by Annie Dean
I spend my whole life looking to have one of my stories go national and I wind up on TV for this? Shit.
"Sean, what the hell are you doing on Channel 6? Penguins? Who's that woman with you? Have you lost your mind...?"
He deleted it without letting it play through a second time. How did the woman manage this? Somehow, he was in the wrong. But since he could prove none of it, he was the crazy, inconsiderate husband who took off without warning, who left his wife worried and bewildered.
"Goddamn,” he muttered. “I am not having a mid-life crisis."
Cami had the nerve to suggest in closing that he come home and think about trading his truck for a red convertible BMW, like that would fix everything. It took him another five minutes to realize he had enough proof for his own peace of mind.
If Cami had ever been out here, she would've recognized that stretch of road, as there had been a highway sign in the background. His wife should have been furious, demanded to know what he was doing so close to her retreat, maybe even asked if he was checking up on her. She'd asked other questions, of course, but not the right ones.
That meant Addie was definitely lying to him; he just didn't know why. But he'd find out. Addie Alger. The name didn't ring any bells, but maybe she was a college friend of Cami's he hadn't known about. As they'd gone to separate schools, that wasn't too far-fetched. On impulse, he powered up his laptop and tried to log in, meaning to run a background check on the proprietor. And of course this place didn't have wi-fi. He felt like grinding his teeth; it was like the whole world had started to conspire against him.
That didn't matter, though. He'd just hunker down and keep at it. Digging deep, playing a role to get what he wanted from someone—that was the most exciting part of his job, although he seldom tapped his abilities to the fullest. Chances were, Sean might enjoy some aspects of his research here too much, but hey, sacrifices had to be made.
As he stood up, the lamplight caught the ring on his left hand. He studied it for a long moment before he made a decision and tugged at it. It had been firmly in place for so many years that he wound up needing shaving gel to work it off. That stripe of white flesh was going to take longer to go away, though, and the memories never would.
He curled his fingers into a fist, thinking he should go watch his hands. But before he could move, a double tap sounded at the door. Shit.
"Sean?” Addie called through the door. “I thought you might need these for a shower ... or you might want to go swimming later."
The whole room smelled like cucumber, aloe and ginger, weird organic shaving stuff Cami had bought him in order to make him more GQ. And right now, it was dripping off his fingers in gooey strings. She was going to think he was a freak.
Before he could decide what to do, she let herself in with fresh towels, probably guessing the room was empty since he hadn't answered. She was humming something, and then she drew up short, sniffing. He felt heat suffuse his face and neck as she focused on his dripping fingers.
"Uh,” she said, clutching snow-white towels to her chest. “I can come back if this is a bad time, if I interrupted ... something..."
She'd changed into a pair of green shorts. They hung low on her hips, showing the gentle curve of her belly, and Sean caught his breath at her casual sexiness. He was pretty sure those were men's clothes; she wore silk boxers and a plain old Fruit of the Loom undershirt, but the contrast of her smooth, tan skin against white cotton spoke to him like a religious experience.
Sean shook his head. He felt pretty sure he didn't remember how to speak English, pure mortification paralyzing his vocal cords. Hurriedly he wiped his hand on his pants, where the gel promptly left a stain. Pure malignance, no doubt.
But then, her gaze lit on the wedding ring sitting beside his open laptop and she seemed to draw her own conclusions. Her expression melted from slightly worried to downright sympathetic. “I'm sorry. No wonder you look upset."
Do I? Sean felt a faint flicker of surprise, followed by a surge of warmth. It was nice, having someone pay attention, though if anyone had asked, he would've said he had a decent poker face.
He mustered up a smile as he took the towels and set them on the bedside table. “Bad news on the phone just now, that's all."
He knew what interpretation she would place on that and he had to wonder if she would call Cami to confirm. Did they know each other that well? Sorority sisters? Sean tried to imagine Addie rushing and couldn't. She just wasn't the type.
