Moving_Violations (5 page)

“Of course you can, sugar,” he whispered, his tongue outlining her ear with a slow sweep.

He raised his head and found her mouth open, soft and yielding. He tasted that full, hot, lower lip she kept nibbling on and drew it into his mouth. He tilted his head and deepened the kiss, their breath blending as he moved his tongue against hers in long slow strokes.

He felt her shiver against him, and his cock throbbed in its own demand. Damn, where had his self-control gone? She made him want to thrust hard and deep and 23

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drown in the heat pouring from her. He had to force himself to let his hand move slow and sure from her waist to her breast. There, he cupped the mound of heaving flesh, moving his head to rub the hard little nipple against his cheek.

She cried out harshly, her hot cunt thrusting quick and hard on his thigh as he pushed it harder against her. And still he didn’t hurry. He wanted her to remember this night, just as he knew he would. He rubbed his lips over the hard little point, licked it tenderly, then moved back to her neck as one hand moved lower along her smooth, flat abdomen. His fingers trailed through the beads of moisture forming there. Her skin was almost as slick as the hot folds of the flesh between her thighs. And he wasn’t unaffected either. He could feel the sweat pouring from his body, drenching them both as he fought for breath.

He moved then, drawing his thigh back from the heat of her cunt as he spread her legs wide, moving between them slowly.

“Jackson, please.” She shivered, whimpering in her female need as he nudged the slick entrance of her body with the broad head of his cock.

Control. He fought for it. He didn’t want to slam inside her. He wanted it to last forever. He wanted to take her gentle and sweet, and show her how damned good it could be. He slid in marginally, barely an inch, feeling her muscles clamp onto that small invasion in desperation.

He fought for breath. Son of a bitch, it was good. So damned hot and silky, clenching, stroking his flesh with each harsh breath she fought for. He moved both hands to her hips, holding her steady, his eyes moving to the point where their two bodies met. The dim light of the moon’s glow spilling onto the bed gave him a clear view of her glistening, silky curls, and the burrowing of his hard length between them.

He swallowed tightly, on fire with the sensations sweeping through his body as he inched farther inside her, his eyes riveted by the sight of her female lips widening, drawing him in as the suckling motions of her vagina kept his cock pulsing with the need to climax.

He wasn’t going to rush this. Damned if it wasn’t the best he had ever known.

Watching her as he took her, seeing her body accept him, hearing her cries for more. He gave her more, spreading her inch by inch as her keening cry was lost in his male groan of triumph, as his darker, intimate hair meshed with her wet curls, soaking both.

He shook his head, grinding his hips into her as she screamed out for him to take her hard. Fast. But it wasn’t his cock screaming out the demand, “Now, Jackson. Now.”

It was her tormented voice, a plea that shattered his self control.

He fell forward, catching himself on his elbows and clasping her head in his hands.

“Open your eyes,” he growled. “Look at me, Rebecca. Look at me while I make you scream.”

His hips retreated. Her eyes widened in protest. He slammed forward, driving every hard desperate inch of his cock as deep as it would go inside the sucking depths of her vagina. Her mouth opened, a gasping cry issuing from it. Her pupils dilated in further pleasure, a harsh flush mounting her cheekbones as her hips pushed against him, demanding more.

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Moving Violations

“Faster. Please, Jackson. Faster.” Her eyes didn’t leave his; they glazed over, her eyelids lowering just enough to give her a mysterious, sexy look that made him crazy.

He felt his muscles bunch, braced himself with knees and elbows, and with a quick prayer that she would come quickly, he gave her what she wanted. What he needed. His hips powered into her. Thrust after long, hard thrust as they both groaned, arched, slamming their bodies into each other, fighting for the ultimate high as their blood thundered, rushed.

Rebecca screamed for him. He relished the sound, thrusting deeper inside her as he felt her clench, gush. Another sharp scream issued from her throat as she began to climax harshly. He was only a second away. He gritted his teeth, fought a shout, and lost his control as he felt the rippling power of his ejaculation tearing through his body.

“Becca!” He cried out her name, holding himself deep and tight within her as his seed pumped hard and fast inside her gripping, spasming flesh.

