Confess (The Blue Line Series Book 1) (13 page)

Mitch let his hands roam her, feeling her. Taking her in one fingerful at a time until he’d claimed every part of her with his touch. Only then did he stop kissing her long enough to speak. “For the foreseeable future, Angel, you belong to me. Understand?”

Her mouth hung open in a half pout, half shocked expression, and her gaze stayed glued on his, but she managed to nod.

He smiled and smoothed loose hair from her face with his thumb. She’d given in easy enough this time, but Lacy was a fighter. It wouldn’t always be this easy, and he’d have to be creative with taming her. “Now. What did you have in mind?”

She pressed her chest into him. “Breakfast. I’m starved.”

“Breakfast?” He growled under his breath. “I just kissed the hell out of your mouth and you’re first thought is food?”

“Not exactly my first thought.” Her gaze dropped to his inseam, and he felt himself bulge. “But I have a feeling I’m going to need the stamina.”

She turned to walk away, and her ass swayed, mocking him under too-tight shorts. No man should have to put up with that much temptation and teasing without responding. He reached a hand out and smacked her, hard, on the left ass cheek.

Lacy scrambled to cover her ass with a cupped hand and turned.

For a second, his heart stopped, fear clenched his throat, but there was a smile lingering playfully under her pouting lips. “What the hell was that for?”

“That’s for playing games, Angel.”

“Oh. I’ll keep that in mind for next time.”

Breakfast wasn’t what Mitch had in mind when Lacy suggested meeting behind the bar, but when she insisted, he couldn’t say no.

“The diner is only two blocks away and it’s a nice night. We can walk.” Lacy tossed her hair over her shoulder and smiled that down-home-back-country smile that unraveled him where he stood.

God, she made him melt from the inside out. Made him want to slow down, take things easy. Enjoy himself and the limited time they had together. Not the feeling he was used to having around women, but he didn’t hate it.

The five blocks that encompassed downtown were mostly comprised of boarded up buildings with the occasional little boutique or struggling restaurant. He could see Lacy leading the charge to revitalize downtown so she and Connie could open their wine bar here; a sheik little hole-in-the-wall with mix matched glasses and high end appetizers. He could even see himself talking up prime real state at the bar on a favored stool.

Every third streetlight was dark, leaving pockets of blinding darkness along the sidewalk.

They passed a small billiards bar with music thumping from the open doors followed by cattle calls thrown at Lacy.

Mitch’s fists balled in reflex.

“Calm down, Cowboy.” Lacy dropped her hand to cover his. “It’s innocent fun. They’re regulars at the bar.”

Fun wasn’t what any of the guys whistling from the open bar windows had in mind. He passed with a possessive stare. “Tell me you don’t walk here at night,
alone
?”

“Okay.” She grabbed one of his fists and loosened his fingers enough to slide her palm inside his. “I won’t tell you.”

With his grunt of disapproval, she added, “Seriously lighten up, Detective. It’s Rebel Rapids, and I’m practically royalty. No one in their right mind would mess with the chief’s daughter. Not when everyone in town knows everyone else.”

He was ready to give her a reality check when she flashed her sarcastic little grin in his direction and pulled a mini can of police issued pepper spray from her pocket. “Besides, I’m packing heat.”

“You like pissing me off, don’t you?” His voice lowered.

She tugged on his hand and pulled him under the overhang of a diner door. “Pissing you off is a dangerous sport, but I’ve found the rewards can be worth the risk.”

He couldn’t answer before she swung the door open and sauntered in, swaying her tight body as she passed.

Dangerous sport indeed, but somehow he doubted she was the losing kind.

Lacy slid into a booth in the back and plopped a menu from the holder on the table down in front of him. “McDougall’s is a Rebel Rapids staple. The cook’s amazing. Been here as long as I’ve been alive.”

“That’s not very long.” He couldn’t help the stab. Her age hadn’t been an issue for him. She was younger by a few years, but what she lacked in experiences, she more than made up for in willingness.

“Is it my age that bothers you, or the fact that you’ve been whipped by a younger woman?”

Wow, Lacy was coming out all swings and hits tonight. The sassy little country girl sitting across from him pissed him the hell off and turned him on at the same damn time. His erection wedged against his zipper.

