by Becky McGraw
Trace moaned and his fingers curled into his palms, as he fought to hold off the orgasm building inside of him. Because he couldn’t help himself, when she started back up his length, his hips followed her. He felt her smile as he heard the pop when she released him. Her hand stroked him as she met his eyes. “Like that?”
“Oh, yeah,” he growled, working his hips in time with her hand.
“Then start talking,” she said with an arrogant smile.
She ran her thumb under the ridge of his sensitive head, and another tremor rocked him. This was a twist. He couldn’t think, how the hell was he supposed to talk? And what did she expect him to say? “Talk?”
“Yeah, you tell me what I want to know. Everything, Trace. And I keep doing what I’m doing. That’s our deal,” she said and ran her tongue around her lips. His eyes followed the path of her tongue, and his lips tingled to taste her.
He said he wasn’t going to kiss her, but Trace might have to reconsider that decision. Now that he knew how talented those lips were. He could just imagine licking, sucking and biting them, while he shoved up into her delicious body. “You expect me to tell you now? While you’re doing that?” he asked gruffly.
Ronnie held his eyes and lowered her head to run her tongue along the vein under his cock, trailing it up to the top. Trace groaned loudly, and she glanced up and gave him another smile. “Yep. I don’t trust you to tell me afterward. If I like what you say, I promise you’ll like what I do.”
Trace was having a hard time focusing on anything except her mouth as it moved with her words. “I’ll tell you everything you want to know after you finish.”
“No, you’ll tell me now,” she insisted and her hand stopped moving. His heart took a few odd leaps in his chest. “Deal?” she asked meeting his eyes. Trace nodded, and she laughed as she began stroking him again. “Start with Leigh Ann Baker.”
He wondered if this was a normal part of her interrogation practice with her clients. If it was, it would certainly be effective. Trace started talking. “She’s not dead. I delivered her to the feds when Ray Brown was going to kill her,” he said and sucked in a breath when Ronnie’s mouth closed over him again. “Oh, god,” he groaned when she gently dragged her teeth up to his head. Her other hand cupped his balls and squeezed, and Trace’s heart went out of control. His breathing was short and uneven, as he continued, “I was working with the feds at the ranch. That’s why I go—oh, god,” he groaned again when she swirled her tongue over him. “That’s why I was released early,” he finished breathlessly.
Her hand at his base moved with her mouth, and Trace could barely breathe. Ronnie stopped and Trace balanced on the cliff of a monumental release. “What do you want to know?” he growled, gritting his teeth.
“Leland,” Ronnie said shortly, looking up at him.
Trace groaned and closed his eyes. “I can’t talk about him while you do that.”
“Sure you can,” she said smoothly, before her lips closed over his head and she sucked him hard. Shock shot up his body, as the pressure of her hand released and she took him into her mouth deep. Her hot mouth moved over him as she sucked him. His brain was steeped in pleasure so intense he almost took a flying leap off the cliff he had been teetering on. But she pulled back again and released him. “Talk,” she said.
His eyes fell on her hand, which was still now and wrapped around his engorged cock. At this point, Trace would tell her anything she wanted to know if she would just shove him off that cliff. “Leland got me the job at the ranch when I got out.”
“What part did Leland play in you being in jail?” she demanded, moving her hand on his cock, but holding his eyes. If Trace knew now what his suggestion to her at that jail would result in, he probably wouldn’t have made it. At the time he thought it was funny. It wasn’t so funny now. What the Shark Lady had done was turn the tables on him.
Now, she was in control, and if he wanted her to finish what she started, he was going to have to tell her what she wanted to know. And he wanted to come so badly right now, if he didn’t know the answers, he would probably make them up.
Trace decided to try and take back a little control. “For what you’ve done so far, I’ve told you enough,” he said, trying to keep his tone even. “What else you got, Red?”
