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One hot holiday, p.14

One Hot Holiday, page 14


One Hot Holiday

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  She stared at him. “I thought you said you wanted to fuck me.”

  Only every minute of the day and night. “Absolutely, but I was trying to be a gentleman and not—”

  She kissed him. Grabbed his shoulders and pulled him toward her. Hell, yes. Hell. Yes. He locked his arms around her and drank her in. His mouth was rough and hungry on hers. Too demanding. But he couldn’t hold back. He really had been trying to play the gentleman and give her space, but if she wanted him, he wasn’t going to be a fool. He was going to hold on tight.

  And never let go.

  “I don’t want you on the couch,” she said against his mouth. “I want you in bed. I want you with me.”

  That was the number one spot he wanted to be in, too. A thousand times, yes.

  He backed her up and took her mouth again. He nipped her lower lip and fucking loved the way she moaned.

  Her shoulders hit the wall and her hips arched against him. He wanted more, so he lifted her up, holding her between his body and the wall. Her jeans were in the way. He wanted her against his cock. Wanted her silken skin against him.

  He rocked against her, and she rode his cock through her jeans and his uniform. She kissed a path along his jaw, her lips feathering over the stubble on him. Then she put her mouth on his throat. Licked right along his pulse.

  “Fuck.” He carried her to the bedroom. Stripped in record time and then pulled off her jeans and shoes and left her in her shirt and underwear.

  She smiled up at him. God, he would never get used to the sight of her smile. She caught the edges of her shirt and hauled it over her head. He hadn’t wanted to move the shirt because he hadn’t wanted to risk hurting her stitches.

  She crouched on the bed, clad in her underwear, her body making his mouth water, and for a moment, he could only stare at her.

  “I think that means it’s my move.” She slid to the edge of the bed. Put her hands on his hips. And then put her mouth on his cock.

  Pleasure surged through him. Her mouth was hot and tight, her tongue knew just how to lick, she sucked and teased and—

  He lost his control. It shattered as he pulled her away from his cock and tumbled her back on the bed. He knew he should be going slower. He knew he should be using more care. But he kissed her like a man possessed. His hands slid over her body, caressing and stroking. He wanted to touch every single inch of her. Wanted to have her moaning and screaming.

  His hands pushed her thighs apart. His fingers dipped between her legs. Drove deep. Over and over and she cried out his name.

  Not enough.

  He grabbed for a condom. Ripped open the packet, rolled it on, and shoved his cock toward the entrance to her body.

  “Now, Spence! Now!”

  He plunged inside of her. She arched off the bed. He fucking touched heaven. He pulled back, thrust again. The bed pounded into the wall as he took and took and took.

  She came once, a fast, hard release that squeezed his cock and made him even crazier. He pumped harder, faster, and grabbed her legs, looping them over his shoulders.

  He was in a frenzy, needing her so much.

  Spencer drover deep into her. Hard. God, she felt so fucking good. He kissed her. He was lost and obsessed. Consumed by his need for her.

  She came again, buckling beneath him. Her body quivered, and the contractions of her sex sent him crashing into oblivion. The release was freaking amazing. It went on and on, and his breath heaved out as he rode the orgasm.

  When it was done, he braced his body on his arms and stared down at her. His heart drummed madly in his chest. There were a million things he wanted to say to her, but he couldn’t speak.

  Her hand lifted and her fingers trailed across the stubble on his cheek. “Will you stay here with me tonight?”

  He would do anything for her. And the truth of that was rather staggering. He withdrew, took a moment to ditch the condom before he went back to her, then Spencer slid under the covers and pulled her against him. He’d killed the lights, but the darkness seemed warm and comforting around him. Truth be told, he’d always liked the dark.

  “Spencer, can I ask you something?” Her voice was low and hesitant. Husky.

  “Anything.” It was time for her to learn his secrets. He’d willingly share them with her.

  “You were shot, weren’t you?”