“Whipped?” He grinned. “I seem to remember someone else getting whipped tonight. By my hand.”

Her boot toe raked up his lower leg. “I’m kidding, Cowboy. You’re not that old.” She smiled. “I get punch drunk this time of night. I can’t help it.”

The redheaded waitress finished topping off a mug at a booth in front and made her way over. She put two mugs on the table and filled them before producing a pencil from her hairdo and taking their order.

Lacy spoke up before Mitch had a chance. “Two specials, extra side of bacon for mine.” She grinned at Mitch. “And eggs for him. The guy has a thing about eggs.”

He wasn’t used to a woman taking control, but he had to admit he enjoyed watching Lacy giving orders. As long as she knew in his bedroom, the only orders given would come from him.

The waitress scribbled down the order and gave him a once over that earned her a prudent stare from Lacy.
Jealous.

Lacy had no reason to be, but he couldn’t discount the thought added to his already heightened sexual state.

“So how old are you, anyway?” Lacy redirected her attention to him. She cocked her head to the side, making her hair pool on one shoulder.

“Twenty eight,” he answered.

“Too young to be so serious.”

Her lips tightened into a smart smirk that made him want to pop her behind, again. Maybe they’d have to make this a thing; Lacy’s forwardness grating on his nerves and he correcting her with a smack on the ass.

“Why Rebel Rapids?”

“Why Rebel Rapids, what?” The way she jumped from one subject to another kept his head in a constant spin cycle. He’d no sooner stop to fantasize about the many ways he could keep her in line, then she’d jump to a new topic. He had to rally to catch up.

“I’m sure there are bigger cases in Nashville in need of your super detective sleuthing skills. Why’d you pick to come here?”

“I didn’t pick. I was assigned.”

Her gaze narrowed on him. “Nashville doesn’t assign officers to Rebel. Or, if they did, it was penance for a massive mistake. Detective’s like you don’t end up on small town witch hunts unless they’ve fucked up royally somehow.” She sipped her coffee, her eyes heavy but thoughtful over the rim of the mug.

He hadn’t noticed before, but the way she looked at him, the soft expression on her face, she’d let her guard down if just a hair, and fallen into a comfortable rhythm with him. The sudden need to curl her body up against his chest and protect her unnerved him.

“Now who’s the perceptive one?” A low grumbled laugh rose from his throat. “The truth is I fucked up royally.”

Her eyes flashed wide, mocking. “Really? You?”

“Emotionally unavailable got thrown around the department a few times. You’d think being able to detach yourself from emotions would be a good thing in my line of work but people complained.”

The waitress returned with their food, saving him from having to dig deeper into a lie he already hated throwing between them. She dropped both plates to the table and winked at Mitch before walking away.

He checked Lacy’s reaction and found her frowning and shaking her head at the waitress’s turned back. “She’s got nothing on you.” He doubted anyone in the state of Tennessee could even come close, but he’d keep that to himself, for now.

“Don’t change the subject. How did you mess up?”

Mitch stabbed his eggs and brought the full fork to his lips. “That’s a story for another time.” He sank the hot food in his mouth.

“How do you expect me to sleep with you if I don’t know all your secrets?” Her toe ventured up his leg again, this time working up to his outer thigh.

“I told you before, Angel. Don’t start something you can’t finish.”

Her lips curled. “That’s right. You’re a finisher. I remember.” She pressed the sharp toe of her boot between his knees, and he let them fall to the sides, challenging her to keep moving forward. “So finish the story. What brought you here?”

“A mistake.” Lacy had his body tight and his brain loose. She could ask him just about anything right now, and he’d tell her the truth as long as she kept her foot pressed to his leg.

“What kind of mistake?” She ran her toe down his inner thigh, stopping at his inseam. He reached under the table and pulled the boot free from her foot. Above the Formica tabletop, her gaze connected with his. Below, her toes flanked his growing length and massaged. If she kept it up, he’d have one hell of a walk of shame out of the diner when he came in his jeans. Hell, it might even be worth it. He shifted to give her a better hold.

Mitch eyed the bathroom, a unisex one-stall box in the back of the restaurant. It could work in a pinch.

