Some Girls Do (Outback Heat Book 1)

by Andrews, Amy

  God-fucking-damn her!

  He stormed towards her, angry at himself for his weakness where she was concerned and angry at her for being able to exploit it so damn well.

  In two paces he’d stepped between those legs, grabbed her hips and dragged her forward until she was jammed tight against the hard bulge between his legs. “Is this what you want?” he demanded, his heart beating like a jungle drum through his head now.

  “God yes,” she groaned, her hands grabbing for his biceps, her eyes closing as he ground against her.

  His hands disappeared beneath the ruched fabric of her skirt, found the insubstantial sides of her underwear and yanked hard, the fabric giving easily. He tugged on what remained of the lace and tore it off her, throwing it over his shoulder. He yanked his zip down, the noise ricocheting loudly as it cut through the charged atmosphere.

  “You want me to fuck you on the hood of your car in your cowgirl hat like some cheesy porn film?”

  “Yes,” she hissed, a touch of defiance flashing in her eyes. She wasn’t ashamed. Nor did it look like she was going to apologise for wanting what she wanted.

  Her calves locked around the backs of his legs and her chest rose and fell in a completely discordant rhythm.

  Fuck, he wanted her.

  Coop freed his aching cock and she looked at it like she wanted to devour it. “Yes?” he demanded again, their combined breathing a vortex as loud as a hurricane in the heated space between them.

  “Yes,” she muttered, her gaze returning to his face as she reached for him greedily, grasping him firmly, guiding him hungrily towards her, her eyes never leaving his. “Now.”

  And he didn’t stop to consider his options or the consequences or think about his honour or the fact he wasn’t wearing a condom, because her hand was on him and then all her heat and wet met the unbearable tautness of cock and his hands were reaching for her hips, tilting her for that perfect thrust and her eyes were goading him, daring him and he loved her so fucking much he held her gaze and entered her in a single push.

  She cried out and Coop groaned as her slick velvety tightness surrounded him. Their breathing rasped into the air. “More?” he demanded.

  “Yes,” she gasped, digging her fingernails into his biceps now.

  He shoved into her again, her head rocking back, the Akubra falling off. Her hair swung around her head and shoulders with the momentum. “Like that?” he growled, his gaze boring into her.

  * * *

  “Yes.” Lacey fought the urge to shut her eyes and just revel in the pleasure drowning her body. “Just like that.”

  Coop was inside her. It felt good. And he’d made the first move.

  He didn’t say anything then. Neither of them did. Nor did they kiss. He just looked at her as he thrust harder and harder inside her as if he was trying to punish her for his loss of control. Or himself. Or maybe both of them.

  But Lacey revelled in every stroke. Lifted her hips off the hood and met every single one, daring him with her eyes to go harder, higher, deeper, faster. Refusing to feel shame or embarrassment. Welcoming him into her body, remembering the rhythm and the feel and the stroke of him. Granting him pleasure. Showering him in acceptance. Fighting the tension cranking up inside her that begged for a release she refused to allow before he was ready too.

  And it didn’t take him long. Lacey could feel the tremble in his biceps and hear the ragged edge to his breath as days and days of torment and a night of teasing hurtled them head first into pleasure.

  “Fuck,” Coop groaned, glaring at her. “I’m going to come.”

  And that was all Lacey needed. “Me too,” she gasped then let it all go, let it unspool, pressing her forehead into his bicep as the waves rippled and spun and churned and he cried out her name and she clung to his arms, holding on tight, letting it all wash over her.

  * * *

  At some stage Coop collapsed against her, his forehead resting in the notch between shoulder and neck, the metal of the hood pressing into her lower back.

  They were both still joined, still breathing hard when he pulled back slightly and looked down at her. “I hope you’re satisfied?”

  He looked pissed. And tense. And she couldn’t blame him. But no man should be so riled after such an amazing orgasm. It was time to fix that. “I’m sorry,” she panted, her voice not much more than a whisper as she righted herself, invading the space he’d carved out between them. And then she kissed him, soft and slow.

