Surrender To Sultry (12 page)

With his mouth still at her ear, he whispered, “Can the doctor make you moan like
that?”

Her lips parted, but she couldn’t breathe over the dizzying sensations. She brought
both knees to her chest in a silent plea for more, and he rewarded her by adding a
second finger and pumping in and out of her throbbing center in a slow, sensual dance.
He sank deeper with each stroke, filling and stretching her while she rocked her hips
for more.

“Can he do this to you?” he asked. “Can he make you so wet you drip into his hand?
Listen to this.” He angled his pistoning fingers to amplify the sound of her arousal.
“I can hear how much you want me. Did you ever want him like this?”

She thrashed her head from side to side. “No. Never.” She knew she was at his mercy,
and she didn’t care. Flat on her back, wide open on her daddy’s kitchen table, begging
for Colt’s sinful touch, and she didn’t care. “You’re the only one.”

“Remember that.” He kissed a trail to her shoulder and bit down, still moving inside
her. “Tell me you’ll remember.”

She answered with a moan, and he withdrew his fingers.

“I’ll remember!” she shouted, eyes flying wide, desperate for him to keep going.

He chuckled darkly and moved to the end of the table, taking a seat on the chair between
her legs. Then he grabbed her by the thighs and pulled her to the wooden ledge, propping
her heels on his shoulders. “I know you will. I’m about to make sure of it.”

With one hand, he hooked the cotton fabric aside, then bent to his work and used his
tongue on her, circling and teasing in whisper-light licks that only served to heighten
the dull ache spreading low in her belly. She grasped the table’s edge with both hands
and let her knees fall out to the sides while he resumed pumping inside her with his
fingers. Her moans grew urgent and half-hysterical. She couldn’t survive much more
of his scintillating torture.

“Colt,” she murmured, “please.”

He groaned, vibrating against her before drawing her into his mouth with a strong
pull of suction that had her sobbing with pleasure. He worked her relentlessly, took
her higher than she’d ever thought her body could go, then catapulted her into the
sun. The erotic pressure continued to build inside her until she thought she’d die
from it, and then he twisted his fingers again and found that magical spot, and her
whole world blew apart.

Her inner walls tightened like a vise around his fingers and released, tightened and
released, in a quaking orgasm so powerful she almost couldn’t bear the ecstasy. Her
cries filled the kitchen and reverberated off the walls, sounding distorted to her
own ears. She’d never felt anything this strong. On and on it went, until her leg
muscles went slack and her heels slipped from Colt’s shoulders. He stayed with her
until the end, when the shudders finally stopped and her cries quieted.

She lay on the table, heart pounding so hard she felt it in her toes. While she fought
for breath, Colt withdrew his fingers and left her with one last, gentle kiss between
her thighs. As soon as she could draw oxygen and form a coherent sentence, she told
him, “I’ll remember.”

He laughed at that and pulled her into his lap, where she straddled his thighs and
linked her arms behind his neck. There, he fed her sweet, lazy kisses and danced his
fingertips along her spine. A few minutes later, she became aware of the erection
still straining the front of his Levi’s. Every bit the man, he’d seen to her needs
and ignored his own. But she intended to rectify that—to give
him
something to remember—starting right now.

***

Colt was in heaven.

He’d just made Leah come like a freight train—the hardest orgasm of her life, he was
sure of it—and now he held her pliant body in his arms, stroking her silken skin and
savoring the steady thump of her heart beating against his chest. How many nights
had he wished for this? God only knew. He could hardly believe it was really happening,
but her salty flavor lingered as evidence on his tongue. The air was still thick with
the tantalizing scent of her arousal. He pulled back to glance at her, so beautiful
with her mussed hair and her flushed cheeks, drunk on the satisfaction he’d given
her. In that moment, she was all his.

It didn’t get any better than this.

She reached down to stroke him through his jeans, then worked the button on his fly
and whispered in his ear, “Your turn.”

Okay, maybe it
could
get a little better than this.

After she’d lowered his zipper, she stood from his lap long enough to help him push
his pants and boxer-briefs to his knees. He was hard enough to split stone, but when
she curled her soft palm around him and stroked his length, he grew incredibly harder.
He bit his lip to contain a curse and tipped his head to rest on the seatback, then
closed his eyes, focusing on the gentle friction of their joined skin, occasionally
thrusting up to meet her hand. Suddenly, her weight lifted from his lap, and he opened
his eyes to find her kneeling at his boots, a sight he didn’t like one bit.

