by Becky McGraw
“Yeah,” she said in a raw whisper and clamped her knees together to soothe the ache at her core.
I’ll track you down and spank your ass until you beg me to fuck you.
His words to her at the jailhouse played back in her mind. She pinched him, and she supposed that was the equivalent of biting him, like she had threatened. This was her punishment. But she wasn’t going to beg him to fuck her. She wanted to, but her pride wouldn’t let her. When she had done that the other night he rejected her. She wasn’t about to give him the opportunity to do that again.
Trace had gotten his retribution for her naughtiness, now it was time for her get out of here. If he wanted to deal with the problem digging into her hip, he could do that on his own. “Let me up now. I have stuff to do, and this isn’t my thing,” she said pushing up on her toes and the edge of the bed, trying to stand.
Trace was quiet, and he didn’t stop kneading her ass. He gently pushed her back down across his lap. Ronnie gasped and a shiver coursed through her when he stopped kneading to run a finger down the seam between her cheeks. He lightly brushed his finger over her anus and that shiver turned into a tremor. He stopped for a second, then made another pass there with his finger, and she quivered again. Ronnie couldn’t stop the little moan that slipped past her vocal chords, but she fought the urge to raise her ass toward him and beg for more.
“Oh, baby—that’s good news,” he drawled, as he moved his finger lower to slide it into her folds. “You’re wet, Red,” he said as he slid that finger the length of her slit. He gathered some of the moisture there by making a quick dip into her opening on the way back up and Ronnie shivered. “You like this and want me to fuck you don’t you?” he said smoothly. “Ask for it, Red.”
Yes she wanted that more than she wanted her next breath. But Ronnie was not going to voice those words to him. She needed more than this from Trace Rooks. She didn’t just want him to fuck her. She wanted him to make love to her. To show her he wanted something more than to use her again. Ronnie needed to know this was more than about revenge or getting his rocks off with a convenient, willing woman. It was odd, because she’d never needed that before with any other man she had been with. But she needed it now for some reason.
Trace circled her anus, spreading her moisture there, and Ronnie tightened her cheeks, fighting the urge to push up against him. “No. Let me up,” she said breathlessly.
He paused and she felt his body stiffen too. “Don’t lie, Red. You want me.”
“I’m not saying I don’t. But not like this.”
“You don’t like this?” he asked with uncertainty in his tone, as he moved his arms so she could stand.
“I didn’t say that either,” she said with a huffed breath. She smoothed her skirt around her thighs and looked into his eyes. “I want more than a revenge fuck. If you can’t give me that, then there won’t be any fucking.”
“I forgive you,” he said quickly. “I see how hard you’re working to clear my name. Even if you don’t succeed, I forgive you. This isn’t about revenge.”
Ronnie’s heart leapt in her chest, and she put her hand there. Hearing him say that was unexpected. What was more unexpected was the softening she saw in his brown eyes.
“What is it about then?” she asked evenly.
He laughed and dragged his eyes from hers. “I told you what would happen if you bit me. I always keep my word.”
“I didn’t bite you. And you taunted me,” she accused.
His eyes flew back to hers and he laughed again. “Close enough. Now you’ve gotten the spanking you deserved for it.”
“Okay, now what?” she volleyed holding his gaze.
“You beg me to fuck you? I think that was next on the agenda.”
“Not my agenda,” she said with a snort. “If you want a quickie, that’s not going to happen. I won’t be used.”
His eyes raked her body, then came back up to meet hers. “Who said anything about quick?” Heat sizzled along her nerve endings, but fizzled out when it reached her brain.
“Quick or all night, I’m not going to be used.”
He stared at her a moment, then heaved a sigh. “What do you want from me, Red? I can make it good for both of us. I said I wasn’t going to do it, but you’ve got me so wound up, if I don’t do something other than jerk off, I’m going to go blind.”
