Cuff Me Lacy (4 page)

Okay? What the hell was okay about wondering where Paddy had been all night while Bill was proposing to her? Then, she had the audacity to watch the man undress and get off at his expense.

She inhaled and stopped the spastic response to a simple and courteous question. “It was a nice night. Did you have fun?"

"Oh, yeah. Met up with Sassy Suzie and Tasty Traci by the pub for a few drinks."

A new coughing fit set on. He'd spent the evening with Suzie Fletcher-Vallone-Barret the vamp who was twice married and divorced, and ‘triple D’ Traci, who didn't own a single skirt bigger than Chrissie's belts?

"Hey, you alright?"

"Yeah,” she responded, rubbing her arms. “It's a bit chilly tonight."

"Felt rather heated—I mean hot—to me.” He grinned, and she could swear his cock bucked against that damned terry cloth. “Put some clothes on. I'm coming over."

The humming of the vibrator must have caused her to mishear. She reached down to turn it off. “What?” But Patrick was no longer at the window.

Cagney appeared and nudged her snout against Chrissie's toes. Chrissie knew that once the dog was awake, ignoring her wasn't going to work, but she pulled her knees to her chest and shifted away. Her furry friend fit her head under Chrissie's hand and insisted on some attention. Cagney wanted to play.

"Not now, girl. I need to get cleaned up."

Stripping off of her shirt, she ran in to the bathroom and pulled down her panties. Turning on the shower, she stepped under the cold water, squeezed out some soap and washed away the evidence of her previous activity in forty-five seconds flat.

The essentials were rinsed, so she wrapped her bathrobe around her and searched in her nightstand for a pair of pajamas or a gown.

Nothing.

She pulled on a pair of gray sweat shorts and had her hand laced into a white men's tank style undershirt when the doorbell rang.

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Patrick saw her bare feet coming down the stairs, and then the door opened.

He stepped through and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “You should hang a little curtain over this window for some privacy. I could see straight up the stairs and half of the living room from out there."

"Well, hello to you, too."

He looked into her dark eyes and raised a mocking brow. “Do you always feel the need to shower at three in the morning?” The moist droplets on her breasts soaked her shirt and displayed her quarter sized nipples through the translucent material.

"What is this? The third degree?"

"No,” he responded, running his palm down her damp back. Settling on the curve over her buttocks, he knew that he had to have her. “But I have one more question if you don't mind."

Her eyes grew big and her skin flushed to a light crimson color. Her chest rose and fell, and she shifted her weight from left to right and then back again.

"Did you think about me while you were out tonight?” he asked.

The answer flashed in her eyes, relaying what her mouth didn't.

Her warm breath caressed his thumb as it skimmed her lips. “Good."

He pulled her against him and sealed his mouth to hers. This time, she wasn't going to turn away. No denying the truth.

Lacy belonged to him.

Her body flowed against his like honey on whipped butter: responsive, warm, and all-consuming. Wrapping her in his embrace, he crushed the woman he'd dreamt about for ages against his chest. His tongue feasted on her delectable mouth and his greedy hands increased his agitation as they encountered more of the damp material covering her body.

"Tonight, you're mine."

Nodding, she entwined her fingers behind his neck and brought her lips to the side of his throat. “Take me,” she whispered, and her tongue rasped over the length of his neck, sending shockwaves through his body.

Chrissie closed her eyes, threw her head back as his hold settled behind her thighs and lifted her into his arms. His lips roamed over her flesh as he carried her.

The scenario playing out was surreal. In the strong masculine arms of the man she'd fantasized about, she simply felt, and her body tensed like a well strung violin under his touch.

The crash of porcelain on tile had her eyes darting open to see Patrick clearing the remainder of the table with his forearm.

"In the kitchen?"

"I like my treats at the table,” he replied, lowering her back flat against the wooden surface. Tearing the flimsy undershirt down the middle with no effort, he hooked his thumbs in her shorts and urged her hips to rise before pulling them off. His dark eyes flared with desire.

"And you are a feast that deserves to be devoured properly."

