by Shirl Anders
Thank God for attached bathrooms, but—
“Oh my Lord,” she cried, looking at her smeared makeup in the mirror.
What was she—a drunken whore?
“Oh Lord,” she whispered.
Coco turned away from the disaster she saw in the mirror, and then she saw a shower.
She had to get the crap off her face. Fast.
So she stumbled to the shower as she stripped her clothes off. She had the shower door pulled open when she realized all she had left on was her high heels. So she held on to the open glass shower door while she bent over to unstrap them and then kick them off. Then she went inside the doublewide shower, which was tiled in amazing travertine.
She turned the water on to full blast, because she was freaking going to wash away her life, in the most amazing shower she’d ever been in.
But it was halfway through her shower when she realized that she wasn’t in a hotel room, because suddenly she remembered electric green eyes and a devastatingly masculine smile. That got her to “ohmylording” under the shower spray.
She was naked in some unknown man’s house!
“What are you, an idiot?” she exclaimed, spitting water out of her mouth.
But she knew that some ingrained mode of feminine survival had come to her rescue and moved her to clean up, before she might again see the most attractive man she’d ever seen.
So instead of freaking out, she lifted her chin, and then she washed her hair.
After she’d finished, found a towel, and tiptoed back into Officer Finn’s bedroom, she realized it was not yet seven o’clock.
“Maybe he’s not back yet,” she whispered, wondering what she should wear, because she hated to put on her outfit from the day before.
That was when her eyes landed on the motorcycle boots, a shoulder holster with the gun still inserted hanging over the back of a bedroom chair, and a leather jacket across that same chair.
“That was not there last night,” she whispered.
He was home.
Coco actually ran into his closet; there was no way she wanted Officer Finn to catch her in just a towel and see her bare thighs in the light of day.
Finn smelled bacon ... then his neck popped.
“Hell,” he muttered, gripping his neck as he tried to straighten from his position, slumped on his old leather couch, which was too lumpy to be sleeping on.
Damn, his neck was going to kill him the rest of the day ... he just knew it. Then when he rolled, he found the kink in his back to add to his neck. He nearly landed on the floor in his only room with furniture, besides his bedroom, which he liked to call a den, because he’d always wanted a damn den.
He managed to not nosedive, but push up, which made him groan. Yeah, kinked back.
“Getting too old,” he muttered.
Then he sat on the edge of his couch, rubbing his face, and not able to stop smelling the damn bacon, which was making his stomach growl, while he realized why he’d slept on his fucking lumpy-ass couch in the first place. His elbows hit his knees and his head turned to the doorway.
“Coco,” he whispered.
Fucking hell ... it had to be her cooking bacon. The two combined might be some kind of wet dream. The three combined definitely were. Coco in his house, her cooking bacon, and her cooking at all were definitely worthy of being aroused over. He finally stood in his stocking feet and realized a moment of tension. It was too fucking close ... too intimate.
He started for the door.
“Don’t fucking like this,” he lied to himself.
He forced himself to go take a shower so as not to look as if he was running to see the beautiful woman cooking food in his kitchen. Yeah, he’d shower ... and take a long time doing it.
Ten minutes later, he strode into his kitchen with his tee shirt still damp and glued to his chest where he’d not taken the time to properly dry off.
Abruptly, he halted with a growl forming in his throat.
“Take that fucking dress off,” he commanded sharply, while feeling the punch in his gut.
Coco whirled from his stove with a spatula held high and a squeak of surprise on her full, kissable lips. Her chest heaved and his gaze drew down, because the dress she should not be fucking wearing was way too small for her big tits, and it made the whole top of the long dress very sexual.
It was tight, showing her nipples, no bra, and deep cleavage ... did he say hard damn nipples? Then, because the dress had been meant for his ex, Katie, who was a slender woman with no curves and barely any tits (what had he been thinking about liking that?) the bottom of the dress hugged hips that curved like he’d never seen a woman’s hips curve before.
And his dick got instantly hard.
Fuck.
Over-voluptuous, never-ending curves.
“W-what, sugar?” Coco stuttered.
Damn, she looked spectacularly fucking hot in that dress, and it pissed him off, as he stomped closer and winced because the sharp movement hurt his back and neck, damn it.
“Find. Something. Else. To. Wear,” he snapped.
Then he found out a lot more about Coco, and it blew him away.
“Sugar, you never talk to a lady like that,” she said sweetly, and there was glittering challenge in her dark eyes. “Especially one cooking your bacon, honey. You want me to take this off, you ask me nicely.”
Her perfect chin came up, and he realized that her eyes looked so attractive and pronounced because her hair was wet and not as big and blown-out as yesterday.
“Or what?” he asked her, not giving an inch on his sharp intensity.
She looked around, and then looked back at him, tilting her head to the side with her tooth hooked over her plump bottom lip. Every motion looking enticing as hell, and Finn thought maybe it was all a feminine thing she was doing to tempt him.
“Or you’ll never get in these panties, baby. Ever,” she said, and then she turned back toward the stove, leaving his sight filled with her luscious, round ass, while a low growl of frustration came from his throat.