The flames licking at her insides were from anger now not desire. “Well, if that isn’t the most romantic thing a man has ever said to me. I think I’ll have to pass,” she said and turned to stalk toward the door. Her hand closed over the door knob and his closed on her shoulder. “Wait, Red…”
Ronnie fought to corral the emotions trying to consume her. She was not emotional, had never been prone to drama. But if she turned and looked at Trace Rooks right now, she had a feeling she would turn into a bawling, screaming, emotional…woman. She sucked in a breath then twisted the knob. The door cracked open, but he leaned his arm over her shoulder to push it closed.
“I said wait. I want to talk to you.”
“You’re an asshole. I have nothing to say to you,” Ronnie said folding her arms across her chest, mortified at the emotion she heard in her voice.
“Yeah, I am an asshole,” he agreed with a dark chuckle
“Well, at least we agree on something,” she grated reaching for the door knob again. She needed to get away from this man as fast as she could, before she turned around and did what he asked. Beg him to fuck her.
. Trace leaned closer to her ear to whisper sexily, “Tell me what you want, Red.” His hot breath tickled her ear sending tingles down her neck, across her chest directly to her nipples and they hardened.
“What I want is to get out of here,” she replied weakly. His heat surrounded her when he leaned into her body and trailed his fingers down her arm to her wrist, leaving chill bumps in their wake. He closed his hand over hers and that warmth spread through her body, before he pried her fingers off of the door knob. Ronnie knew she was in trouble when he turned her to face him. He trapped her against the door with his big body, and his eyes met hers. “Is this what you want, Red?” he asked as his head slowly descended toward hers. He shoved his fingers into her hair, as his mouth closed over hers in a sensual kiss. The emotions that were balled up in her chest unfurled in the most spectacular fireworks display she’d ever seen behind her closed eyes.
Yes, this is exactly what I want, she thought, as his other hand glided from her shoulder to her waist. He gently pulled her against his hard body, and swallowed Ronnie’s sigh into his mouth. His tongue found hers and invited it into an erotic dance that sent all the moisture in her body downward.
This was the man that Ronnie remembered. The man she wanted him to be again. The man she wanted to make love to her.
Trace pulled back and kissed one corner of her mouth. “Or is this what you want?” he asked before kissing the other side of her lips.
The hand at her waist slid down to grip her butt and Trace pulled her tighter against his rock solid erection, as he licked across the seam. He nipped her lower lip and pulled it slowly through his teeth. A slow burn started inside of her and Ronnie caressed his calf with hers, then wrapped her leg around the back of his thigh. He shifted his hips forward and she moaned when his erection brushed her clit through his jeans.
“Yes,” she whispered, rotating her hips against him.
Trace growled and shoved her into the door roughly. His body pinned her against the cool wood as his mouth slammed down over hers. He devoured her mouth as his fingers dug into the back of her thigh. He lifted her leg to fit himself closer to her core making short thrusts that brought her closer to a climax with each forward motion. Tension built, her inner muscles clenched and Ronnie fought the climax trying to come on too soon. She wanted him inside of her, stretching her like she knew he would before that happened.
Ronnie pushed against his shoulder then slid her hand down his chest to palm his hot steely length. He pulled his mouth
from hers breathing hard. His glazed eyes met hers and he pushed her hand away. He jerked his zipper down and pushed his pants down to his knees. “Wrap your legs around me, Red,” Trace urged in a raspy voice, as he lifted her other leg to his waist. Ronnie shifted her weight, pressed her back against the door and crossed her ankles at the base of his spine. Trace balanced her weight slid his finger under the elastic at her hip. His glazed eyes met hers as he jerked the band and it ripped. The material settled against the inside of her left thigh. He shifted her weight to both hands, his hips rocked back then with one powerful forward thrust he buried himself in her body. Ronnie lost her breath as she was driven back into the door. The stretch and burn of his thickness inside of her was so intense Ronnie felt impaled. Her body went liquid and she put her hands on his broad shoulders to brace herself.