"Would you like to talk about it?” She bumped the door closed with her hip, and the room seemed much smaller, dominated by his unmade bed.
"I don't think it's anything you could help with,” he answered, aware that his cock had all kinds of seditionist ideas about how she could assist.
I'm not imagining that look. The air felt charged, and as she moved toward him, he had to force himself not to take a step back. That would be revealing how much she unnerved him.
Addie stopped about a foot away and began tidying up his bed. Sean knew an absurd sense of disappointment; he would have sworn she was thinking something else entirely as she closed the distance. Maybe he was just too horny to read her, and he sure couldn't remember the last time he'd made love.
As she worked, he caught her scent and his stomach muscles clenched. She smelled of clean, apple shampoo and oatmeal soap, a ridiculously delicious combination. He watched the curve of her hip, the swell of her ass as she bent, straightening the covers, but she didn't put the pillows underneath.
Addie turned then. “Lie down."
"I ... what?” The sudden rush of heat made it impossible for him to think.
Her slow smile as she patted the bed turned his brain to mush and his cock to titanium. “Lie down, Sean. You're upset, but you don't walk to talk. That leaves me no other recourse."
He knew he should question her, but instead he lay down, mouth dry and his whole body trembling. It had been so long; he couldn't think of anything but how much he needed to be touched. And she wanted him; he saw it in her eyes.
"Thank you,” she murmured, “but I need you on your tummy."
This was either not going to turn out how he expected or it would be kinkier than anything in his life thus far. But he still didn't balk, just turned over, and then he felt her hands on his shoulders, applying pressure as she worked his muscles in firm circles. Not what he'd expected, not half what he wanted, but—he moaned as her thumbs worked their way down his spine, tending to each divot.
"Mmm. That's..."
"I'm not a professional, but I know what feels good."
You sure do. She massaged his back and shoulders for what to be at least twenty minutes while he lay there beneath her hands, becoming simultaneously more relaxed and more aroused. What really got him, though, was when she curled her fingers around the sides of his neck and used her thumbs at the base of his skull. Tingles spread down his back and shoulders, and he felt goosebumps spring up all over his bare arms.
Sean wanted her to slide her hands lower, cup his ass cheeks and knead him there; he wanted to feel her hands on his thighs. God. He wanted to roll over and show her what she'd done to him, the way his cock throbbed in time to his heartbeat, and then draw her down on top of him. He needed to feel her pussy as she rode him, her ponytail bouncing.
But he couldn't take the chance that he was misinterpreting kindness as something more. The humiliation would never fade if she took one look at him, screamed for the Samoan, and ran like hell. So he stayed flat on his stomach after he felt her straighten—her hands were probably tired.
He cleared his throat, hoping he could trust his voice. “Thank you."
"Of course. I want my guests to enjoy themselves at all times."
Her cool words nettled him, and he rolled onto his side to look into her face, forgetting about personal embarrassment. When he realized what he'd done, he shrugged mentally. She could take it as a compliment if she noticed him his straining zipper.
"So you offer th
is service to everyone? Or just people who are pissed off?"
"No more than I do laundry,” she said with a smile he couldn't interpret. “But there are special exceptions."
"How special?” He propped himself up on an elbow, feeling that particular energy crackle between them once more. Definitely not imagining that.
Her eyes lingered on his mouth. “To date, the list consists of you...” Addie touched his cheek gently. “And you...” She ran her fingertip down to his jaw, making a teasing progression toward his mouth. “Then there's you..."
Sean squeezed his eyes shut, unable to bear the teasing. When she touched his lip, he bit, gently, to let her know he wasn't in the mood to play. Or rather, he was. So she'd best be careful or he'd give her what she was asking for, maybe harder and rougher than she wanted. His teeth against the pad of her fingertip coaxed a soft sound out of her, and when he opened his eyes, he saw a sweet, answering need in her gaze.
"You better leave or lay down, girl.” He didn't touch her. Yet.