“So.” Her voice was silk. “Tell me. How’d a guy as controlled as you fuck up royally?”

“I let a murder get to me.” His body flexed at her touch. He’d never admitted as much to anyone, including himself. Lacy had a dangerous effect on him. He could get lost in her and forget why he’d come to Rebel Rapids in the first place. He could let Sadie’s killer walk again if he wasn’t careful.

“So you’re more than just a macho, chauvinistic detective? You’re passionate. I can see how that would happen. But I wouldn’t call that emotionally unavailable. Something else must have happened.”

It felt like she’d taken a fist full of his armor and pealed it back to expose a part of him he’d rather stayed untouched. He leaned in over the table, sparring to regain control of the conversation in the only way he knew how with Lacy. “Your smart mouth is asking for all kinds of trouble, you know that right?”

She grinned over a crisp slice of bacon. “Exactly what kind of trouble are we talking about here, Detective? Are you going to spank me again?”

“Depends.” His voice dropped low in his throat. “Did you like it the first time?”

“I don’t know. What do you think? Have I not been asking for another for the last hour?” Her toes dug into him.

Her words where a challenge.
Damn,
did she have any idea what she did to him? He shifted in his seat again, this time moving further out of her range. If she didn’t stop touching him, baiting him, he’d explode. “Do you have any idea what you’re getting yourself into?”

She smiled, and her eyes tinkled. “Why don’t you enlighten me?”

He leaned in. “First, I’m going to spank you until my handprint is branded into your skin for making me watch your ass wiggle under those tight shorts when we walked in.”

When she didn’t respond, he went on. “Then I’m going to wrap that ponytail around my fist and pull your head back to bite your neck for those cattle calls you ignored on the street.”

She licked her lower lip and bit down.

“And when I know I’ve got you dripping in anticipation, I’m going to flip you on your stomach and take you from behind, sinking my cock in you so deep you won’t know where you end and where I begin.”

Lacy dropped the bacon to her plate. “Put my boot on.” Her words were harsh and clipped.

Shit.
He’d done it again. Misread her signals. Gone too far. “You haven’t finished your breakfast.” He stalled, trying to get a read on the emotion he caught swimming in her darkening eyes.

She shifted forward in the booth and massaged his erection with her foot. “Boot. Now. Home.” Her words came out in shallow breaths. A quiet demand he read loud and clear.

As he tossed a twenty on the table and pressed his hand into the small of Lacy’s retreating back, it occurred to Mitch he might have finally met his match in the bedroom, if he could just keep a murderer and the town chief out of their relationship.

Lacy let the early morning chill sink in as she and Mitch wound their way over the gravel road leading to the river house. The air did little to cool her skin where it brushed against Mitch.

He hadn’t worn his jacket, and she enjoyed the feel of his hard back against her chest and the ripple of his abs under her fingers without the barrier.

Mitch slowed to a stop at the front steps of his lake house. He killed the engine and reached behind for her elbow.

Not used to dismounting, she caught the side of the bike with her boot and stumbled, but before she could fall, Mitch caught her arm and spun her to face him. That left her staring right into his eyes, chest to chest. Toe to toe. Mitch still straddled the Indian, and she now straddled his knee.

Her body shivered at the size of him, taller, broader, faster, able to take complete control of her in any way he saw fit, and she’d be powerless to stop him. Completely at his mercy. Mitch could intimidate the hell out of a Brahma Bull, but in that second, held close, tight, all she felt was protected.

“What?” he asked, cupping one of her elbows in his palm and using his other hand to lift her chin.

Lacy let her gaze rise slowly to meet his. “Nothing.”

He stretched his hands to her shoulders. “You’re scared to be with me?”

Caught off guard, she let out a sigh of resignation. Had it really only been a week since he’d shown up at Charlie’s? A day since she’d challenged him to a game of poker that sent her life spinning into the unknown? A week and he could read her like he’d known her a lifetime.

Contrary to her, Mitch was an open book sexually, but emotionally he’d closed himself so tight she couldn’t get even a peek at the real man behind the badge.

She was more like him than she cared to admit. Closed off. Alone. Hiding behind a mask of perfection. That thought scared her more than his size, or the sexy wicked grin now arching along his lips.