“What’re you doing?” he asked in a voice that made his feelings clear. He didn’t want
Leah on her knees. It was degrading. Over the years, he’d let dozens of women service
him that way. They’d dropped to the floor and sucked him off in closets and bathrooms,
dressing rooms and backyards. It was a way to get his jollies without giving anything
in return. He couldn’t do that to Leah. She was his angel—she was above it.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Grasping his base, she licked the underside of his rounded tip
like a kid with a snow cone.

His eyes rolled back and his cock twitched, despite his best efforts to ignore the
repeated laps of her tongue. “Get back up here.”

“Why?” Her baby blues widened in a way that made his heart heavy. “Am I doing it wrong?”

“Hell, no.”

“Then why do you want me to stop?”

“Honey, you’re doin’ everything right. I just don’t like you down there on your knees.”

She licked him, long and slow up the center, then grinned. “Did you have another position
in mind?”

First the panties and now this. She was making it awfully hard for him to do the right
thing. Hard in more ways than one.

Before he could protest any further, she began stroking him while massaging the skin
behind his balls, and pure pleasure wiped his mind clean, making it impossible to
think about anything but the cocktail of sensations between his legs. He closed his
eyes again and leaned back in his chair, helpless to stop her. He’d done all he could.
The head on his shoulders wasn’t the one making the decisions anymore.

She took him into her mouth one slow inch at a time, pulled back, and then slid her
lips further down his slippery shaft. When she couldn’t take him any deeper, she used
one hand to stroke his base, twisting her grip while clamping her lips tighter around
him and quickening the pace. A whimper escaped his chest while the pit of his belly
coiled, the tension mounting until he knew he’d go in seconds. And to think she’d
worried she was doing it wrong. She worked him like a pro.

He couldn’t help pumping his hips to meet her, whispering her name and pleading
Don’t stop, baby. Please don’t stop.
When his body tensed for release, she gripped him impossibly harder, took him impossibly
deeper, and grabbed his backside with her other hand, digging her nails into his flesh.
He didn’t want to come in her mouth, but he couldn’t control the hot surge about to
erupt. She was too good. With a final thrust, he muffled a cry and let go, legs kicking
out with rapture as she swallowed everything he gave her in wave after wave of his
climax. It seemed to go on forever, but she didn’t relent. She held on until he quit
pulsing, then released him with a gentle suction that made him groan.

“God damn,” he panted in awe, glancing down at her. “I don’t wanna know how you learned
to do that.”

The way she smiled up at him—all coy and naked, her lips swollen from mouthing his
erection—was anything but angelic. She licked the corner of her mouth and told him,
“I could say the same thing about you.”

“Come here.” He held out his arms to her, not bothering to pull up his drawers. Soon
she’d have to pick up her daddy, and he wanted to spend every spare minute holding
her. She settled in his lap and laced her fingers behind his back, resting her cheek
on his shoulder while he stroked her hair. Seriously, it didn’t get any better than
this.

After a few minutes of blissful silence, she trailed one index finger down the side
of his neck and whispered, “That was amazing, but you know we can’t do it again, right?”

Colt’s heart pinched and he fought to keep the hurt from showing on his face. He’d
expected her to pull away, but not so soon. Thank goodness he hadn’t caved in and
made love to her. She’d be halfway to Minnesota by now.

He faked his most unaffected shrug and said, “Whatever you want, honey,” then added
with a wink, “but you’ll never be able to eat at this table without getting hot and
bothered.”

She dropped a kiss on the tip of his nose. “Lucky for me, Daddy likes to eat in front
of the TV.”

The moment ended far too quickly. She stood and retrieved her discarded clothes, then
went to her room to fetch a clean shirt while he fastened his pants. When they cleaned
up the kitchen, she tossed both éclairs into the garbage without taking a single bite,
which bothered him more than it should have. She loved those things—always had—so
why did she avoid them now? He wanted to see her indulge, to gobble one like a child.
That’s why he’d bought them. Maybe next time she’d let go of whatever was holding
her back.

And there
would
be a next time. He’d have to be patient and wait for Leah to come to him, but she’d
come. She was his—she just didn’t know it yet.

