“I need to talk to you.” His deep voice slid into her ears, pushing aside the music and laughter and the frantic beat of her heart.
She stiffened against the urge to turn, wrap her arms around his neck, and taste him again.
Because one taste would lead to two and two to three and three to a one-night stand that would surely destroy any and all efforts to change the town’s perception of her.
That’s what scared her the most. It certainly wasn’t the possibility that she might like sleeping with him. Or that she might want to go back for seconds.
Seconds never figured in with the nice guys she’d been dating lately and while Hunter seemed to be breaking the mold, she wasn’t giving up hope yet. He was just like all the other Chuck and Kevins. Nice. Forgettable.
She twined her fingers around Jimmy/Joe/John’s neck and gave him her most convincing smile. “Don’t mind him. He can wait until we finish our dance. As you can see, I’m kind of in the middle of something right now,” she told Hunter.
But Hunter wasn’t a man to take no for an answer. “It’s official police business. If you don’t cooperate I’ll be obliged to make you.”
“You and what army?”
“Just me.” He sounded none too pleased and a traitorous slither of joy went through her. For a split second, she entertained the crazy hope that she might actually feel some fireworks. That he might feel them. That he might be jealous. “Either you cooperate or I’ll have to arrest you for obstructing justice.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“That’s the law.”
“But this is my favorite song?” She gave Jimmy/Joe/John another sorry-about-this look. “I love Luke Bryan.”
“This is Jason Aldean.”
“Whatever.”
“Maybe you should go with him,” Jimmy/Joe/John cut in. “It could be important.”
“Great advice.” Hunter’s deep voice sounded a split second before he took her hand. “Now get lost, fella.”
“You can’t just come in here and ruin my fun.” Her voice followed him, but he didn’t slow his pace as he strode toward the nearest exit and hauled her behind him.
“I should think you’d want me ruining it. I thought you were trying to change your image?”
“Yeah, well, maybe it’s fine just the way it is.” She shrugged. “Maybe I’m going out of my mind packing boxes and I needed to get away for a little while.”
“Go for ice cream,” he growled. “Or get a hamburger. But steer clear of here.”
“You’re not my boss.”
“I’m everyone’s boss, sugar. I’m the sheriff.” He hit the bar on the exit door, pushed through, and hauled her around the building.
A few more steps and they disappeared around the back, leaving the noise and the music behind. A few more steps and he stopped. She ran into him from behind, her soft curves pressing against him for a quick moment that scrambled his common sense.
“What the hell?” she growled, but the words stopped as he whirled on her. Their eyes clashed. And he knew in that next instant that maybe hauling her outside, away from prying eyes, wasn’t the smartest thing to do considering he was horny as hell and she was the hottest thing in the entire state of Texas.
* * *
Where Jenna had avoided taking a good look at Hunter inside, she couldn’t help but drink in every inch of him now.
He looked so different without his uniform.
So dark and dangerous and … uh-oh.
He wore a black T-shirt, faded jeans, and a look that said he was royally pissed and not the least bit inclined to hide it. Tension rolled off his body in huge waves. His jaw clenched. A muscle ticked wildly near his left cheek. His eyes had clouded to a dark, stormy blue, like the sky just before it opened up with a vicious summer thunderstorm and she felt every bit of the electricity that stirred the air.
She ignored the tiny thrill that slid through her and damned her traitorous body. “What’s so all-fire important that you had to practically abduct me?”
He inched closer, making her crane her neck to look at him as he towered over her. “You’re wrong. Dead wrong.”
“About what?”
“About not wanting a one-night stand.” His voice lowered a notch. “We’re both consenting adults. You’re hot and bothered and I’m hot and bothered. There’s no reason why we ought to be out looking for other people when it’s obvious that we both want the same thing.”
Physically.
* * *
He punched her buttons and she punched his, and that was the problem in and of itself.
She’d given up the right type because they’d been all wrong. No more bad boys.
At the same time, he just looked like a bad boy. Hunter was every bit the fine, upstanding guy she’d been looking for.
The right man to be seen with.
To fall into bed with.
To fall in love with.
She ditched the last thought. She’d given up on the good guys, too. She had too many things going on in her life to fall in love.
If that were even possible and she wasn’t convinced.
She’d never felt it.
She’d never even seen it.
Sure, she knew her parents had loved each other, but she’d been young when they’d died and she didn’t really remember anything except her dad out working and her mom up to her elbows with the cooking and cleaning at home. And her grandfather yelling and cussing at them both because he’d been ornery and just plain mean.
Most of the time.
She ignored the strange tightening in her chest and focused on the man standing in front of her. The right man, her brain screamed.
But it was the wrong time because Jenna was trying to clean up her image and that meant steering clear of all men.
Her head knew that, but her body wasn’t paying attention at the moment.
Her nipples pebbled and her thighs ached.
“You know we should do this.” His deep voice slid into her ears, so deep and mesmerizing. His eyes blazed with a hunger that kicked her in the chest and sent the air whooshing from her lungs. “Right here, right now.”
