by Lora Leigh
“Don’t, Hunter. We can’t,” she whispered. Her hands slid up his arms to his shoulders.
“We can.” He spoke softly, so close he could taste her coffee-flavored lips. The slight touch made him hungry for more. What they had at Jacob’s cabin had only whet his appetite. “We have.”
He pulled her against him, swallowing her moan as his mouth moved against hers. Her weak attempt to push him away was short-lived. Her arms went around him as she tilted her head, kissing him like she couldn’t breathe without him. The way her sweet body melted against him had his cock hard and demanding attention. His hands speared through her soft hair, holding her there as his tongue brushed against hers. Like a wild cat, her teeth grazed his bottom lip as her fingers dug into his back.
What was left of his control quickly disintegrated as his hand moved to cup her full breast. Her rigid nipple pressed eagerly against his caressing palm. Fuck if his hands didn’t shake while he tried to unbutton her silky shirt. Damn tiny buttons were separating him for her skin.
Finally he had her shirt unbuttoned, his fingers stroking the swells of her breasts above her lacy bra. He nipped at her collarbone and licked the spot. With one hand, he unsnapped the front clasp of her bra. Her breasts gently bounced free as he pulled away the delicate cups. The little catch in her throat as he trailed kisses down her throat drove him on. His cock was throbbing uncomfortably behind his zipper. He leaned away and took in the vision of her. Sam, aroused and needy, was a thing of beauty.
“I love how you turn pink for me,” he murmured against her lips. His words sounded like a growl as he lifted her onto his desk, pushed her skirt up, and moved between her thighs.
“Oh God, Hunter, we have to stop.”
He pulled back and met her gaze. “Do you really want me to stop?”
Her expression was a combination of frustration and arousal and anger. “I want it. But we can’t; we have to stop.”
“No, we don’t.” His mouth closed over one nipple, and she whimpered.
Her thighs were so soft he couldn’t stop stroking them, moving ever closer to her heat. He didn’t even notice she’d unbuckled and unzipped his pants until he felt her cool hand wrapping around his hard cock. He groaned against her breast as her thumb smoothed over the throbbing head. His waning control slipped past the danger zone. He needed her tight pussy gripping him like it had the night before. He needed to taste her sweet cream and feel her shatter against his tongue.
The soft plumpness of her pussy through her soaked cotton panties made him insane, so damn hot, so slick. She lifted her ass, and he pulled her panties off quickly, letting them fall to the floor. His fingers slipped inside her folds, gently stroking from her tight opening to her sweet little throbbing clit. She moved against his fingers, biting her lip to keep quiet. He needed more time, he needed more space. This was not gonna be enough to sate him. Not by a long shot.
“Hunter…” It was a broken whisper, a plea for release or to make it last, he wasn’t sure.
A knock at the door stopped him from finding out. They froze. Sam’s eyes widened with fear. Hunter let her go, holding her hot gaze that reflected the unfulfilled lust in his own. The air was thick with tension, frustration, and the warm creamy scent of her arousal. Anyone who entered the room would detect it and know exactly what it was. It had Hunter baring his teeth as he zipped his pants.
“Yeah?” He breathed deeply as she slid from his desk, quickly fastening her bra.
Hunter went to the door as she turned away to button her shirt. He stepped out into the hall and closed his office door behind him.
“Uh, Sheriff, Carol says there’s a call for you. I wouldn’t bother you but it’s the mayor, sir,” Shane said quietly. “I told her you were still meeting with Ms. Ryder, so I thought I’d better come let ya know.”
“Shit. Okay, have her put it through.”
“Will do.” Shane paused. “She okay?”
“She’s fine. She’s just tired.” Hunter eyed him suspiciously. The kid looked a little too concerned.
“Yeah. Ya know, I could take her home if you’re busy with the mayor.”
“I got this, Shane.” Uh-huh. The boy was definitely crushin’ on Ms. Sam.
“Right.” Shane smiled a weak smile and walked toward the lobby.
Sam was standing and smoothing down her skirt when he came back into the office. “I’ve gotta take this call. The mayor.”