Dry gravel crunched beneath Colt’s Laredos as he left his cruiser and picked his way
across the trail leading to the springs. His movements disturbed the placid night
air and sent a handful of critters scurrying into the tangled underbrush that sprouted
along the water’s edge. Colt smiled and unbuckled his utility belt. The presence of
critters was a good sign—it meant he had the place to himself again.

He hadn’t crossed paths with anything on two legs since his first visit a few nights
ago, when he’d surprised a group of teenagers. Once they’d caught a glimpse of the
gold star on his Stetson, they’d grabbed their six-packs and hightailed it the hell
out of there. Word must’ve gotten out that the sheriff had taken to soaking in the
springs after work, because they’d stayed away ever since. All the better. Now he
could skinny dip without an audience.

The sun hung low in the sky, throwing shadows over the jagged ground and casting the
mineral pool in a mystic greenish-blue glow. Surrounded on three sides by a red stony
ridge, the space boasted more privacy than half the backyard pools in town. He enjoyed
it out here, especially since the fall air had turned crisp, and he wondered why he
hadn’t come out more often in previous years. Probably because it was too peaceful—no
blaring juke boxes or giggling women to drown out his thoughts.

He continued past the shallows to his favorite spot in the back, where time had eroded
a natural bench of limestone beneath the water’s surface. Once there, he stripped
down and slung his clothes over a small boulder, then set his utility belt within
reach of the pool, just in case he needed to draw his weapon. The odds were slim,
but why risk getting caught with his pants down?

He sat on the gravel ledge and dangled his legs in the water to acclimate his skin
to the hot change in temperature, then lowered to his chest and settled on the stone
seat below. The air stank of sulfur, but it was worth it when the muscles along his
lower back unclenched and his body melted into the earth behind him. He groaned in
relief. This was a perfect way to spend the evening.

Almost.

There was room for one more body on the stone seat beside him, and he’d felt her absence
each night like a rib stolen from his chest. He hadn’t expected Leah to join him right
away, but after their sizzling oral escapades last week, waiting for her to come to
him was proving more than he could bear. He wanted her again—all of her this time.
But she’d made it damn near impossible to get close to her again.

When he’d arrived at her house the last couple of mornings to tend the lawn, he’d
found her gone, tagging along with her daddy to his hospital appointments. It was
her not-so-subtle way of avoiding him. Aside from the Sunday service, he’d run out
of excuses to be near her, and as much as Colt wanted to trust his instincts and play
it cool, it wasn’t easy. Still, he had to be careful. He never thought he’d get a
second chance with Leah, and he wasn’t about to blow it by pushing too hard. She’d
seek him out—he had to trust that.

In the meantime, he tried to focus on the stretches Leah had shown him. He brought
one knee toward his chest until he felt a pull at the base of his spine, then held
it to the count of sixty and repeated on the other side. In just four days, he’d limbered
up enough to notice a small difference. He couldn’t quite touch his knees to his upper
torso yet, but it wouldn’t be much longer. He’d even scheduled a couple massages at
the chiropractor’s office. He didn’t exactly enjoy getting rubbed down by a big, hairy
dude, but he couldn’t deny it had helped. And even though he didn’t buy into that
back-cracking shit, he decided to give it a try as soon as his muscles loosened up.
What the hell, it was worth a shot, right?

He’d just finished his second set of stretches when his cell phone rang from inside
his utility belt. After shaking the water from one hand, he unsnapped the pouch and
glanced at the screen:
Shooters
Tavern
. He swiped a finger across the glass and answered.

“Hey, Colt,” June Gallagher shouted above a symphony of background noises he’d known
well in a past life—shouts and laughter to the backdrop of a steel guitar. “Can you
hear me?”

“Barely,” he told her. “What’s up?”

“I need you to come down here and pick up Rachel Landry. She’s had too much to drink,
and she’s looking to start trouble. It’s dollar draft night, and things are already
cra—”

“Not my jurisdiction,” he interrupted. Shooters was outside Sultry County lines; otherwise
they wouldn’t be allowed to sell booze. June knew that. “You’re gonna have to call
the locals.”

“But if I do that, they’ll arrest her.”

“Isn’t that the point?”