Her glance dropped, and she licked her lips, visibly appreciating the swell of his cock through faded denim. At the end of a minute, she was still standing there, immobile, and that decided the matter for him. He reached for her, tugging her down on top of him. If this wasn't what she wanted, she could pull free, but instead, she let her thighs bracket his hips as she lowered her head, lips seeking his.
First kisses were supposed to be shy and tentative, noses bumping. But Addie tipped her head to the right with consummate assurance and nibbled on his lower lip. Nibble and tug, while her tongue swept his upper lip, carrying traces of peppermint. She kissed him slow and sweet, building the anticipation, and Sean wrapped his arms around her, conscious of the maddening contrast between her whisper-light kisses and the subtle rock of her hips.
When she sat back, he let her go, but she just gazed down at him, her cheeks glowing with color. Sean didn't know what he expected, wondered if she could feel him throbbing underneath her, wondered if she could feel him shaking. Her chest rising and falling quickly, Addie rested her hands on her bare knees as if to brace herself. He followed her motion and noted the scars on her knees, pale nicks against her tan skin. Reacting more than thinking, he rubbed his thumbs over the marks.
"What happened?"
She cupped her palms over his, not trying to take his hands away, though. More like seeking contact. But her smile tightened like he'd asked her something painful. “Roller-skating. I never did learn how."
Well, that wasn't the truth. His instincts perked up when he wasn't getting the complete picture, but he wasn't here to find out why she had scars on her knees. Sean felt a flicker of regret. He hated that feeling, as it was a foregone conclusion she was lying to him, but he'd use whatever weapon he needed to put the pieces together. It didn't matter if she was a good person.
So he let it go and ran his hands a little higher, watching his touch spark in her eyes. Goddamn, it had been so long since a woman looked at him like that. He could almost forget everything else. Almost.
Her skin's so soft.
"What're we doing here, Addie?"
At that, she gave him that long, going-to-hell-with-a-smile look. “Nothing yet, but if you hold still, I'll fuck the hell out of you."
His breath went out in a rush.
Chapter Six
I did not just say that.
It had been a long damn time since she was that woman, the one who boldly stated her intentions. Addie hadn't been with a man in a while, but she liked the feel of this one underneath her. His thumbs stroking her inner thighs sent sweet, hot shocks up and down her spine. The fact that she was trying to seduce him to keep him from causing trouble should've doused her interest some, but instead she felt like she'd gotten the best of a two-for-one sale.
He gazed up at her silent and unsmiling, like he was waiting for her to admit she didn't mean it. Addie held herself still, not rocking on him anymore, but she felt the heat of his hard cock through her silk boxers. Since she'd come to his room with illicit intentions, she wasn't wearing panties, and she knew he could see the dark points of her nipples shading the thin undershirt. He stared at each rise and fall of her chest, and she wondered if he wanted to taste as badly as she wanted his mouth.
Tentative, Sean slid his hands higher, easing beneath her shirt like he expected to be slapped. Feeling her heart speed up, she folded the white cotton back deliberately, a hint of a striptease that fueled the hunger in his eyes. When she paused with the fabric beneath her breasts, she gave him a wicked smile.
"Take it off.” His hands skimmed back down her sides, rousing little shivers, and then settled on her hips.
She pulled the shirt over her head with a slow, side-to-side motion that made him groan and tug her down on him harder. Arching her back, she struck a pose.
"How's that?"
"Beautiful."
Oddly, Addie agreed with him; she always felt sexier naked. Smooth, tan skin was her best feature, but she knew she had a decent body too, even if it wasn't as tight as a nineteen-year-old's anymore. Someone that age wouldn't be nearly as good in bed, though. With age came experience, after all.
After a long moment of simply gazing, he surprised her when he ran his fingertips upward, grazing her belly and ribs with his nails, a subtle sensation that tightened her nipples further. Instead of touching her aching breasts, he explored her sides and the curve of her waist, the delicate dip in her spine.