  He’d known that, sooner or later, she’d ask about the marks on him. Since they’d pretty much seen every inch of each other’s bodies, it would be hard for her to miss the scars he carried. “Three times.”

  She inhaled sharply and stiffened against him.

  “Baby, it doesn’t matter.” He pressed a kiss to her temple. “I’m fine.” There wasn’t any sense telling her about how he’d once lain, covered in his own blood, choking on sand as it battered his mouth and he struggled to crawl forward and escape the enemy. His nightmare. She didn’t need to—

  “It matters to me.” She turned in his arms. Her fingers went to the first scar. Lightly traced it. “I’m sorry that you were in pain.”

  He swallowed, wondering where the hell that weird lump in his throat had come from.

  She slid down and pressed a kiss to one of his scars.

  “Haley, you don’t have to—”

  She rose, sitting beside him and letting the covers fall. “I don’t want you to have another scar because you decided to jump between me and a bullet.”

  He tensed.

  “I don’t want you doing that. Please promise me that you won’t.”

  That was a promise he wasn’t going to make. If she was in danger, hell, yes, he’d do anything necessary to protect her.

  “And do not dare tell me that you’re the sheriff and it’s your job.”

  His lips curved. “It is kind of my job.” Did she realize that her fingers were still lightly caressing one of the old scars? Such a gentle touch.

  “Your job isn’t to get hurt for me.” She stopped touching him. Pulled back. Turned away as if she’d climb from the bed. “Maybe I should leave. I swear, I don’t want to put you or anyone else in this town at risk and I—Spence!”

  He’d grabbed her—being careful with her wrist—and tumbled her back into the bed. He caged her beneath his body. “No,” he said simply although there was nothing simple about the way he suddenly felt. The idea of her skipping town, of her being out there alone while some bastard was trying to shoot at her… “Hell, no.”

  She was stiff and wary beneath him.

  “You don’t have to face everything alone.” Not anymore. Not ever again. “Running isn’t the answer. Running makes you more of a target. You stay here, and you have protection. You have strength.”

  “And I can’t have you getting killed because of me—”

  He kissed her. A long, deep kiss. He would never, ever get enough of her mouth. “Baby, don’t you get it? I’m not going to be killed or hurt. I’ll be the one doing the hurting.” His head raised. “I was shot three times on a mission that went straight to hell. I was ambushed by four men who were supposed to be there to provide aid to me and my team. I made it out of that desert. My attackers didn’t.” He smiled down at her. “But I’ve got to say, I love it that you’re worried about me. That shit is sexy.”

  A startled laugh escaped her. He loved her laugh. It was warm and light, and it wrapped around him, and he just had to lower his head and kiss her mouth once more. Or a few times more.

  Then he had to nuzzle her neck.

  She gasped beneath his mouth and arched up toward him. Her hands closed around his shoulders and pulled him closer.

  But then…

  She pushed against him. “If anything happens to you, I am going to be severely pissed off.”

  “It’s because you like me,” he tried to tease her.

  “I do like you.” Her voice was serious. “And you won’t be hurt.”

  “Hell, no, baby, like I said, I’ll do the hurting…” He brought his mouth close to hers once more. “No one will touch you. You
don’t have a single thing to fear.” He kissed her.

  I’ll be here for you, and I will stop any threat that comes your way.


  He was in a freaking Podunk jail, and he was about to be railroaded for shit he hadn’t done.

  Francis glowered at the bars. The cot was a lumpy nightmare, so there was no way he’d get any sleep. He’d tossed and he’d turned, and he’d yelled for the deputies to help him.

  They’d brought him a late-night snack. They’d given him his phone call—and, hell, yeah, he’d tried to call Andrew Bradley. That guy was his most powerful client, and he wanted Drew to get his ass out of that jail.

  But Drew hadn’t answered. In fact, the call had gone to a disconnected number. What was up with that shit?