Sam nodded, looking a bit shaky.
“Sam, babe, your buttons…” He pointed to her haphazard button-up job.
“Oh hell,” she grumbled as she righted her top.
He grinned at her as the phone rang. She was so damn cute. “Sheriff Steele.”
“I’m gonna need to be cc’d on all the reports involving Officer Ryder’s shooting last night.” Mayor Henderson spent no time on pleasantries.
“Yes, sir. You’ll have them when they’re done,” Hunter replied succinctly.
“What was she doing with you on that call, Steele?” Henderson had a way about him that grated on Hunter’s nerves. Maybe it was his voice or his pompous attitude, or just the fact that the man was everything he disliked in a person.
“It’s all in the report, Mayor. It was a clean shoot. It’s already been cleared.”
“Just make sure I get all the reports. You hear?” Some found Mayor Henderson’s emphatic drawl appealing. Hunter found it grating.
“Absolutely,” Hunter said with false enthusiasm.
“Good. Hire her,” the mayor commanded before disconnecting.
Hunter stared at the phone for a whole minute after hanging up, wondering which way the mayor was thinking and why he wanted Sam in the department so badly. The man could be on the right track and have worked out that Sam was here investigating. That wasn’t good.
The last thing he needed was the mayor becoming more suspicious.
“Hunter, listen. This has to stop,” Sam ordered him shakily, as he turned his gaze back to her.
He might actually take her seriously if her nipples weren’t still hard.
“What is ‘this’? There’s a lot going on right now, Sam,” he interjected.
“This … this … thing between us needs to be over. I will not risk your career. Also, it complicates things, adds stress to an already ridiculously stressful situation. If and when people around here discover—this—you know it will get messy.”
Messy didn’t bother him much, but her continued objections were going to dent his ego a bit.
“Sam, you’ve had a rough day…”
She scowled. “My name is Samantha, and do not patronize me, Hunter. I’m serious.” Her voice sounded deep, hoarse, shaky with residual passion. Her heart was pounding so hard he could see her pulse at her throat.
“I’m not patronizing, but I have to admit to a bit of confusion,” he said. “What kind of ‘messy’ are we talking about?”
Her lips thinned in irritation. “Messy,” she snapped. “The kind were someone ends up getting hurt.”
His brow raised slowly as he began to understand exactly what she was implying. By damn, she thought he was just playing with her? It stunned him a bit. “You don’t trust me.”
“Hell no, I don’t trust you! Hunter, I don’t really even know you. You sure as hell don’t know me,” she said with an edge of anger.
A slow smile curled his lips, and he nodded. “You’re right. We’ll fix that, but you don’t get to call all the shots, babe.”
She tilted her head to the side, and her mouth parted in surprise. “Yes, yes I do, Hunter. I said no, and no means no.”
“You didn’t say ‘no’ to ‘this.’” He knew he was irritating her. “You’ve said ‘please,’ and I believe I’ve even heard you say ‘yes’ a time or two.” She was adorable when she was incensed and sexy as all hell when she was aroused. The combination was a heady mixture he couldn’t resist baiting.
“I’m saying ‘no’ now,” she said through her teeth.
“Absolutely
. Understood.” He nodded, still smiling. “I’ve never wanted to force you, Sam. No is absolute.” He could almost read her mind by watching her changing expressions. He knew her a lot better than she realized, but she didn’t need to know that. “As far as this investigation we’re doing, you’re working with me, and you’ll do things my way.” He pushed away from the desk and walked toward her. He didn’t touch her, he merely waited until she tilted her head up to meet his gaze. “As far as ‘this’ between you and I? I’ll take your ‘no’ very seriously.” He watched her swollen lips part on a shaky sigh. “Make sure you mean it.”
chapter seven
Damn if Hunter didn’t have her feeling discombobulated. She walked around the square, window-shopping, trying to clear her head. Baffled was not something Samantha was used to being. She prided herself on knowing exactly what she wanted, how she wanted it, and how to go about making it happen. Hunter saw right through her bravado. Even when she didn’t see it herself. Trust him? She wasn’t sure she trusted herself.
