensed, and her face snapped back so she could look at him. "Are you kidding me?" she squealed.

  "You're only doing this because of the drugs," he said.

  "No, I'm doing this, because I want you," she hissed as she gyrated her hips in small circles. "And I want to come," she groaned as she leaned back against him and shoved her hand between her legs. Her body clamped around him and Trace was stunned.

  The woman was going to bring herself to orgasm, and all he had to do was sit back and watch, feel the incredible pulsations of her body around his cock. A very new experience for him. No woman he'd been with had ever taken control of her own pleasure.

  It was damned hot.

  Trace didn't want to interrupt her, but he felt like he should at least help, so he cupped her breasts and pinched her nipples. Ronnie let out a low gurgling sound that almost brought him to climax himself. "God, those sounds you make turn me on," he growled near her ear, as he abraded her nipples with his thumbs.

  Her fingers brushed his cock under the water while she pleasured herself. Trace's body jerked, he sucked in a sharp breath and grabbed her hips. Her inner muscles pulsated around him in time with her fingers. His orgasm built in his balls and his body tensed, but he held it off. Thank god the tub was an over-sized one. Between his bulk, and her length, they filled it from end to end, side to side. He took the slow slide of her body, as she rose off of him then eased back down as long as he could. He needed more.

  “Get on your knees, Ronnie,” he said gruffly and lifted her off of him.

  She gasped then leaned forward to brace her hands on the edge of the tub. Her beautiful ass was right there in his face. He cupped the globes and kneaded the slick, smooth skin. She moaned, and arched her back giving him a view of her pink folds. The sound and the sight pushed him over the edge. He grabbed the sides of the tub and muscled himself up to his knees and settled behind her.

  He put his hands on her hips then leaned in to warn, "Put on your seatbelt, baby."

  In one motion, Trace pulled her back against him and thrust forward to bury himself in her warmth. Her body tensed and she made a high pitched wailing sound as her inner muscles spasmed around him. The sound she made almost sounded like a high note to a song. Her music danced along Trace's spine increasing his pleasure.

  She pushed her butt back against him to take the last inch of him inside of her, and sighed. "I can't believe I waited four years for this," she said in a raw voice.

  "You didn't have to," Trace said gruffly, drawing his hips back to plunge inside her again. The water sloshed over the edge of the tub, just like the waves of unbelievable pleasure crashed over him.

  "I did have to," she panted. "But I thought about it, about you, a lot," she admitted. "I made myself come many nights thinking about this. But reality is definitely better."

  Hearing that sent Trace over the edge. With a growl he buried himself in her body to the hilt, then leaned around her to find her center. Water rippled over the rim of the tub as he straddled her calf, and took short strokes inside her body, while he massaged her. Feeling his orgasm creeping closer, Trace leaned over her and sank his teeth into her shoulder then sucked her sweet skin.

  Ronnie mewled her pleasure and he knew she was close too. When she gasped, and her inner muscles tensed around him, Trace lengthened his strokes. Tremors shook her body inside and out. He straightened, grabbed her hips then made a final long stroke into her body and his body became liquid heat, as every muscle seized and he roared his release.

  Trace's brain was swimming in endorphins when his heart finally bounced back into his chest and his breathing slowed. Ronnie, still on her knees in front of him, was breathing hard too. He glanced at the bathroom floor and laughed. "I think there's more water on the floor than in the tub now," he said.

  "That's because it all evaporated," Ronnie replied hoarsely.

  With a chuckle, he wrapped his arm around her waist and hugged her. He kissed her shoulder where he could see a love bruise quickly forming, then stepped out of the tub. He held his hand out to her. "C'mon," he said.

  "I can't move," Ro
nnie said and a shiver passed through her, as she rested back on her haunches, still breathing hard. He hoped the combination of sex and the drugs hadn't overstressed her heart. He hadn't even thought about that.

  Worry gripped him, as he grabbed her arms and turned her to sit in the tub. Putting his hand to her face, he knelt beside the tub. "Open those beautiful brown eyes and look at me, Red," he said.

  "You like my shit brown eyes?" she asked and opened them to look at him with a grin. Relief shot through him.

  "They make me want a shot of whiskey," Trace replied with a smile and stroked her cheek with his thumb.

  "So, you're saying I make you want to drink?" she volleyed with a laugh. "I've been told by several men I have that effect on them."

  "You don't scare me."

  "Then I must not be doing my job," she said smartly.

  Trace had never been happier to see the return of that razor-sharp wit and tongue. "Glad to see you're feeling better."

  "Much better," she said then lifted an eyebrow. "How about you?"

  "Never felt better," he said with a chuckle. "But we need to eat, and you need to rest. We're leaving in the morning."

  Trace got up and pulled towels from the cabinet to mop up the water on the floor. He made a path with them to the doorway, so she didn't slip on the wet tile. "Up and at em, sweet cheeks," he said when he turned back toward the tub.

  Ronnie's chin rested on her fist on the edge of the tub, and her eyes were fixed on his dick. Which meant they must've been on his ass while he was facing the doorway. Unbelievably, heat shot to his groin and his body let him know he was ready for round two.

  Too bad his mind wasn't on board with that. Round one shouldn't have happened.

  "Stop it, Red," Trace said with a frustrated sigh.

  "Stop what?" she asked innocently, but her gaze remained where it was.

  "Stop looking at my dick like you want to have me for dinner."