  He resisted at first but Lacey persisted, stroking her mouth across his in long tender sweeps, teasing him with a hint of tongue, her hands circling his neck as she sighed and shifted and pressed against him, using every ounce of herself to coax his lips to play.

  He surrendered on a groan, his hands sliding around to the small of her back, his palms spreading over the dimples there as his mouth opened and joined the sweet tango.

  If it was possible, Lacey’s heart beat even faster than before as he kissed her slow and deep. It was so sweet Lacey wanted to cry. She moaned as it went on and on, his hands tightening around her back.

  “Thank you,” she whispered against his mouth, gentling the kiss after long drugging moments, and pulling back a little.

  He shook his head, those blue pools of his reflecting his disquiet. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have … taken you like that.”

  Lacey shook her head. “It was amazing,” she said. “It was exactly how I wanted it.”

  He frowned. “You want it like that?”

  “That time? Sure.” She smiled at him. “But next time? How about you take me home to bed and you can call the shots.”

  Lacey half expected him to protest. To retreat. To try and wind back time and be all platonic again. Instead he picked up his hat off the hood, jammed it on his head and said, “Yes ma’am.”

  Chapter Eleven

  ‡

  The next two days were about as close to bliss as Lacey had ever been. Or had been for a long time, anyway. Back in the days before her mother had been diagnosed with cancer, she’d been safe and secure in her home and the knowledge that her three older brothers adored her. She could roam around Jumbuck Springs, where everyone knew her.

  She’d wallowed in the bliss of those truly carefree days, ignorant to the harsh realities of life. Unlike her mother and brothers, whose bliss had been well and truly shattered when Don Weston, her father, had been the victim of a hit-and-run accident while on duty. Lacey had been so small—barely two—that she didn’t remember her father or the dreadful turmoil of that time. In fact the family, the town, had taken great care to shelter her from it.

  So there’d been no bad memories to spoil Lacey’s bliss. Until her mother got cancer.

  Five years ago—over three since her death—that’s how long it had been since Lacey had felt this kind of happy. And it was all because of Coop.

  Spending long hours burning up the sheets with him, waking up beside him, laughing with him over toast and coffee in the morning, and snuggling on the couch with him at night, had all wormed under her skin and she knew it was going to be hard to say goodbye in just a few short days.

  Especially as Coop had let go of all his usual boundaries where she was concerned and opened to her completely. He laughed and told her stories about his childhood and his business; things about Ethan and him on the beat as new recruits; and more personal things about the night he was shot.

  They’d slipped into an easy kind of intimacy as if they’d always been a couple, and it was addictive.

  And the sex. Lordy, Lordy, Lordy, the sex. He was ruining her for all other men.

  The alarm went off at six on Tuesday morning and Lacey, lying on her belly, groaned. “I hate that damn thing.”

  A hand slid onto her bare ass as a pair of lips brushed her shoulder blade. “If you didn’t keep me up all night I wouldn’t need to set it.”

  Lacey ignored the not very convincing complaint as the hot, hard length of Coop’s erection pressed into her side righ
t near her hand. She reached for it, filling her palm, wrapping her fingers around the impressive girth. She didn’t know how it was even ready again considering he’d almost blown her head off with three stellar performances last night, the last one only three hours ago.

  Maybe it was because they both knew their days were numbered.

  It was his turn to groan as she squeezed him hard and she stole a peek at him through strands of her hair, the ecstasy etched on his face tightening an ever-present knot in her chest.

  Things had been perfect, but she was conscious of time running out. Best to make the most of it now. “I’ve got a place you can put that,” she murmured.

  Coop chuckled, the vibrations tickling her skin as he pushed her hair off her back and pressed a string of kisses from one shoulder to another. “I was hoping you might.”

  Goosebumps broke out on Lacey’s skin wherever his lips trailed. “You want the long version or the short version?”