Her eyebrows lifted and she smiled then released him. He thought she was done with her game and disappointment shot through him, but then her fingers trembled a little as they went to the buttons of her shirt. She held his eyes as she slowly unfastened each one. When she got to the bottom button, she shoved the shirt off of her shoulders and let slide down her arms. In the center of her full bare breasts, the prettiest he’d ever seen, her nipples stood at attention. Trace licked his lips, as his mouth watered to taste her.
“How’s that?” she asked with a knowing smile. Ronnie cupped her breasts and pinched her nipples, and Trace almost came just from the visual stimulation.
She knew what she was doing to him. “I’ve seen better,” he said arrogantly. “Had better,” he challenged. Which was a damned lie. This woman was as hot and uninhibited as any woman he’d ever been with.
Her smile fell and anger lit her brown eyes. “Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah,” he barely managed to say as she grabbed his cock firmly. Ronnie moved to his side to sit on the sofa.
Her lips twisted as she said, “Well, let’s see if I can do better.” He held his breath as she leaned over his thigh. Her full breasts and hard nipples rubbed his leg, as she placed her lips on the underside of his dick near the bottom. Her tongue flicked over the vein there and Trace trembled. Suddenly, her lips pinched him there, and she sucked hard. Trace’s hips shot toward her mouth.
Holding the pressure, Ronnie slowly moved along his length to the top pulling his orgasm along with her lips. She nipped him at the top with her teeth and Trace could barely breathe. Her hot breath fanned his skin as she hovered over him. Anticipation sizzled along his nerve endings. “Finish it,” he said weakly. “I’m almost there.”
“Finish your story and I will,” she countered, her eyes hard when they met his. Ronnie backed away and anger surged through him. This was what amounted to sexual torture, and he wasn’t going to put up with it anymore.
Trace fisted his cock and pumped. To his surprise, Ronnie smiled. Holding his eyes, she stood to release the snap on her shorts, before she unzipped them. They slithered down her long legs and she stepped out of them. She sat on the coffee table in front of him then put her feet on the edge of the sofa on the outside of his knees, exposing the pretty pink folds between her legs to him. He could see moisture glistening there, which ramped up his need. He groaned and leaned back, stroking himself faster. Trace could feel that warm wetness on his dick, even though he wasn’t inside of her.
“Touch yourself,” he growled through clenched teeth.
“Like this?” she asked softly, as she slid her hand between her legs.
He watched her fingers move over her bud and Trace had never seen anything more erotic in his life. He was so close to coming, he felt like the top of his head was about to explode. She dipped a finger inside herself and gasped. It shined with her juices when she pulled it out and she raised it to her mouth and circled her lips with her finger, before sucking it inside.
“Mmm…” she moaned, as she met his eyes and slowly drew it back out of her mouth. The sound traveled through his body and Trace’s balls tightened, as he teetered on the edge of his release. Trace felt shorted, because he wanted to taste her too.
“Come over here and kiss me,” he ordered.
Ronnie shook her head, and put her hand back between her legs to massage herself again. “You don’t like to kiss, remember?” she teased, as her hand strummed her body faster, obviously knowing what she was doing to him.
Her glittering eyes, short breaths and the pulse pounding in her throat told him how close she was to an orgasm herself. After a few more circles on her body, Ronnie’s eyes widened, and she bit her lower l
ip. Her face contorted then her head fell forward as she moaned loudly, and her body shook violently. Her mewls as she rode out her orgasm were the final straw.
Trace’s muscles seized, he erupted with a roar, and his own body shook as hard as hers had as he found his release. Spent, he rested back against the sofa breathing hard. He was definitely less tense, but not nearly satisfied yet. He needed to feel her body wrapped around his.
“Get over here,” Trace said roughly, as he opened his eyes to look at her.
Ronnie laughed snidely. “You didn’t live up to your end of our deal.”
Trace tensed and sat up. He met her eyes. “Get. Over. Here.”
Ronnie swallowed hard, and fought the urge to do what he asked. She got up, but she didn’t step toward him. “It would have been so much better if you’d have just played the game.”