Based purely on his physical size, she would have guessed he was the “hold ‘em down and fuck ‘em” type, but his unexpected teasing made it hard to sit still. So she squirmed, watching his face with each shift. He looked almost pained as he cupped her ass, setting a rhythm, and Addie felt her pussy heat up, slick and ready to ride.
Sean seemed to follow her thought, and she moaned when he slid his fingers into the placket of her shorts. These were new, so she hadn't sewn it shut, perfect for him to stroke her swollen lips and toy with her hard clit. Addie tilted her hips to give him better access, breathing fast. Up and down, a slow, teasing touch that made her restless and impatient. It wasn't enough, not even close.
She yanked on his shirt, almost ripping it off his back before he sat up to finish the job. That shift ground his cock against her, skin separated by damp silk and his denim. His chest was broad and brown, just enough hair to stop him from looking like something that belonged on the cover of a romance novel.
Leaning down, she bit his lower lip. “Are we done playing?"
It had been a long time, and she wanted a quick, hard fuck. Though men might not believe it, foreplay could be overrated. To her mind, a first time should be rough and fast, nothing but scratching, humping, and coming. Once the edge was off, they could play around, lick everything twice, and take it slow.
Sean held her against him, hard, for a moment, and she could see his chest rising and falling, hear his gusts of breath. He wants this as bad as I do.
"Get naked,” he growled.
Oh, that sounded promising. She slid onto the floor and eased her fingers into the waistband of her shorts, but before she could pull them off, someone tapped on the door. It was a diffident knock, as if the person on the other side suspected he might be interrupting. Understatement of the week.
"Addie?” Manu called. “Ben Fuller's downstairs. He wants to talk to you."
"Of course he does.” Her whole body vibrating with unspent lust, she bent to retrieve her undershirt and yanked over her head. “I'm sorry."
As she left, Sean pulled a pillow over his head and began to punch it. Manu led the way, but as they went downstairs, passing her room, he said without looking at her, “You might want to get changed. I'll get him some lemonade or something."
Glancing down, she saw that her silk boxers were damp in front. I probably smell like the sex I didn't have, too. Fucking great. She forced herself to sound casual.
"Thanks, Manu. I'll be there in five."
Addie cleaned up quickly and then turned up i
n the kitchen to find Fuller sitting at the kitchen table, drinking lemonade and munching on sugar cookies. He fumbled to stand and finish his food at the same time, offering a crumby smile. She'd gone to school with him and his two chief physical traits used to be a bionic cowlick and crooked front teeth. These days, he kept his hair so short it couldn't stick up and he'd worn a retainer for years to fix his smile. The nicest guy in the county, he had a goofy, endearing air about him that always made her want to check to see if his buttons were done up correctly. And she'd never been less pleased to see anyone in her life.
"Addie,” he said, pushing away from the table with an eager force that almost upset his drink. “You look pretty."
I do? She glanced down at the ragged cutoffs and white undershirt. If you say so.
"Thanks, Ben. What can I do for you?"
He took off his ball cap like he'd suddenly remembered it was bad manners to wear it inside, twisting the bill in his hands. Since he wasn't in uniform, that must mean he was off duty. She figured this might be a social call. Well, shit.
"You really saved my ass today. The zoo people said the penguins were in good shape, much better than they'd have been if you didn't come."
Addie had quite a lot to say about not coming, but she decided not to yell at him. “I didn't mind at all. The sheriff's department owes Lorene like $50, though. Would you take care of it for me?"
He nodded, showing a flicker of the assurance his deputy's uniform seemed to imbue in him. “I'll pay for it out of petty cash. Anyway, the reason I came by is ... well, I want to show my appreciation. Maybe I could take you out to dinner?"
Addie tried not to let her astonishment show. She'd never imagined he saw her that way, and for a moment, she tried to see him as a sexual object and ... failed utterly. Still, it wasn't like he was asking for a lifetime pass to naked town.
"Sure,” she said. “When did you want to go?"
"Wednesday night, around seven?"