“No!” June yelled like he’d done something wrong. Probably hormones. A guy couldn’t
say anything right around a pregnant lady.

Colt reminded her, “You just told me Rachel’s three sheets to the wind and spoilin’
for a fight.”

June huffed a sigh into the phone. “Think about it. She’s Leah’s best friend…”

Colt understood the implication. If he swooped in and rescued the sour shrew, it might
earn him a few brownie points. He doubted it would do any good. Besides, the thought
of Rachel Landry cooling her heels in the Hallover County tank made him smile.

At his hesitation, June added, “C’mon. Rachel’s good people—you know that.”

“She wouldn’t piss on me if I were on fire.”

“I know you two don’t see eye to eye, but I’ve never seen her act like this. I think
something’s wrong. I tried calling Leah, but I couldn’t reach her.”

Colt felt his resolve slipping. He couldn’t stand Rachel, but if she was in real trouble,
he didn’t want her doing something stupid and making it worse.

“Can’t someone drive her home?” he asked.

“Trey already offered, but she won’t go, and we’re not allowed to restrain her.”

“Fine.” It sounded like Rachel was in a tizzy. “I’ll be on my way in a few.”

“Thanks, Colt.”

He grumbled a reluctant “No problem” and disconnected.

So much for his near-perfect evening. For most good ol’ boys, hitting the local bar
after work was the most natural thing in the world, but Colt hated Shooters. He’d
managed to avoid the watering hole since his accident two years ago. There was nothing
wrong with the place—June and Luke had done a fair job renovating it—but he’d spent
too many drunken nights there, made one too many mistakes within those walls. It was
at the pool tables in the back of the bar where he’d picked up Barbara Lee, the lunatic
who’d knocked some sense into him—from behind the wheel of her Ford Taurus.

Damn it, Rachel had better appreciate this. But knowing her, she wouldn’t.

He hauled himself out of the springs and used his hands as a makeshift squeegee to
dry off. Which didn’t work. His uniform clung to his damp skin and chafed the insides
of his thighs, pissing him off even more as he stalked back to the cruiser. By the
time he arrived at Shooters and parked out by the Dumpster, he was madder than a box
of weasels.

He pounded three times on the back door, figuring June was in the office instead of
tending bar. Luke Gallagher was a crotchety son of a bitch, but a good guy, and he
wouldn’t want his pregnant wife on her feet all night long.

As it turned out, Colt was right. June answered, wearing a haggard expression and
a knee-length maternity dress stretched tighter than a gnat’s belly over a fifty-gallon
drum. Each time Colt saw her, he didn’t think June could get any bigger, but somehow
she kept expanding. Colt didn’t give a damn what anyone said—there were two babies
in there. Maybe three.

“Thanks for coming,” June said, stepping aside to let him in. “She’s back here with
me.” Averting her eyes, she added, “Kind of.”

“Kind of?” That sounded ominous. He noticed a violent thunk coming from somewhere
nearby, like boots kicking the wall, and he wondered if Rachel was throwing a tantrum
in the office.

June ducked her head and glanced down the dark, narrow hallway leading to the bar.
“Luke and Trey locked her in the closet with the plastic cups and the cocktail napkins.
We figured she couldn’t hurt herself in there.”

Colt shook his head and started toward the closet. “I’m gonna pretend I didn’t hear
that.” The thumping grew louder as he approached the door. Rachel was going apeshit
in there. He pointed at the brass latch. “Go ahead and release the beast.”

June slid aside the bolt while Colt held the knob firmly in both hands. “Okay,” he
said, “now get back in the office. She might come out swinging.” Once June had waddled
safely into the next room, Colt opened the door and braced himself for impact. Good
thing, too, because one hundred and thirty pounds of nearly dead weight fell into
his arms. He widened his stance and tried to lift with his legs, not his back, but
a shock of pain licked his spine.

Rachel gripped his shoulders and stared at his uniformed chest, then slurred, “Oh,
good. The law’s here. Occifer, I want ’em all arrested.” She stank like cigarettes
and sour whiskey. “They nevvver lemme finish my drink, an’ I paid forrrr it.”

There was no way she could walk to the cruiser on her own. Colt wrapped one arm around
her rib cage and bent low to scoop beneath her knees. He hoisted her up and warned,
“You’ll pay for it big-time if you puke on me.”