She went into the drugstore for old time’s sake. It brought back so many memories. When she was little, her daddy gave her money to spend there while he went to the hardware store on the corner.
The familiar bell on the door rang as she entered, and she felt the present fade away. The shop hadn’t changed much at all. It even smelled the same, like vanilla and lemons. Samantha stood still for a moment and let the memories and emotions cycle through her mind.
“Well, will you look here at who just came through the door, John?” Clara’s bright smile hadn’t faded in the least. John Abernathy, the pharmacist, and his wife, Clara Abernathy, were still running the neat little drugstore.
“Little Samantha girl!” John came in from the back of the store wearing his white lab shirt with his name and his profession embroidered on the left side pocket. She couldn’t help but smile. “We were wonderin’ if you’d forgotten us.”
“Never!” Samantha laughed as she returned Clara’s embrace. “I just haven’t had a moment to stop by yet.”
“Of course. We understand. I’m so sorry for your loss, honey. Losin’ Dottie like that was a terrible shock,” John said softly. Clara nodded in agreement.
“Thank you.” She wasn’t sure what else to say. It was a shock, and it was going to take some time before just hearing her aunt’s name didn’t cause her heart to hurt.
“I still can’t understand how it happened. Dottie was never one to take too many pain pills. Besides, I filled that prescription over a month ago when she twisted her ankle real bad.”
“Oh?” Why hadn’t she thought to ask about that sooner? “She’d mentioned spraining her ankle, but she said it was nothing and it was already better.”
Mr. John rubbed his chin. “Well, it weren’t nothin’, but that sounds like Dottie. She was healthy as a horse, always on the go, that one. Maybe it was givin’ her fits and she took too many on accident.” His brows were furrowed, and his voice was soft and reverent. “Sadly, it has been known to happen.”
Samantha nodded in agreement, but she didn’t agree at all. She was pretty sure Mr. John didn’t either by his expression. None of it made sense to anyone who knew her aunt.
“Sit over here at the counter and I’ll fix you something to eat. Are you eatin’ right?” Clara’s concern was sincere.
Lord these well-meaning Southern women would make sure she was plump as a Christmas turkey if she wasn’t careful. “I’m eating just fine, Mrs. Clara. Thank you.”
“Well, at least let me fix you a dish of ice cream. I heard about what happened with the Millers. You must be all shook up.”
Samantha opened her mouth to protest, but John interjected. “Now, Clara,” he chided his wife, who glanced back at him sheepishly. “We know you cain’t talk about such things, darlin’. We’re just glad you’re all right.” He patted Samantha on the shoulder and sat on the stool beside her.
“Thank you, Mr. John. I’m just fine.” She was feeling a bit overwhelmed by all the attention, but it wasn’t unpleasant. The couple had always been a stable presence in Deerhaven and in her life. At least until her family moved away.
Clara put the dish of ice cream in front of Samantha with a smile and then folded her hands. No frills, just two ample scoops of vanilla in an antique glass dish. Yet there was nothing ordinary about it. No use in balking, even if she thought it would do any good. The last thing she wanted to do was disappoint Mrs. Clara, and to be honest, the ice cream looked really good.
“Oh wow, this is delicious,” Samantha said after one bite.
John beamed proudly.
“John makes it himself in the back with fresh cream,” Clara said, grinning.
“Well done, Mr. John.” Samantha took another bite and let it melt in her mouth.
“Now.” Clara leaned on her elbows. “Tell us all about you and the sheriff.”
Samantha nearly choked on her third bite. “What do you mean?” she asked, trying to keep her expression blank as she wiped her mouth.
Clara patted her hand. “Samantha dear, the whole town knows you and our handsome sheriff are sweet on each other. I, for one, think it’s just marvelous. Little Hunter needs someone to love after all he’s been through.”
Samantha nearly choked again, trying not to laugh at Clara calling Hunter “Little Hunter.” There was nothing little about Hunter. Somehow she managed an “Oh?”