Trace sat up straighter. He pulled his t-shirt over his head then cleaned himself up with it, before tossing it aside. “Sit on my lap and kiss me,” he ordered brusquely, and leaned back against the sofa as if waiting for her to decide.
Her eyes raked his solid body, and she could see anger in every tense line. It practically poured off of him. Ronnie wasn’t scared though. She was thrilled. Maybe that anger would make him forget he hated her for a minute. Ronnie gnawed her lower lip then finally knelt on the sofa. Disappointment filled her when he didn’t make a move to touch her. His hands rested beside his thighs on the sofa.
“Straddle me,” he said shifting himself lower. “Take my cock inside of you and kiss me. You like to pleasure yourself. Do it.”
Ronnie’s insides were still quivering from her self-induced orgasm, and she wanted to feel his stretch. Needed to feel him. She shifted to straddle him, then positioned him at her opening, and shivered as her oversensitive flesh met his hardness. Gyrating her hips, she enjoyed the sensation until his fingers dug into her hips.
“There’s a condom in my wallet,” Trace growled. “Get it and put it on me.”
“I’m clean, and on birth control. I was just tested.”
“I was in prison, Red,” Trace said, and shock shot through her.
Ronnie hadn’t thought about that, and it was definitely something she should have considered. Her movements stilled. “You didn’t.” Trace was about as masculine and heterosexual as a man could be. She couldn’t imagine him allowing that. Unless—sickness pushed up her throat, as she asked, “They didn’t…”
“They tried, but no,” he said dragging his eyes away from hers. “That’s why I was in isolation and the weight room most of my vacation.”
Disgust at her part in his imprisonment and guilt combined inside of her to settle like a heavy lead weight in her chest. Her selfishness had cost Trace his dignity along with two years of his life. If Ronnie had known then that he would get prison time, she wouldn’t have recommended he accept the plea deal. But that didn’t excuse it. She put her hands on his tightly muscled shoulders and leaned in for a tentative kiss. Electricity sizzled along her nerve endings when her lips met his. His fingers dug into her hips, and his tongue flicked out to slowly circle her mouth.
“Salty,” he murmured, and his voice vibrated through her mouth. His tongue took another trip around her lips then he sucked her lower lip into his mouth. Ronnie moaned, as a tremor rocked her.
“Trace, I know it doesn’t mean anything, but I really am sorry for my part in what happened,” she whispered over his lips then kissed him once more.
Trace sat motionless and didn’t acknowledge her words. With a huffed breath, Ronnie sat back. He was never going to forgive her, but at least she’d said the words her conscience insisted she voice. Twice now. A record for her. Suddenly his hand shot out and he gripped the back of her skull and pulled her mouth to his for a hard kiss.
Gripping her hair by the roots, he pulled her head away from him and met her eyes. “Open your mouth, Red,” he commanded in an angry voice. “Wrap your legs around me and fuck me. You remember how to fuck me don’t you? You did it so well in that courtroom, just move and I’m sure it’ll come back to you.”
Ronnie didn’t move. Trace’s left hand slid up her side over her waist, until he cupped her breast in his palm. He pinched her nipple and Ronnie gasped. His dark angry eyes met hers. “You started this, now finish it,” he grated.
Yeah, Ronnie had started this. And it was fine as long as she was controlling how things went. Trace was in control now. And He was using her. Ronnie definitely wasn’t one to let herself be used. Especially by men. The shoe was usually on the other foot there.
He wrapped his other arm around her back and jerked her to him. His hot mouth closed over her nipple and he sucked hard. Ronnie screamed as pleasure shot through her. She felt the tug of his mouth between her legs and her inner muscles clenched. She got wetter if that was possible. Her breathing came in short spurts, and her heart felt like it wanted out of her chest, as he continued to suck her.
She grasped the sides of his head and pushed him away. Her voice was raw, as she said, “No, not like this.”
“What’s your flavor then, Ronnie? You want it doggie style? Or maybe in the ass? I can do either,” he said with a dark laugh. “You want to be spanked?” he asked with a dark laugh. “I could definitely get into that.” His voice was cold, calculating. Matter of fact. This was sex. There would be no softness or connection. That’s usually how Ronnie preferred it too. But not this time, with the anger she heard behind Trace’s words.