It took a few seconds for the lush to realize who was holding her. She wrinkled her
forehead and peered at him with wide, unfocused eyes. “Heyyyy,” she said accusingly,
“it’s you.” She tried poking his chest with an index finger, but missed the mark and
knocked his windpipe instead, making him cough. “I hate your face, Colton Bea.”

He turned that face aside to cough again. “June,” he called, “get the door.”

“Guys like you ’n Tommy ’n Marcus,” Rachel went on, “you think you’re the shit.”

June let him out into the parking lot. “Thanks again, Colt.”

“…that just because you’re good-lookin’ or rich, you can do whatevvvver you want…”

“Next time, call the Hallover boys,” Colt told June. “A night in the tank might do
her some good.”

“…you’re lying liars, all three of you…”

Rachel’s head flopped against his chest as he strode toward the car, but that didn’t
stop her from bitching about some guy named Marcus, who she claimed was a “lizard-licking
donkey sucker.” Colt didn’t know the guy, but he felt kind of sorry for Marcus. Whoever
he was, he had no idea of the hellfire he’d unleashed.

Colt set Rachel on her feet, but kept one arm around her waist while he pressed his
key fob and opened the back door. No way he’d put her in front. She was going to spew
for sure.

“Wait,” she said, shoving aside a lock of her brown hair and scowling at the cruiser.
“Am I underrrr arrest?”

“Unh-uh. But don’t tempt me.” He pushed on Rachel’s head to keep her from clocking
it on the roof, then helped her settle on the plastic bench seat. “You’re going home.”

She let out a small gasp and begged, “No! I don’t wanna go home!”

For some reason, the drunks never did. “It’s either that or the county jail.”

“Jail, then.”

Colt massaged his temples. He had no intention of hauling in Rachel. For one, he was
outside Sultry County lines, and even if she’d given him cause to arrest her, all
that paperwork would tie him up for the rest of the night. “Forget it. I’m taking
you to your mama.”

“Please,” Rachel whispered. Her voice had turned thick, and Colt glanced down to find
her eyes welling with tears. “I can’t go back there and face her. Not yet.”

“Aw, now, don’t do that.” He shook a finger at her wobbly chin. Colt couldn’t stand
to see a woman cry. It was the easiest way to get out of a ticket with him—fifty bucks
wasn’t worth having to listen to all that sniveling. “No crying.”

Her face contorted and her whole body shook. She clamped her lips shut and made a
few choking noises, then let it all out, bawling in loud, open-mouthed sobs, complete
with dribble trickling down her chin. Black goop from her lashes began leaking down
her cheeks, and she didn’t even bother to wipe away the muck. Damn it. He’d never
seen Rachel cry, not once in all the years he’d known her.

Colt tore off his Stetson. What was he supposed to do with her now? There really was
something wrong. Plus, she needed to sober up, but the diner and the coffee joint
were both closed.

“P-p-p-pleeeeeease?”

“Fine,” he grumbled. “I won’t take you home yet.”

“Tha-tha-th-tha…” Before she could thank him, he shut the door and turned his face
to the sky to pull in a deep breath.

What a shitty night this turned out to be.

***

Leah gazed at the full moon and filled her lungs with sweet autumn air. What a beautiful
night!

She clicked on her flashlight, slung her towel over one shoulder, and started down
the narrow path to the springs, reminding herself she wasn’t doing anything wrong.
Colt enjoyed her company and she enjoyed his, simple as that. There was no harm in
spending a little time together while she was in town. That didn’t mean they had to
take things farther, and it didn’t make them a couple.

But when Leah arrived at the springs and saw that Colt wasn’t there, her heart sank.
She swept her flashlight beam over the water three more times as if to summon him
through sheer determination. When he didn’t magically appear, she stood there a while
longer, rooted to the ground by disappointment.

Well, shoot. Where was he?

***

Colt pulled a mug from his kitchen cabinet and filled it with fresh black coffee while
Rachel rinsed her mouth in the sink. To her credit, she hadn’t gotten sick in the
cruiser. She’d waited until she reached his front porch, then tossed her cookies on
his rattan
Welcome
mat. At least she seemed to feel a little better. She wasn’t crying or slurring anymore.

“Here, drink this.” He set the steaming mug on the table and pulled out a chair for
her. “I’m gonna go hose off that mess.”