  “I think,” he said, rolling over top of her in one easy move, his dick sliding from her grasp as he straddled her legs, a knee planted either side of her thighs, “I’ll take the long.” His erection dragged along the cleft of her buttocks as he kissed the side of her neck and Lacey moaned, pushing her rear into the thick, delicious glide. “There are certain advantages to living only a five-minute walk to work after all,” he muttered.

  “Gotta love small-town life,” Lacey panted, arching her back as his cock changed direction, ploughing through her slick folds, rubbing back and forth, taunting her.

  “Amen,” Coop muttered as Lacey reached for the condom stash in the bedside drawer.

  When his phone rang Lacey almost cried. She wasn’t that far off coming just from the heavy glide of his dick. His hips jerked to a stop. “Leave it,” she groaned but he was reaching for it anyway.

  “It’s Alec,” he said.

  Alec Campbell? Why would he be ringing when he would be seeing Coop later this afternoon when they got back to town?

  She whimpered as Coop rolled off her onto his back and took the call. His hand found her butt again though, his fingers stroking up and down the globes of her ass, mollifying her somewhat. It wasn’t exactly the same but it still felt pretty damn good.

  Lacey’s eyes closed in appreciation. She was almost certain she drooled on the sheets as she vaguely took in the one-sided conversation that lasted less than a minute.

  “What the hell did he want?” she asked as the phone clattered onto the bedside table.

  “He wants to take another week.” Lacey’s eyes flew open. “He says I can just put up a back-in-a-week sign if I can’t extend, but he asked me if I could.”

  Considering Lacey had been half way to La La Land less than a minute ago, she was suddenly very focused. She rolled up on her side, displacing his hand from her ass but completely aware of his gaze on the fall of her breasts.

  “What did you say?”

  “I said yes.”

  Lacey lost her breath for a moment. “Oh.”

  His eyes trekked back up to her face. “The man hasn’t had a holiday in a decade. It seemed selfish to say no. And I haven’t …” he ogled her breasts briefly again, “quite finished your car yet. It would be a shame to leave before that.”

  Lacey smiled. Right, that would be the shame about him leaving tomorrow …

  “So … we’re not telling my brothers about the fake pregnancy just yet then?”

  He grimaced at the mention. “We should,” he said, his voice gravelly.

  Lacey nodded, but she could see his conflict. See he wanted to give this up about as much as she did, and if her brothers knew the truth there’d be no need for them to keep cohabiting. She squirmed across the short distance between them, her thigh sliding over the top of his, her torso smooshing up against his side, the heavy fall of her hair fanning out across his chest. “Another week wouldn’t hurt, would it?”

  He slid one hand onto her ass again, the other into her hair. “I can’t think when I’m near you,” he muttered, bringing a long wavy lock to his nose and inhaling.

  Lacey slid her thigh over his hips and, in one easy move, straddled him, his stiffening cock sitting right between her legs. She looked down at him for a long time. His eyes were unfathomable and she wanted nothing more than to get so lost in them she’d never find her way out.

  “Make love to me,” she whispered.

  She hadn’t ever said that before, but there was something deeper in this moment than just fucking. For a long beat he didn’t say or do anything. Then he snaked his hand up her body to the back of her neck and pulled her down to him.

  * * *

  Later that afternoon, Lacey walked into Jumbuck Springs primary school and headed to Connie’s grade seven class to pick her up. Ethan had been called to an emergency on one of the outlying properties and had rung JJ to fetch Connie. He usually did the drop off and pick up—one of the advantages of being the police chief in a small town—but when things cropped up, JJ was his plan B.

  Lacey had offered to go in JJ’s stead. She hadn’t seen as much of her niece as she’d thought she would, given her initial plan to be living at home had bombed so spectacularly, and she planned on making up for that. She’d take Connie to Mo’s for an ice-cream sundae, and maybe to Mrs Hoff’s to pick out some material for a dress or shorts or whatever Connie might like.

  Connie’s eyes lit up and she waved excitedly as she spotted Lacey waiting for her just outside the classroom. The bell went a minute later and Connie was the first one out the door.

  “Lacey,” she grinned, throwing her arms around Lacey’s waist.