“I don’t want to be used,” she said as she scrambled off of his lap. This was about revenge for him.
“What were you doing to me?” Trace asked with a short laugh. He shoved a shaky hand through his hair, then put his hand behind his head to lean against the back of the sofa and glare at her. “Your teasing get out of hand, Red?”
Ronnie had no idea what she was doing. She wanted him to talk to her, and figured her offer would be just shocking enough for him to do that. And she had enjoyed controlling him. Now that he had taken that away from her, she didn’t like it so much. Earlier the drugs had made her too loose to think about it. And horny. She wanted him then, and she didn’t care why or how she had him.
“I’m going upstairs to take a shower and get dressed. I’ll fix us dinner when I come back down,” she offered.
“You cook?” he asked incredulously, then leaned over to pick his pants up off of the floor. Trace looked at her with not an ounce of emotion in his eyes. It was over just that quick for him. Ronnie was an emotional mess inside. She needed to get away from him for a few minutes to sort herself out. Get back in control.
“Yeah, I took classes with Conner.”
“How nice,” he said, as he stood. His movements were jerky as he stepped into his pants, shoved himself inside and zipped them. “I learned to cook on kitchen detail in prison, so I’ll make us something. Don’t expect more than shit on a shingle or oatmeal though.”
Ronnie cringed. That was an old timer’s term for chipped beef in gravy on bread. Carb city, and disgusting to boot. “Um, I saw some fish in the freezer earlier. I’ll make us something when I come back down,” she insisted then crossed her arms over her bare chest. “Unless you’re partial to eating shit.”
He shrugged his broad shoulders. “It’s been my mainstay for three years. Doesn’t matter to me.”
Another mattress of guilt plopped down on the bed she had made for herself. She could still feel that hard pea underneath poking her in the ass when she laid on it. She needed to find that pea and remove it. It had been there for three years now. It was time.
Determination filled her. He might not ever forgive her, but Ronnie would make it up to Trace for causing him to spend time in jail he didn’t deserve. She would find out who was involved in the conspiracy to send him to jail and expose them. When Conner brought those files to her day after tomorrow, she would go through them with a fine-tooth comb. There had to be some clue there.
Once she satisfied her conscience, Ronnie would get as far away from
this emotionally damaged man as she could get. Trace Rooks was not the same man he’d been before he went to prison. And she didn’t hold out much hope now that he would ever get back there. Even if she did clear his name. He had lost too much. It had been too long.
“On second thought, I’m not very hungry. I’ll just see you in the morning,” she said and turned toward the stairs.
CHAPTER NINE
Ronnie was in the kitchen the next morning making herself some toast, when someone knocked at the front door, then rang the doorbell loudly. A little fear shot through her. She was alone in the house, and had no idea how to use the shotgun in the corner of the foyer by the door. Trace wasn’t anywhere in the house when she woke up this morning.
“A bad guy wouldn’t knock, right?” she reasoned with herself, but then remembered Ray Brown and his men had knocked at that house yesterday. She dropped her toast onto the saucer and wiped her hands on her shorts. Taking a deep breath she headed toward the front door. Her eyes snagged on the shotgun in the corner by the door.
She might not know how to use it, but she could scare the crap out of whoever was outside with it. When she picked it up, it was heavier than she imagined. Tucking the gun stock into her armpit, she grabbed the knob, and threw the door open, then stepped back and grabbed the barrel to point it at the door.
Her eyes met Seth Copeland’s surprised blue eyes. He put his hands up and laughed. “Don’t shoot, Annie.” His eyes slid over her body to her toes then back to the gun. He reached in and pushed the barrel toward the floor. “Just a piece of advice…you have to put one finger on the trigger to make this thing work.”
Ronnie’s breath came out in a rush. “I’d have to beat you to death with it, because I’m not sure where the trigger is,” she admitted.