What a fucking dare, and he didn’t really think she had anything to back it up.
In fact, he’d bet his ass she was blushing right then, and damn if he didn’t see some red on the back of her neck, which was softly showing from where she’d pinned her long, dark hair up.
Finn closed his eyes, silently counting to twenty. Coco didn’t know the dress she was wearing was a dress he’d bought for his ex-wife. Coco didn’t know his soon-to-be ex-wife wouldn’t wear the damn thing, because she’d asked him if he were trying to make her look like a slut.
Coco didn’t know a lot of things about that damn dress, which had cost him too much money, and at a time when it had been hard to afford. It had also cost him too much masculinity, being accused of wanting to dress his wife up like a slut for the sole purpose, she said, of getting sex.
Finn didn’t even realize that Coco was next to him, until he smelled her clean scent, right before he felt her soft hand on his bicep.
“I’ll go change,” she whispered. “I didn’t know.”
Finn’s eyes snapped open.
“No,” he uttered.
He grabbed her arm, which was nearly behind him, because she was leaving. He turned, pulled, and dropped his head.
Then he was fucking kissing her.
Four] Want You Five Ways
Coco reared back from a totally out-of-this-world surprise kiss and she slapped Finn, and then she felt so bad about it she wanted to cry.
But to keep him from seeing her nearly in tears ... she ran on bare feet to his bedroom. The entire time, she was trying to stop shaking, because the best kiss she’d had in her entire life had just happened.
It was like an explosion running through her body from the moment Finn’s firm lips had touched her mouth. Her mama would have been proud of her, because she hadn’t crumbled into a complete puddle over it. Instead, she’d stuck in there for more, when all she wanted to do was die in bliss.
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Coco wondered how a simple kiss could feel like it had, as she touched her lips and felt hot tears on her cheeks. She’d had kisses before, some that weren’t from Gordon, who had never kissed very well, and she’d never felt such a devastating power of attraction before.
“It was my wife’s dress.”
Coco didn’t move ... didn’t turn at the growled voice behind her.
“The dress was for her.”
Coco made a wounded sound. Immediately, she started trying to tear the dress off, still crazy over a kiss, and then hurt that he was buying dresses for his wife, which meant he was still involved with—
“No, baby,” Finn growled deep in her ear, while his big hands caught hers, holding the dress halfway up her chest.
One more tug and she’d be bare-breasted. Finn’s muscular arms were around her from behind and his hard body was braced into hers. She shook her hands, trying to free them.
“I didn’t mean it that way,” he told her, and he pulled her snugly into his strong body, not crushing her, but not letting her go.
“I don’t want your wife’s dress,” Coco whispered, wishing he would let her go, before he found out how freaking turned on she was.
She had to get out of there!
“It cost a lot of money, Coco. Money I didn’t have at the time, and she thought I bought it to get sex from her.”
Coco stilled, stopping her small struggles against his hold. She was struck immobile, because she’d bet Finn didn’t share private things like that with many people. Then she inhaled a huge breath, because she was going to pass out if she didn’t and because she had become painfully furious for him.
“That bitch,” Coco said, and she really wasn’t a swearing kind of girl. But what he’d told her was just so—“It’s so mean. And did she not take wedding vows? And what did she think those meant?”
“Yeah.” Finn’s voice rumbled over her.
Now that being righteously pissed off over Finn’s wife being so bitchy was wearing off, Coco came back to the fact that the best-built man she’d felt in her entire life was holding her—that close to baring her breasts.
Yikes.
It took a second for her to woman up and not crumble like a girl.
Then she managed to say, “Sugar, you want me to take it off, I will.”
She’d said it up under his chin, and her woman-up noticed the hard ridge she could feel so close behind her.
Ohmylord, Officer Finn was hard, and it was over her.
There were many things she could do in that situation. Many reasonable, ladylike things, such as asking him to release her, and then she could go to his closet to get her old clothes. Also, she could pretend the kiss from heaven had not just happened. But she thought they both knew it had just happened. She was certain there was no way Finn was not affected by that kiss.
Well, obviously he was, because she could feel it.
“Should not have kissed you like that, lady,” he muttered.
That so surprised Coco, she instantly freaked out, and all the things she’d been thinking but holding back just exploded out of her, with Patty Ann’s voice ringing in her ears.
Jump him!
Coco broke Finn’s hold and whirled in his arms. Finn’s hands came up to steady her bare shoulders. He was taller than she was and she was barefooted, so she had to leap—
Thank God he caught her, and she latched her arms over his shoulders, which meant the too-tight dress she had pulled halfway down before slipped even lower. Then she was kissing Officer O’Neil with her very bare breasts caught between them.
He was not taking that kiss back, and she was not letting the opportunity get away, because she had passion built up from a decade-long passionless marriage.
Jesus Christ, Coco’s ass was better in Finn’s hands, and her large, firm breasts were dick-jerkingly better against his chest, where Finn could feel what had to be the biggest fucking hard nipples he’d ever felt pushing against his muscle. But it was her mouth and those full, plump, and soft lips that put the growl in his chest and made him grind against her as their mouths attacked each other with blasts of urgent lust.