She felt him pulsing inside of her, and her muscles clamped around him wanting him to move, but he didn’t. Tentatively, Ronnie rocked her hips to start a rhythm, but he still didn’t join her. Frustrated, Ronnie reached her hand between them and found the bundle of nerves at the top of her thighs. With a moan, she threw back her head and massaged herself.
Trace dragged in unsteady breaths. “You are the hottest damned woman I have ever met,” he growled. His muscles tensed and Ronnie opened her eyes to find him leaned back looking down watching her. Her hand slowed then stopped. His eyes met hers and they were filled with hot dark flames, not disgust. “No, don’t stop. Touch yourself,” he ordered roughly, as he began rocking his hips in short strokes. Ronnie groaned and her fingers matched his rhythm. His hot palms held her secure, so she moved her other hand to her breast to cup it. She pinched her nipple hard and pulled, feeling the tug between her legs too. The first waves of an orgasm crept up on her and her breath hitched.
“That’s it, baby. Make yourself come for me,” Trace coaxed in a strangled voice as he increased his pace, changing his angle of entry just a bit. His cock slid in and out of her creating exquisite friction, hitting that same spot every time. The perfect spot at just the right angle to send her toward the edge fast. Fire shot through her veins turning her blood to molten lava. Ronnie screamed his name, Trace held her tighter and lengthened his strokes into her body almost driving her through the door. Ronnie’s body tensed, her inner walls clutched him tightly and then she was floating above the clouds, as her release vibrated through her body.
Trace roared, his fingers dug deeper into her skin, and he made one final stroke. His muscles constricted as his body shook and his breaths came in short, uneven gasps. A final tremor moved through him, as he eased her feet to the ground. Ronnie’s legs felt boneless, her brain fuzzy from the tidal waves of endorphins coursing through her veins. She would have crumpled into a pile at his feet if Trace hadn’t caught her.
Now Ronnie knew. Those women had chased Trace Rooks because he was a sex god. The rumors weren’t wrong. She had just verified them first hand with the best orgasm she’d ever had in her life, self-induced or with a partner. Trace bent to put his arm under her knees before he swept her up into his arms.
“What are you doing?” she asked weakly.
“What does it look like I’m doing” Trace laughed. God she loved his laugh. He was smiling too, and her fingers shook as she trailed them up his neck to his face where she followed he contours of his smile.
“I thought we were done.”
His smile got broader than she’d ever seen it, and his eyes sparkled like he was about to laugh again. “Oh not by a long shot, baby,” His deep voice was thick with sexual promise. It vibrated through her body, stopping to dance in the center of her chest. Trace dropped a slow sensual kiss on her lips that started new fires in her belly. “When I’m done with you, I promise the word quickie will never pass those luscious lips again.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Why her? Trace thought again for the thousandth time since their all-night session of the hottest sex of his life three days ago. Typically he liked soft women, caring women, women who had a sense of humor and didn’t take life too seriously. They helped him forget, gave him a little relief from reality. Between the stressors of his job as a detective, and dealing with his father’s duplicity, women who didn’t take life too seriously is what he thought he was looking for.
Ronnie Winters was the antithesis of that. She was the most irritating, abrasive, smart-mouthed woman he’d ever run across. At the same time, she was the sexiest, most exciting woman he’d ever met too. She challenged him, maybe that was the draw. Working with her on these files for the last few days made him realize keeping up with her quick mind was a full-time job. He had to stay on his toes with her. It was no damned wonder she was so successful at her job. She was so smart he felt like an imbecile in comparison.
Trace shook his head and dragged his eyes from the delicious display of her full breasts pushing above the low-scooped neck of her shirt. Even though it had been three days, he could still taste her on the tip of his tongue. Sweet, spicy and tantalizing. It was a taste that if he wasn’t careful he could become addicted to. She was a woman he could become addicted to. The only woman he’d ever felt that way about before. It just didn’t make sense to him.
Right now, if he could, Trace would lock himself up in a room with her for a month to try and work her out of his system. He doubted even that would help. The way he felt right now, he might never unlock that door if he had her all to himself again. Since he opened the door of the cabin in the woods in the wee hours of the morning and they snuck back into the lodge, he hadn’t had another moment alone with her.