Damn, if he had to die, this was the way to go. Jackson barely caught himself before he collapsed on top of her. At the last second, he twisted his body, falling beside her, his eyes closing in exhaustion as he fought for breath, and for sanity. Yeah, that’s what he needed. Sanity. Sex like this should be outlawed, though he’d hate to have to arrest himself.

He grinned at that. His hand fell to Rebecca’s stomach, feeling the sharp rise and fall of it as she fought for her own breath. They were both gasping, fighting for control. He felt alternately proud as hell, and scared to his toenails. He wanted to beat on his chest, he wanted to slink away and hide from her. Sex shouldn’t be that damned good.

“Amazing, you’re absolutely amazing, but I think perhaps I’ve died.” Her voice, so proper and well cultured, made him smile. Damn if he didn’t have a bona fide Yankee.

He’d never live it down.

Jericho, Tennessee didn’t boast many Yankees. He was pretty damned sure they wouldn’t brag about any, if they were there. And those who might be there hid it real well, to the best of his knowledge. But here he had a soft, vibrant, incredibly lusty she-cat on his hands, and he loved it.

“Sure ‘bout that?” he whispered against her ear, feeling the involuntary shiver that raced over skin. “Just let me catch my breath, sugar, and we’ll try for another round. See if I can bring you back to life.”

Her breath caught. He heard it, felt the stillness of her body.

“Uh, slow down now, cowboy. Give a girl a moment to recharge,” she said with a soft sexy laugh.

There was a faint protest there. Real faint, Jackson thought, wishing he had the strength for the chuckle he wanted to release. Damn, it was all he could do to breathe.

“Just rest there then.” He took a deep breath, making himself rise and reach to the foot of the bed where the comforter had been tossed.

Damned A/C was hell on damp skin, he thought, feeling her shiver again. He covered them both, then settled back beside her with an exhausted sigh.

“I have to get up early.” She cuddled into his arms, her head against his chest as a last sigh whispered over his chest. “Don’t let me ignore the alarm.”

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He glanced over at the red digital display on her side of the bed. Alarm was set, at least. He would have hated to have to go to the trouble.

“Sure thing, sugar.” He yawned, pulling her tighter in his arms, his chin resting against the top of her head as he closed his eyes.

Damn, a sudden thought struck him. She wasn’t going to run him off before dawn?

He frowned, wondering how long it had been since he had spent the night with a woman, instead of sneaking out of her house before daylight. Neighbors and gossip—

they turned normally intelligent women into gibbering masses of nervousness. They wanted to play, but damned if they wanted anyone to know it.

He had always been amused by the same shy, sweet, parlor room ladies gasping and moaning in the dead of night, then pushing their lovers swiftly from the back door before dawn. Not this one, though. He ran his hand along her back, finally allowing it to rest along the top of her buttock as he sighed in satisfaction. Maybe he’d try for more the next morning.

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Moving Violations

Chapter Six

Gary Allen’s sultry voice had Rebecca smiling. She stirred from a warm dreamy sleep, opened one eye and groaned when she realized the singer’s voice came from the radio that serenaded her awake and not the rugged sexy man himself…whose face kept morphing into Jackson’s. Jackson… She opened the other eye and levered herself up on her elbows, wincing at the ache in her muscles. Her lips tilted a bit thinking of the previous night’s activities.

With a heavy sigh she swung her legs over the edge of the bed to stand and walk through the house. Yep, he was gone. Now how the hell did he get up and out without waking her? She always slept so lightly. She frowned then shrugged and started a pot of coffee. Humming with the music from her radio, she walked back through her bedroom to the adjoining bathroom. She leaned over and turned the shower on hot, full blast, wrinkling her nose at the uncomfortable stickiness between her thighs.

Reality hit her. The Pixie Pest had hot wild sex with Jackson Montgomery. She’d gotten swept up in the fury of lust Jackson brought out in her, so fast. And oh, it was a fury. And here all this time she thought she knew what it was to have an orgasm. Since when did reality ever surpass fantasy? Since last night! Jackson definitely lived up to her wildest dreams. The memory of it washed over her with enough force to make her vaginal muscles clench in remembered pleasure.