He’d known from kissing her in the kitchen that there was some kind of off-the-wall chemistry going on between them. He’d never had a kiss ignite him so fast. He’d never had the feeling that he could just kiss a woman for hours and be happy about it.
Coco’s mouth was all kinds of dirty, but sweet, then provocative, but alluring, topped off with full lips that were so soft and kissable he could taste them for days. His growls of arousal had to be filling her mouth as he swept his tongue against hers, and he threw away the notion that he wasn’t fucking doing this with any woman whose nature he hadn’t clocked yet.
Even as he knew he was tossing out the law he’d made for himself after his ex-wife’s shit, he was lifting Coco up to take her to his bed. He fucking had to see those tits he could feel against his chest. He hadn’t realized they were bare between them when he tossed her onto the foot of his bed and then came down over her, braced on locked arms.
“Christ,” he muttered, looking at huge tits and pink damn nipples as big as half dollars. His cock actually bucked in his jeans. To hide his reaction, blown away by lust, and to man up, he said, “Decided I love this damn dress.”
Coco’s hands had reached up and she was trying to cover her breasts, which pissed him off. They were going to have none of that in their bed. And somehow, he knew it was going to be their bed.
“Bella, hands down,” he growled. “Fucking now.”
“Officer,” she squeaked.
Finn’s eyes raised and narrowed on her dark brown eyes filled with endless passion, but also anxiousness.
“Detective special agent,” he growled, and her hands lowered to clutch his forearms braced on the bed. It went through him like a rocket that she had obeyed him.
He knew she started to say “detective,” but “Deek” was the only thing she’d gotten out of her mouth before his lips closed around the lance of her hard, jutting nipple.
“Lord,” she exclaimed through a moan, in a throaty voice he knew he was going to fucking love hearing in and out of bed. “Oh Lord, I have a man’s mouth on my nipple,” she drawled, and then moaned in her sexy Southern accent. Her hands latched on to his head with a fierceness that kept him working her nipple, which then made her screech a little. “Lord, Deek.”
He tongued the hot point, whipping it as he growled deeply and she arched up, rubbing against the hard cock in his jeans. He’d fucking thought about having a woman, a passionate woman, for well over a year. To say he was bottled up was an understatement. To say he had dirtier thoughts than he’d had in his entire life was the truth.
It took a lot of effort not to rip her clothes off as he grabbed her big tits and he played with them like a healthy man who had been without tits to lick, grope, and fondle for far too long. And it seemed his hot little baby liked titty play, because she was throatily moaning the name she’d given him, “Deek,” while insistently nudging his cock with her mound.
If nothing fucking else, he was gonna make this sweet thing climax, he thought, biting her thick nipple a little harder, until she squealed and then shuddered. He released it, and then tongued it until she moaned. She was firing up and becoming wild for him.
“Yeah, bella,” he growled, nipping and then soothing her taut nipples. “That’s it. Get hot for me, baby.”
He drove his hand under her ass and spread his fingers to lift her rolling hips so he could grind into her harder.
Fuck.
“Deek,” she whispered passionately. “Sugar, I can’t believe—Oh Lord, I can’t believe.” Her long fingernails were scratching his back as she tugged his tee shirt up his chest.
Then he had to have those nipples and those fucking big breasts against his skin.
They both hissed with his tee shirt collared around his neck as the feeling exploded across their hot flesh, pressed into each other for the first time.
It was insane; he’d never gone after big tits before, or a full, rounded, hot ass.
Coco had never been to the place she was at in her mind—it was arousal overload. It was throbbing and crazy need, but at the same time, it was just exploding sensations and she couldn’t think one coherent thought through.
This was what she’d craved, this was what she’d needed for years, this was who she was meant to be, and this was what she was meant to have. Passion meeting passion, arousal meeting arousal, and lust meeting lust.
She didn’t care if it was right or wrong.
She didn’t care if it was a one-night fuck stand. She’d take it.
She didn’t care if it made her a slut.
She hoped so.
What she cared for was the man’s hot, muscular body that was ripped and flexing with sinew over her.
Ohmylord.
She had to do everything in her power to keep his hot and hard body rubbing hers.
She found out that meant she had to submit—
Gladly.
The next thing she heard was a ripping sound. Her badass hard-bodied detective had just ripped up the skirt on her dress, past the place where she had no panties on.
Rawrr.
“Gonna lick deep, bella. Open for me.” He pounced like a big predator and her all girly parts were his prey.
Sprawled nude across Detective Special Agent Finn’s bed, Coco came like she never had in her entire life! With a man’s mouth on her clit and sounding like the queen of porn, while he held her down and licked her even harder. Then her legs were up over his head in a wanton display as her eyes actually rolled back in her head.
“This is sex. Ohmylord, I knew it!” she cried, because her pussy had been virgin to a man’s hot mouth.
Coco heard more ripping as she shuddered through rolls of climaxing pleasure, then she was nude, and Finn was over her with his green eyes charged as if fire burned in them. Her bare legs hooked his jean-clad hips as she leaped up to catch his mouth and drag him down on top of her. Then she pushed, trying to roll him onto his back—she needed to get his jeans off! Fast.