Since then, Ronnie had been sitting right here at this table. With his mother and Lou Ellen. Working through the files that could provide evidence to clear his name and salve her conscience. Trace figured guilt was what was driving her. He’d told her he forgave her, but that wasn’t enough. Evidently Ronnie wasn’t going to forgive herself until she accomplished her mission of clearing his name.
She was wasting her time. Regardless of whether she dug up hard evidence to the contrary, the damage was done. The whole state of Texas, hell the whole country, would always remember him as a bad cop who killed his partner for drugs when they heard his name. The bad seed of poor Senator Leland Rooks. Trace didn’t much give a damn anymore. He didn’t want to be a cop again. Ever. That chapter in his life was over, so Ronnie’s efforts were really an exercise in futility as far as he was concerned. His main goal in becoming a cop in the first place was to prove to the world that he wasn’t like his father. That he was a better man than Leland Rooks. Because of his jail time he would always be a convict. That is how most people thought. They had long memories.
And clearing him of the charges for his partner’s death wouldn’t solve his new trouble with the law. If the feds caught up with him he was going back to jail for crimes he did commit. The longer he stayed here at the lodge, the more of a probability that became. But with Ronnie, his mother and Lou Ellen working their asses off at this, having faith they could help him, he couldn’t make himself leave. Ronnie kept promising him she was on the trail of something, but she still hadn’t explained herself. It was frustrating.
Even working this closely with them, Trace had no clue what was going on or what they had found. He surely hadn’t found a damned thing in the thirty or so files he’d gone through. But then he didn’t know what he was looking for or at either. Ronnie evidently did. So far she had gone through two legal pads making intricate notes. And she’d gone through the files he’d gone through a second time once he was finished with them.
She was also going through the files that Lou Ellen and his mother had finished. As he understood it, Lou Ellen was just looking at the financial aspects of the file. His mother was organizing the papers and notes, so that when Ronnie got to them she could go through them quickly. Trace had no idea what his purpose was. They hadn’t given him one. He just read the files word for word. After the tenth file or so, he couldn’t comprehended a damned thing anymore. He was bored to tears.
It was all he could do to keep his eyes open and pretend he was focusing.
Trace jerked back to reality when Ronnie suddenly tossed her pen on her pad and huffed out a breath. “Okay, I have to ask,” Her eyes met his, as she gnawed her bottom lip. His eyes tracked there, and he watched her lips move, he heard the words, but he kept picturing that sexy mouth of hers on his dick. “I didn’t want to bring this up until I was sure there was a pattern.” The corners of her mouth curved downward and she sighed. “Trace look at me! This is important!” His eyes flew up to hers. “Do you know anyone with the initials S. C. other than your partner or your friend Seth? Someone maybe affiliated with Leland that I’m not aware of?” she asked then looked down the table at his mother. “Mrs. Rooks, that question is for you too.”
“I can’t think of anyone off the top of my head,” Allison replied. Ronnie looked back at him. “How about you?”
Trace’s phone vibrated in his pocket and he was never more happy that it did. He did not want to hear what she was about to speculate. And he did not want to talk about his dead partner. Pulling his phone from his pocket he stood. “I need to take this,’ he said glancing down at the screen to see it was Seth. He hadn’t talked to him in a week. Maybe something had broken loose. Trace turned and walked into the gathering room as he connected the call. “Yeah, what’s up?”
“Ray Brown is dead. I just wanted to let you know.”
“What?!?” Trace yelled. He heard chairs scrape back in the dining room, and walked quickly to the front door. He was outside and halfway across the yard by the time he heard the front door open again, and Ronnie call his name.
“They found him hanging in his cell this morning.” Trace put his hand to his throat as he walked into the woods. That same thing could very well have happened to him in jail. That bastard was too selfish to rid the world of his nastiness voluntarily, so Trace knew the answer before he asked, “Suicide?”