  So Francis stayed in his cell. He sat and he raged and he realized that he might very well be screwed. Mostly because…shit, he had broken into Haley Quick’s little rental place on the bay. He’d gone inside to check the scene. To make sure he’d found the right woman. And maybe he’d been looking to score some cash and jewelry, but that dream had died a swift death when he’d only found clothes and some toiletries at her place.

  When Drew had come to Francis, demanding that he track Haley, the guy had said, “She took something important from me. She doesn’t get to do that. I want to know exactly where she is.”

  Francis had thought that “something important” had to refer to a big haul. Maybe Haley had stolen jewelry or cash and Drew was pissed about her theft. So maybe Francis had thought he could steal whatever she’d taken and sneak out of town…

  Only nothing of real value had been in her place.

  Andrew had lied to him, obviously. Now Francis was worried that maybe the small-town sheriff was right. Perhaps the big boss was setting him up to take the fall. It infuriated Francis that he’d helped to make the set-up happen.

  I might have left evidence in the rental place. I tried to be careful, I wore gloves, but what if I left something behind?

  Fuck, fuck, fuck!

  The door to holding opened. Every time the door opened, the hinges groaned like an old man.

  Francis stiffened and surged to his feet. “I want another phone call!” Okay, technically, he’d already had two.

  The first had gone to Drew. A waste.

  Then he’d called his ex-wife. Marsha hadn’t answered him, either. And that was weird because the woman always answered the phone. She was pretty much fanatical about answering a ringing phone. He’d seen her actually get twitchy when he’d once told her to ignore a telemarketer.

  Footsteps shuffled closer.

  “Listen, I want out of this cell. Go get the sheriff. I’ll…I’ll tell him what I know, but it’s not a lot, man, I swear, I was honest earlier with him—”

  “Were you?”

  Francis blinked. He wasn’t looking at the young deputy who’d brought him a granola bar when Francis had been moaning about hunger. The man before him wore a black ski mask. Oh, shit. “How’d you get back here?” He edged away from the bars.

  A shrug.

  His heart was jerking hard in his chest.

  The fellow yanked off the ski mask. “Just how ‘honest’ were you, Francis?”

  Fucking hell. He swiped his hand over his brow. “Look, I didn’t know you were down here. That woman your boss had me after, she’s involved with the sheriff, and this whole scene is about to get bad.”

  A nod. “You’re right.” He headed toward the cell. He had keys in his hand. How had he gotten keys?

  He unlocked the cell. Motioned for Francis to come out.

  Francis didn’t move. “If I’m not here when they come back to check on me, every cop or deputy in the area will be hunting for me.”

  A nod. “Absolutely. So you’d better hurry.”

  Francis choked on a rough, nervous laugh. “I’m not gonna be a wanted man. I mean, sure, I’ve done some…slightly shady things but I’m not—” He broke off when he saw the gun. The gun that was pointed straight at him.

  “We have five minutes. Get your ass out of that cell and get moving.” A smile. “Or I will shoot you right here.”

  Francis got his ass out of the cell.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “We have a problem.”

  That wasn’t what a woman liked to hear first thing in the morning. Only…it wasn’t morning. It was still night. She could see the darkness beyond her window.

  Spencer was already dressed in his uniform, and he stood at the foot of her bed. She frowned because she hadn’t even heard him get out of bed, much less put on his clothes. And, yes, he looked sexy hot in his uniform with the stubble on his hard jaw and his glittering eyes all focused on her, but…

  His words sank in. “Problem?” Haley sat up, pulling the sheet with her. He was dressed. She was naked.

  His gaze dipped. Heated.

  She held the sheet a bit tighter to her breasts. “What kind of problem?”

  “Cody was attacked at the station.”


  “There was another deputy on duty with him, but the guy had stepped out for a minute. Cody was hit hard from behind, and he woke up to find that Francis’s cell was open.” A pause. “Francis was gone.”

  She could feel her skin icing. “Is your deputy going to be all right?”

  “He’s at the hospital now. Docs say he has a concussion.” His lips tightened. “Titus is with him—he’s the one who called me and told me what the hell was happening. Cody didn’t get a look at his attacker. Didn’t see Francis get out. Didn’t see a damn thing.”