  “Hey,” Lacey smiled, hugging back. “Dad had a thing out of town so you got me. Wanna go get some ice-cream?”

  Connie looked at her like that was probably the dumbest question ever asked in the history of dumb questions. “Is the Pope Catholic?”

  Lacey laughed. Uncle Marcus had a lot to answer for!

  Connie’s teacher, Julia Munro, approached as Connie was collecting her bag from the nearby racks. Lacey had met her during the Octopus’s Garden Parade and liked her. She was only a year older than Lacey, but had come all the way from Cairns to Jumbuck Springs to score her first-ever teaching job. She had one of the prettiest faces Lacey had ever seen. She looked angelic. And Connie adored her.

  “I heard all about your spectacular wedding save on the weekend,” Julia said.

  “Oh yes,” Lacey laughed. Word had certainly gotten around. Everywhere she went people were talking about it. “It was a bit of a challenge.”

  “A miracle, I heard.”

  Lacey blushed. “I guess those years at design school paid off.”

  “I was wondering if you were interested in making a gown for me? For the B&S ball in two weeks’ time?”

  Bachelor and Spinster balls were a huge part of outback life and the highlight of the calendar for those singles in the district. They were wild affairs for the hard-working men and women of the bush, who rarely got to let their hair down and do some dancing and romancing.

  “It’s impossible to find something that fits me properly,” Julia continued, sliding hands over her Rubenesque hips, “and buying off the internet is just as frustrating. Those sizing charts always get it wrong. I thought you might be able to design a one-off that doesn’t make me look like I’m wearing a giant Santa sack. I’ll pay you, of course.”

  Having studied the fashion industry for the last three-plus years, Lacey knew how little good stuff was being designed for plus-sized women. “Okay … sure … have you got something in mind?”

  Julia nodded. “Yeah, sort of.”

  “All right. How about you come to The Stockman later this afternoon and we’ll go from there?”

  “Thank you,” Julia said, pressing her hand to her ample chest as she gave a relieved sigh. “You’re a life saver.”

  “Ready,” Connie said, interrupting the conversation as she bumped into Lacey while trying to walk, watch an aeroplane overhead and shrug into her b
ackpack at the same time.

  Lacey laughed and helped her. “Okay. Let’s go to Mo’s.”

  “See you Miss Munro,” Connie said, smiling at her teacher.

  Julia smiled. “See you tomorrow, Connie. And I’ll see you,” she added, looking at Lacey, “about four-thirty?”

  Lacey nodded, already looking forward to it. Already formulating patterns and an idea for a brand new business in her head.

  * * *

  By Thursday afternoon Lacey had created a gorgeous Betty Boop-inspired outfit in leopard print for Julia and, thanks to Caroline’s mother, had done an interview for the popular district newspaper about the Great Wedding Dress Rescue. The article came out on Friday and by the end of the day she had orders for three other Lacey Weston one-offs for B&S customers.

  Lacey was excited and thrilled at the response. So much of the time at college she’d felt restricted by convention, but here she had free rein with her clients to deliver the product they wanted.

  And make money out of it!

  Coop had also put the finishing touches on her car that day so the pair of them had celebrated long into the night with a marathon mattress session. There was an edge of desperation about it as they feasted on each other’s bodies. They both knew their time was almost up but neither wanted to mention it.

  Lacey wasn’t sure how that was all going to go down and she didn’t want to think about it. She figured she’d face it when Alec was back, and until then she’d just hold onto Coop and revel in their intimacy and his body as he was revelling in hers. Keep the bliss alive for as long as possible.

  Because it sure as hell wasn’t going to be the same around here without Coop.

  In the end, though, it all went down in a way Lacey had never imagined and it all started with Stylish Woman hitting the shelves on Monday morning.

  * * *

  Mrs Durrum was one of the first people through the doors of the pub, looking more like sixteen than eighty, brandishing the magazine with a great big smile. “You’re famous, Lacey. Famous! I always knew you would be one day, my dear girl. You and Selena both.”