Excitement bolted through her, followed by a rush of doubt because while she might want to do this, she couldn’t.
She swallowed past the sudden lump in her throat. “I really don’t think—”
“That’s your problem, Jenna. You think too much when it’s not about that. It’s about this.” And then his mouth swooped down and captured hers.
CHAPTER 23
Jenna’s heart beat double-time, the sound thundering in her ears, drowning out her conscience and her fear. She slid her arms around his neck and gave in to the passion pounding through her. No more thinking. Just this. This man. And what he was doing to her.
With the purposeful slant of his lips. The tantalizing dance of his tongue. The strong splay of his hands at the base of her spine. The muscular wall of his chest crushing her breasts. The hardness of his thighs pressed flush against hers.
Yep, he was doing it all right. Silencing her objections. Stirring her passion. Turning her on so high and so fast that she started to think that maybe he was right. Maybe they should do this. Just this once. If she could satisfy the lust, then maybe she could think straight again.
His lips plundered hers, his tongue pushing deep to stroke and explore and leave her breathless. He pressed her up against the side of the building, her back flat against the cold tin. She felt the pulse of the music from inside, the vibration stirring her excitement.
And then he leaned into her, his body flush against hers, so that she could feel his excitement.
He caught the straps of her tank top, shoving them down her arms along with her bra straps, until the material sagged at her waist and her breasts spilled free.
Dipping his head, he caught one rosy nipple between his teeth. He flicked the tip with his tongue before opening his mouth wider. He drew her in and sucked until a moan worked its way up her throat.
&nb
sp; He pinned her to the wall, pressing one hard thigh between her legs that forced her wider until she rode him. The denim seemed practically nonexistent between them in those next few moments as she rode him, and then it disappeared for real as he unfastened her jeans and shoved the material down her hips.
Strong fingers found her hot slit and she gasped. He inched deeper, opening her, pushing in, and a shudder ripped through her.
He shifted, moving and rubbing, working her as he caught her lips in a fierce kiss. His hand worked its magic, learning every secret as he plunged and played until she stiffened at the sudden rush of sweet sensation. A small cry ripped past her lips and a sizzling heat pulsed through her body as she grasped at the strong arms holding her tight. She floated for the next few seconds, the vibration of the music pounding the wall, keeping time with the throbbing in her body for a long moment before her eyelids finally fluttered open and she found him staring down at her, into her.
A rush of panic went through her and she turned, putting her back to him, desperate to understand the sudden fear, to escape it.
* * *
“Don’t,” he murmured, the one word shredding what was left of her resistance. “Don’t turn away.”
“I’m not. I’m making things more interesting.” She pressed her bottom against him in blatant invitation, and he was more than happy to oblige.
Strong fingers worked at the button on his jeans and then she felt the sag of denim. His erection sprang forward, hard and greedy, pushing against her for a split second before he pulled away.
“I need a condom,” he murmured, his voice yanking her back to reality for a split second.
Her breath caught, her body blazing, as he retrieved a condom and worked it on with a speed that said he knew his way around the bedroom, and every other place she could possibly imagine. Because he wasn’t some nice guy. He was as bad as they came. Dangerous.
The realization stirred a ripple of excitement, followed by another jolt of fear.
One that quickly drowned in a wave of heat as she felt the brush of knuckles against her backside as he positioned himself. His thick head nudged apart her slick folds and pressed into her just a fraction.
She closed her eyes against the slight pressure and caught her bottom lip. The pressure was so sweet as he stretched and filled her inch by decadent inch.
Slowly.
As if he knew just where to touch her and for how long. As if he knew her.
Her wants. Her desires. Her fears.
That her hopes and dreams were futile. That she would never be anything more than a wild child Tucker. That she didn’t want to be.
The notion struck and the word was out before she could stop it. “Harder,” she breathed, and he quickly obliged.
He filled her completely and her heart paused. The air lodged in her throat and her body throbbed, contracting around him, holding tight as if she never meant to let go. A tremor went through her and she fought to control the heat slip-sliding along her nerve endings, threatening her sanity and her control.
The hard tin vibrated against her fingertips, reminding her that she wasn’t just spiraling out of control. She was doing it far from the safety of four walls. Reality crept in, along with the sounds drifting from inside the honky-tonk. The music and the laughter and the voices.
The notion sent a burst of excitement through her and she stiffened.
“We can’t—”
“We are,” Hunter’s deep voice slid into her ears as his cock slid into her wet heat.
She closed her eyes, relishing the sensation all of five seconds before she heard a man’s unfamiliar voice.
Just follow me, darlin’, and we’ll head back to my place.”
Jenna felt Hunter’s muscles tense. Her eyes opened and her head snapped up in time to see the couple that stumbled around the side of the building and headed for the row of cars parked near the treeline out back.
“Screw that,” the woman murmured. “The backseat is just fine by me.”
Jenna held her breath as gravel crunched and metal creaked. The door slammed, but the voices still carried through the open car window.
And while Jenna couldn’t see anything thanks to a nearby dumpster that blocked the view, she could still hear them, which meant they could hear her.