His fingers closed around her ankles and brought her feet to rest on the table, opening her pussy to his full view. Fire shot through her core and moisture collected in her folds as he gazed at her and scraped his teeth over his lower lip in obvious appreciation.

With remarkable and gentle fervor, his hands cupped her breasts, and she discovered his palms
were
calloused from the wood chopping. She let out a deep breath as his thumb pads concentrated on her nipples. He lowered his head and delved his tongue into her belly button.

The scent of spicy soap on his freshly showered body mixed with the aroma of her excitement, created an alluring bouquet of ecstasy that engulfed them. Leaving a blazing trail across her skin, he traveled up until their lips met. Hungry for his taste, she lifted her head and deepened the kiss as her fingers worked feverishly to remove his shirt.

Now bare-chested, he leaned against her and fanned the flames burning within as he suckled a nipple and his teeth gently grazed straining peak.

She bucked, and his rough denim bulge grated against her clit, splintering erotic pleasure to every inch of her. Tremors overtook her body, and when he rubbed a little higher, he detonated a powerful orgasm she couldn't control.

"That's it, Lacy,” he urged, the words smothered against her breast. He pushed his clothed groin against her bare clit again, causing another mind-blowing climax to rock her world.

As she was riding the second wave, he moved away. She moaned in protest and squirmed to reconnect.

"I want to see your eyes. Open them,” he demanded. He slipped a finger in her pulsating hole and his thumb circled her nub. The orgasm intensified. “Open your eyes."

Terrified he'd stop if she didn't do as he asked, she looked into his dark gaze, but was unable to focus. His finger hooked into that special spot and stroked her desire into ecstasy with such perfect expertise.

"Oh, Patrick! Yes!"

She thrust her pussy against his hand and climaxed so hard that she squeezed her legs shut, crushing his hand between her thighs.

Quivering and trembling, she groaned out her relief, believing the pleasure was over. But instead of holding her and settling her soul, he lifted her higher and inserted a second finger. “Not yet, honey. You're not done."

Her body hummed to the tune he conducted. Burying her hands in his hair, she held on and refused the urge to end her bliss and reciprocate. Guilt edged in the back of her mind, but delight and gratification overtook it by scores.

Patrick must have sensed it, for his immobilizing stare locked on hers and stole the air from her lungs. “Don't think. Don't decide. You agreed that you're mine tonight, and, Lacy, I do what I want with what belongs to me."

Damn, he'd changed. Paddy really was left back in high school and even though she really liked him then, Chrissie was more than happy with the man that was with her right now.

Patrick slid her up on the table and spread her legs as wide as her muscles allowed, trailing wet kisses up and down the insides of her thighs. Her clit throbbed as he moved his fingers over her, spreading the creamy results over her grateful pussy.

"You're intoxicating,” he said, removing one hand from between her legs and replacing it with the other. He lifted his finger to his mouth and brought it to his lips. “You're also addicting,” he added.

Adjusting her hips, he opened her sensitive folds and licked and nibbled on her throbbing nub without removing his fingers.

The air dissipated, and she struggled to keep her eyes open. “I can't handle it any longer."

Pain and pleasure mingled in her core, stretching a thin and intense line between the two sensations. The vibrations spread over her and blended until she saw stars and climaxed again. Her body thrashed on the hard wood.

He gathered her in his arms and guided her through yet another orgasm.

"Heaven,” she breathed. “This must be heaven.” Tonight marked the pinnacle of her sexual experience. She'd never come back to back like this before, and she was stunned at the amount and the intensity of convulsions her pussy endured.

"You handled it just fine, honey.” He brought his lips to hers and kissed her long and sweet. “I think you're just about ready for me, Officer Lacy."

Ready?

Her heart raced. There was more? The blood streamed through her veins and her now empty center in expectation. Fuck, she was wanton.

She would do anything to have him. Her hand wedged against his groin, and she cupped his balls and felt his hard length strain against his jeans. Fumbling with the button on his waist, she struggled to fit her fingers near his engorged cock.