She lathered her breasts thinking of him, those big sexy hands, those long clever fingers. Her nipples contracted, sending pulses of warm sensation through her. Her eyes drifted close on a shaky sigh. She let her soapy hands roam over her stomach, down her hips to her mound. She luxuriated in the silky lather she spread over her body in slow, languid strokes.

She slid her fingers over the tender flesh of her sore inner thighs. Waves of pleasure flooded through her. She moved under the hot spray and, tilting her head back, washed her hair. The water pounded over her, down her back, while she rubbed her hands over her breasts, the hard nipples rasping against her palms. She turned to feel the water beating down on her breasts, her distended nipples. Her other hand moved downward, dipping into the slick wet lips to the sensitive knot of nerve endings nestled there. She sucked in the thick steamy air though her teeth at the slow spiraling pleasure.

Her body reacted fiercely to the memory of Jackson’s hands, his mouth moving over her body, as her hand moved over her clit. Her fingers delved into her pulsing channel and drew out the slick dew of her arousal. Her legs grew shaky and she stepped back, leaning against the cool tile. She imagined that Jackson spread her open, his three fingers that glided over the swollen, throbbing flesh.

She tormented herself with her hands and her memories, the sensation building and pulsing through her. She continued to rub, long firm strokes. Her lips parted, she felt the orgasm rising in waves till the climax peaked and tore through her. She tilted her head back, allowing the water to flow over her chest and down her body. Her hips rocked 27

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back and forth, her moans echoing off the tiled walls. She pressed her hand tighter against her slick flesh till the waves subsided, leaving her feeling relaxed, her muscles loose and liquid.

After she washed her hair and rinsed the last of the suds away, she reluctantly stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around herself. She needed to focus on the day and her new job. She wiped the steam from the mirror and started to brush her teeth when she noticed the love bite right above her left breast. A hickey, he’d given her a hickey. Good lord, she felt like a teenager again. She grinned, thankful her shirt would cover the mark. The smile stayed in place while she brushed her teeth and applied a bare minimum of makeup.

* * * * *

Rebecca pulled her Tracker into the small paved parking lot next to a monster sized pick-up truck…if you could call a truck that size a pick-up. She killed the engine and sat back to finish her coffee. They didn’t expect her for twenty more minutes. She would feel much more comfortable if she at least knew the name of her new boss. For some reason it hadn’t been in any of the transfer paperwork, the mayor hadn’t mentioned it and she had forgotten to ask. She narrowed her eyes and gave herself a mental head slap. She hated not being completely informed, it put her at a disadvantage. However small, it was still a disadvantage.

Sheriff what’s-his-name had been busy on the phone with the mayor when she called earlier and the officer she’d talked with hadn’t seemed to expect her at all. On top of that, he didn’t know if he had a uniform that would fit her or not. For today, her jeans and white cotton oxford shirt would have to do. She recalled the derisive humor in the officer’s voice and got the feeling she was walking into a boy’s club.

The police station building looked simple and a bit undersized, but someone took good care of the landscape. The tiny lawn was lush and green. The few meager hedges were neatly trimmed. She took a sip of her coffee and arched a brow. Maybe someone in there would remember her. If not, they’d just have to adjust, she thought.

She got out, grabbed her purse, laid a hand on the firearm at her hip and slammed the car door. She felt good, cocky, self confident as she walked purposefully up the few steps. She took a deep breath as she swung open the door and looking up, froze in shock. She slowly took off her sunglasses and looked into those silver gray eyes that she watched go dark and stormy with a savage lust the night before. Her body shuddered involuntarily.

Jackson was slightly bent, checking some reports the officer sitting at the desk had evidently been typing. That wild sexy hair still fell across his forehead. His sensual mouth frowned at her. His shirt sleeves were rolled up, his snug jeans slung low on his hips. Gun and badge hung from his belt. Well, she probably didn’t have to worry about somebody remembering her now.

Jackson cleared his throat. “Becca. May I help you?” His voice was deep and wary.

Careful to keep her face blank, Rebecca stepped forward and offered her hand.