“That wife of his did him so dirty,” John added, without bothering to hide his disgust.
“Oh my, yes.” Clara’s expression changed from pleasant and happy as usual, to distressed. “Oh! You didn’t know?”
Samantha shook her head, waiting for the whole story, which might or might not be embellished. Hunter would most likely not want her to know or he would have told her himself. But then there was a lot about Hunter’s past that he hadn’t shared with her.
“Well, let me just tell you,” Clara said with determined indignation. “When Hunter was sent off to war the first time, he hadn’t been gone six months before she started spendin’ her weekends up in Reno. She met up with some wealthy man outta Las Vegas and started messin’ around. She knew better than to bring him to the ranch, I think. Hunter’s ranch hands wouldn’t have let that fly. Talk was she’d spend her weekends away from home, sometimes even weeks at a time. Finally, she sent Hunter a letter tellin’ him she didn’t want him no more. Bless his heart.” She shook her head. “He was just destroyed.”
“That’s why he went and signed up for another tour,” John added sadly. “She’d always been kinda highfalutin’ and prissy. Never understood what the boy saw in her anyway.”
“Well now, John, she could be sweet when she wanted to. She was right pretty, and she certainly knew how to present that big bosom of hers.” Clara’s voice dripped with disdain.
John grunted with distaste. “Psh … pretty is as pretty does, Clara. Besides, I don’t think Hunter was that simple. Wasn’t there somethin’ about a baby?”
“Oh! That’s right! That’s why Hunter married her in the first place. He got her in trouble and was doin’ right by her. Some say she trapped him. But, ya know, I think he really did love her then.”
Samantha sat stunned, listening intently, her heart breaking for Hunter. In her mind, there was nothing worse a woman could do to a man than betray him while he’s risking his life for their country.
“That’s right,” John said. “Said she had a miscarriage, but the rumor is she never was pregnant.”
No. Hunter wasn’t gullible. Samantha was willing to bet real money there’d been a baby. “That’s awful,” was all she could think to say. It was awful. “Where is Kelly now?” There was an edge to her voice that had Clara looking at her with wide eyes and John smirking.
“She divorced Hunter and married that rich Vegas man,” John informed her. “Don’t know what happened with her after that. Heard they had a big fancy wedding in Las Vegas.” John scoffed again. “What a waste of money.”
Well, it was a d
amn good thing Samantha wouldn’t have to come in contact with the wench. She’d have to snatch her bald headed. She didn’t know Kelly, but there was a very real animosity brewing inside Samantha for the woman.
Samantha let the new information sink in and the rage dissipate as she browsed the store. The Abernathys gave local crafters a shelf or two on consignment for little or nothing, always had. It was one of the many reasons she loved the couple, and Samantha believed their generosity was one reason their little shop did so well.
She bought a couple of candles that Mrs. Hickman had made. She thanked the Abernathys for the ice cream and hugged them both, promising to visit again soon. She headed home; her head was spinning with all the information, all the new revelations. Things just kept getting more and more involved and convoluted. Add to that the unexpected emotions flooding through her, and well, it was giving her one hell of a headache.
* * *
Hunter was struggling with his own tangle of thoughts and emotions. What he needed was some fresh air. He walked out to the pasture thinking of Sam. Stubborn little thing was still a pest, but God, he was enjoying every minute of it. He had to be realistic. He had some demons, not like some of his army brothers had, not even close, but he had them just the same.
Then there was Kelly. He hadn’t told Sam about her yet. He wondered if she’d heard. When she found out, or he finally told her about it, how would she react? He clenched his jaw at the thought. It was the past, but it was part of him and Sam had a right to know.
Too much time, energy, and emotion was spent on that particular mistake. The same question nagged him whenever Kelly’s name materialized in his mind. Did she miscarry or did she terminate the pregnancy? The rumor was she lied about the pregnancy, but that wasn’t true. He’d been there when she took the test. He’d driven her to the doctor’s appointment. There’d been a baby. There was no child now, and it didn’t matter at this point what happened. At least that’s what he kept telling himself. He just desperately wanted to put it away.