Patrick clamped his hand on hers and pulled it away. “No, officer. This time, you're taking the orders.” He placed her hands on the side of the table and closed her fingers over the ledge. Suckling each of her nipples in turn, he took a last hit of the sensitive peaks before he straightened from her and stepped back. “Now, slide off the table,” he demanded.

Stunned, she searched his eyes for answers.

Nothing. He shuttered all expression from his gaze and his lips formed a stern line. “On your feet, officer."

Heat chafed her ass as she slid across the bare surface and her toes touched the floor.

"Turn and spread them."

Tingles ran over her body as she pivoted and faced the table, placing her palms behind her head. “You going to arrest me?"

He tapped at the inside of her feet with his shoes and moved her legs apart. “No, Lacy.” The sound of metal grating on metal joined a low growl as he lowered his zipper. “I'm going to let you take me in."

Fitting his cock between her cheeks, he wrapped an arm across her breasts and lowered her until she pressed against the wood.

When she was secure between the two hard surfaces, he straightened and grasped the sides of her hips, jerking her back against him so that his long thick shaft fit snug against her pussy. Bending his knees, his hard cock slid forward and he rubbed her clit with his burning, velvet tip, sending volts of electricity from her center to every appendage.

Chrissie hugged the table with wide arms, surrendering to his hold.

"Good girl,” he said, moving the head of his cock to her hole. “Who are you?"

She swallowed hard and managed, “Officer Chrissie Hansen."

She tried to take him in, but he teased her and pulled away. “Not the right answer."

Damn! He was playing games and he expected her to think. She was about to go off. Again. Moisture trickled down her thigh and she squirmed against him. “Please."

"I like it that you beg, but I need you to tell me who you are. I want to know."

"Fuck, Patrick. You know who I am.” Her heart was in her throat and her tits were squished on the table while her ass was up in the air. How much better did he need to know her?

"What's your name?"

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes.
Name?
His cock stirred at her greedy entrance and her mind went blank.

"You're mine and mine alone,” he said, running his thick head back up to her clit.

Mine.

His.

Sighing in relief, she smiled and answered, “Lacy-pants."

"Yes,” he replied, and plunged in her with a swift move. “My Lacy."

Stilling to adjust to his size, she bit her lip and held her breath. When he moved again, she joined him, circling her hips as he pumped and holding him tight inside her.

Skin slapped on wet skin, and when he quickened the pace, his balls hit against her clit, accentuating their joining. He reached high inside, stroked her internal clit, and stars filled her vision.

"Oh, Patrick! Yes! Yes!” she cried out as they climaxed as one.

He pulled out and maneuvered her like a limp doll in his arms, holding her against his chest until her breathing returned to normal.

His eyes gleamed and he smiled. “That's the
third
time you've said my name like that tonight. I could get used to it."

"Third time?” she breathed.

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Lacy's soft rhythmic breathing tickled his chest, and Patrick gathered her close in his embrace and kissed the top of her head.

He loved her. There was no doubt. He'd always loved her. And now that she was in his arms, he'd never let his Lacy go.

Rays of light flooded the room, but she kept sleeping. Hoping the intense need that burned in him would not wake the beauty beside, he stared at her, but did not touch her. After a long while, he turned on his back and focused on the ceiling, considering their options.

Her job was a concern. She was great at it, receiving awards and accommodations and moving up the ranks quickly. However, none of her accomplishments diminished the fact that being a cop was extremely dangerous. He couldn't stand the possibility of losing her. He wanted to tell her as much, but knowing this woman all too well, he knew she'd never agree to be a stay-at-home Mrs. MacKlick.

And what was wrong with being a stay-at-home wife and mother? Nothing. He wanted that in her in his home, his life, more than anything, but Lacy's dreams were different.

They'd talk about it together. Just as soon as he was sure she felt like he did.

He continued to stare at the fan while stealing glimpses at her lush lips and angelic face. Her dark hair was tousled over his chest and it took all his control not to take her in her sleep. He wanted to bury himself deep inside her and see the look in her eyes when she called his name. But she'd only been sleeping for an hour, and she needed her rest. So he urged his libido to have patience.