The panting.
The moaning.
And damned if the notion didn’t excite her more than it should have considering she’d turned over a new life and given up her old wild and wicked ways.
The realization zapped her like a lightning bolt and she tried to pull away, but Hunter was there, surrounding her, filling her up, his voice as stirring as it was soothing. “You’re not scared of an audience, are you?”
“Who? Me?” She swallowed against her suddenly dry throat. “Of course not.” At least she’d never been scared before. She was bold, wild, bad.
But he wasn’t.
That’s what she kept telling herself despite his every touch which proved otherwise.
“I was just thinking that you might not be comfortable with this. You are the sheriff.”
“Yeah,” he murmured, but her words didn’t seem to slow him down in the least. One hand slid up her abdomen to her breast and he caught her nipple. He pinched the ripe tip until a burst of heat zapped her brain.
Her lips parted on a gasp. “I … I wouldn’t want someone to hear us. For your sake.”
“Don’t worry about me, sugar. I can handle myself.” He slid his left arm around her, his fingers skimming her rib cage as he caught her other nipple. Now both hands plucked and rolled the sensitive tips until her knees went weak. “But if you want me to stop…”
“Yes,” she managed a split second before he thrust into her. Still she caught the cry that curled up her throat and clamped her mouth shut as he started to move. “I mean, we really should.”
In and out. Back and forth.
“Now,” she added, but she didn’t pull away or tense up. Instead, she pressed herself against him and arched against his delicious touch.
The backseat action going on nearby soon faded into the beat of her own heart as she drew him deeper, held him longer. The seconds ticked by as the pressure between her legs built. Tighter and tighter. Until every muscle went taut and just like that, she started to unwind. Sensation drenched her and she exploded around him. Her head fell back into the curve of his neck and a groan worked its way up her throat.
Before she could bite her lip against the sound, his mouth covered hers as he moved faster and plunged harder, deeper, stronger. Convulsions gripped him. She milked him, her slick folds clenching around his throbbing penis until a growl sizzled across her nerve endings.
He buried himself one last time and leaned into her. The rough wall rasped her overly sensitive nipples and desire speared her again. Every nerve in her body sizzled. She closed her eyes, relishing the aftershocks of her release, which swept through her and kept the fear at bay for the next several moments. Until reality washed back in and she became aware of the jeans down around her ankles. The warm night air slithered over her bare skin and a car engine grumbled nearby.
* * *
Close.
So close.
So what?
The notion struck and she stiffened.
“I really need to go,” she blurted. “It’s getting late and I have inoculations tomorrow at the Garber farm.” She ducked underneath the arm to her left and put a few safe inches between them as she struggled with her clothes. “I, that is, it was nice. Thanks.” And then she walked away because the last thing she needed was for Hunter DeMassi to see the gratitude blazing in her eyes. The wonder. The damned happiness.
Because Jenna Tucker had had her first decent orgasm in a long, long time. And her second. And they’d both been fantastic.
Not mediocre. Or decent. Or nice.
But fan-freaking-tastic.
Of all the rotten luck.
CHAPTER 24
A super-spectacular orgasm was
good.
Jenna came to that conclusion after a night spent tossing and turning and damning her bad luck.
She’d always been a half-full kind of girl and the more she thought about it, the more she refused to worry over what had happened with Hunter.
Sure, it had caught her off guard. He wasn’t an it type of guy and so she hadn’t been ready for the wow factor.
But obviously he was an it guy in sheep’s clothing. That could be a good thing. She had an itch that she needed to scratch and who better to do it with the wrong type of guy—a total badass—disguised as the right type of guy—Mr. Nice and Forgettable?
She had no intention of flaunting a sexual relationship with Hunter DeMassi. But it wouldn’t exactly spell disaster for her newfound reputation if someone saw them together and thought they were dating.
Yes, this entire situation might be a blessing in disguise. She could beef up her good-girl image by dating the most well-respected man in town, and burn off her lust behind closed doors. It was a win-win.
Provided Hunter felt the same way.
Doubt niggled at her, pushing and pulling at the confidence that she’d worn for so many years. She tamped down on the unfamiliar feeling and gathered her courage.
There was only one way to find out.
* * *
“Can I help you?” Marge Sawyer Laraby was in her midsixties. She had thinning gray hair that was cut in a short bob and way too much green eye shadow. One carefully drawn-on eyebrow arched as she stared up from the front desk at the police station.
“I’m looking for the sheriff.”
“Is that so?” The eyebrow arched even higher. “Police emergency?”
“No, no. It’s more personal.”
Marge opened her mouth to ask another question, but Hunter rounded the corner at that moment, a cup of coffee in one hand and a case file in the other. He looked a far cry from the hunky guy who’d seduced her last night and taken her over the top in the back parking lot of the honky-tonk. A sliver of disappointment rolled through her, followed by a rush of apprehension.
But then she caught the gleam in his eyes and her stomach hollowed out. Excitement chased up her spine and she knew that she’d definitely met her wolf in sheep’s clothing.
Tempting Texas Page 14