  “Wh-what about the other deputy?”

  “Geno didn’t see anything, either. When he came back to the station, he found Cody on the floor.” Anger roughened his words. “I’ve got an APB out for Francis now. He has a lead on us, but we’re going to find him.”

  There was more. She could feel it. “What aren’t you telling me?”

  “Francis had help on his escape. We have security cameras at the station. The ‘help’ who broke in…when he entered, he was wearing a ski mask. So we didn’t get a clear image of him. We can’t ID the bastard.”

  “You…you had thought that Andrew was here.”


  “No.” She shook her head. “I mean, Drew wouldn’t take a risk like this. He wouldn’t walk into a sheriff’s station and assault a deputy. He’s not going to get his hands dirty like that.”

  “The guy has been getting away with shit for years. Maybe he thinks he’s a freaking god. Arrogance can bring down anyone.” He rolled back his shoulders. “We’ve got other security cameras in the area—especially out on the streets. They’re being reviewed so we can find out where the hell those two went. Until then…”

  She felt far too vulnerable as she stared at him.

  “Until then, I think you need a guard on you.”

  Her mouth was dry. “Your deputies can hardly give me twenty-four seven protection.”

  He glanced away.

  Uh, oh… “Spencer?” She slid from the bed. Wrapped the sheet around her and headed for him. “What have you done?”

  A wince. “Okay, in my defense…”

  “Nothing that begins that way is ever good.”

  “I just want you safe.”

  She waited.

  “So, I forgot to mention that Eric Wilde sent two of his agents down here to help keep an eye on things.”

  “You didn’t forget anything.”

  “Remember at the tree lighting when I told you I had folks undercover?”

  A cautious nod.

  “Andrew Bradley is a high-level crime lord who needs to be stopped.”

  And I dated him and now my life has gone to hell.

  “I wanted extra eyes in town. I needed skilled agents that I could trust. My deputies are good. Hell, Titus is far more than a deputy. He’s the man I want at my side in any firefight. We served together overseas, and every day I’m grateful that he’s working to keep this town safe.” A
pause. “But the others are young, a bit too green, and they aren’t necessarily up to the level I’d like when dealing with someone like your ex. It pays to have additional help, and the Wilde agents have been thoroughly trained and vetted. I wanted undercover eyes in the area, so I kept their presence secret.”


  “I know I should have told you, but I was trying to make sure they kept a low profile and—” His gaze sharpened on her. “You just said okay?”

  “Yes. Okay. Okay as in…I get it.” She did. “A deputy was assaulted. I was shot at. Now we’re talking a jail escape. We need extra manpower, and I’m glad they are here.” She huffed out a breath. “Tell me what I can do. I want to be able to help and not just hide.”

  His expression warmed. “I have to go down to the station. I need to be leading the manhunt. The Wilde agents are going to stay close and keep an eye on you. You will be safe.”

  That was awesome. Seriously. Awesome. But had he missed the part about… “I don’t want to just hide.”

  “It’s the middle of the night. You can’t do much right now. And, hell, maybe by dawn, we’ll have Francis in custody again.”

  Francis…and the man who’d helped him escape.

  Spencer leaned down and pressed a quick kiss to her lips. “I need you safe.”

  Yes, she definitely wanted to be safe. That was a wonderful way to live. But… “You stay safe, too.”

  He gave her his slow smile. “Always.”

  It was the second time he’d said that to her when she asked him to be safe. Hearing the word again caused a little pang in her heart. A few moments later, he was gone, and she was alone in the cottage.

  She’d never been more aware of the how heavy silence could be until that moment. Heavy and suffocating.

  She didn’t go back to sleep.


  There was a quick knock on the cottage door.

  Haley frowned and took a few quick steps toward the door. It was nearing nine o’clock, and she hadn’t heard back from Spencer yet. She was pretty much going stir crazy as she waited to see what would happen.

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