Confess (The Blue Line Series Book 1) Read online

  “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.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  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.

  “I’m still here, aren’t I? Would I be if you scared me?” She molded into his chest, faking enough bravado to fool herself into believing the road this relationship was on didn’t scare the hell out of her.

  In truth, everything from the way he challenged her in bed to the fact that he could uncover her secret with one well-directed question scared the hell out her.

  Mitch cupped her chin and tilted her face up in a sharp angle to look in her eyes. “Angel, there are so many things I want to do with you, but have you scared of me…” His chest rose and fell. “I’d rather die.”

  If any other man uttered those words, she’d think him a smooth talker with an agenda for sex, but the intensity in his stare and the deep thump of his voice made her insides ache. She needed him. She needed to be touched by him. Too feel him throbbing deep inside her.

  Mitch wrapped his free arm around her back and pressed her body to his.

  She reached for his face and kissed the line of his jaw. His stubble prickled against her lips. His smell, leather and soap and spicy cologne, enveloped her, making the sudden itch to lick his neck from the base up his throat to his ear unbearable. There was something much deeper to this man than his need for dominance. She only had to find out what that was.

  She tucked her head into his shoulder and started her assault where his neck concaved at the base, running her tongue along every inch of his chin, feeling the spasms of a moan build in his throat. She stopped at the base of his ear and sucked the lobe into her mouth, tasting him, finding him too addictive to stop.

  He wrapped his fingers tight around her wrists and pulled her arms into his chest.

  She searched out his eyes again and found them stripped of every emotion but pure, crazed lust. “Does that feel like fear to you?” she quipped.

  He answered by dropping his chin to hers and layering kisses along her lips before reaching his arms around her body and pressing her into him again. He pressed harder into her mouth, begging her to open to him.

  Lacy dropped her head back. The warmth of his lips burned a trail from her left ear to the base of her throat.

  Her nerve endings sparked everywhere he touched, so much so she wondered if she’d still be able to stand when he let go, or if she’d fall to the ground in a useless mound of burned out lust, like a star burning so brightly in the midnight sky it extinguished from effort.

  “I want you,” he pleaded against her neck. “I want to be inside you.”

  The raw emotion in his voice sent a shiver of excitement coursing through her. Lacy arched forward and met his lips. Thousands of hot little needles pricked a line from his greedy mouth down through her breasts and her belly to the heat between her legs. She’d wanted this. She wanted to be with him like she’d never been drawn to any man before.

  Mitch tucked both of her wrists into one oversized palm and pulled her up the front steps, taking them two at a time.

  Her toe caught on the rounded edge of the last step, but Mitch had her moving so fast her body didn’t flinch. She followed him through the front door, passed the living area in a blur, and to the bedroom where he’d made her come in his boxers the night before.

  “Without the boxers tonight?” She meant it as a challenge, but it came out a bare whisper. Her voice gone from anticipation.

  “Now you’re getting the idea, Angel.” He flipped on the bedside lamp, illuminating a stack of case files on his nightstand. Mitch slid them off into one hand and shoved them over to a dresser by the door.

  She’d almost forgotten he was a damn detective of all things until the yellow rectangles reminded her.

  How many of those damn folders had she come in second to with her father? How many times had he not pushed them out of the way to make room for her?

  Too many to count, so she didn’t.

  She crammed the thought deep down and focused on the man who could ruin her. The man who’d just shoved aside his first priority to be with her.

  Lacy pushed a low growl from her throat. Sex. No strings. No guilt. The case didn’t matter. Her past didn’t matter. It was just Lacy and Mitch, two lucky lovers who’d found each other in a bar.

&n
bsp; Nothing more than sex.

  She reached for his belt, unbuckled the clasp and whished the leather from the loops with a single pull. The button and zipper came next. She sank her hand under the waistband of his dress pants, finding purchase around his warm, hard cock.

  Mitch leaned against the bedroom wall, letting her take control this time.

  She moved her fingers to the outsides of his thighs, working the fabric down his legs and to the ground. Down on her knees, she kneaded him between her hands and angled her chin up to him. “I’m going to make you beg this time, Detective.” She encased his hard erection between her smiling lips.

  She licked at him first, tasting his salty, warm skin, feeling him harden between her palms before sinking his erection down deeper in her mouth. She gagged when he hit the back of her throat, and he groaned, throwing his head back and dropping his hands to tangle in her hair. The pads of his fingers threaded through until they landed on the skin at the tip of her neck. The rough feel of his callused fingers on her bare flesh made waves of shivers shake her body.

  “That’s it, Angel. Suck me.”

  A few hard pulls from her mouth sent his pelvis rocking in rhythm with her. He cupped his palm around the back of her head, urging her forward.

  Lacy rolled her lips over her teeth and lost herself in the action of pleasing him. The erotic feel of his eyes as he watched her mouth fuck him made her wet. She needed him there, within her sex.

  She glanced up and pulled back enough to speak. “Are you ready to beg for me?” Her lips curled around him again and grinned.

  “I’ll beg for you any time you need. But you look like you’re ready to get fucked.”

  She shook her head, not ready to stop but desperate to find her own pleasure. One hand wrapped around him, taking him in deeper. The other fell between the crotch of her shorts and messaged her aching clit.

  Mitch’s face fell forward. “Go ahead,” he whispered. “I want to watch you play with yourself.”

  This was supposed to be about pleasing him, but the desire in his voice made her fingers dance and her clit tight. With his cock firm in her mouth, Lacy unbuttoned her shorts with one hand and slid them down her thighs and under her knees. Her panties were already soaked, so she cupped herself, letting her fingers slowly work the silk fabric against her heated skin before she slid them over her swollen mound. Mimicking the way he had the night before, she pressed circles around her clitoris.

  She closed her eyes and imagined him there, touching her with his rough hands. The sensation brought her to the edge.

  She shouldn’t feel this way about a man who could just as easily be called back to Nashville and gone for good by morning, but she couldn’t stop herself from the need to please him.

  He dropped one hand to her shoulder, riding the motion of her arm as she worked her fingers under the fabric. Her slick skin glided along the line of her sex. With more pressure, she circled, feeling herself tighten. She moaned against his erection, taking him deeper into her mouth and sucking hard.

  He dropped his hands from her hair to under her shoulders hoisting her to her feet. “That’s enough.” His rough voice halted her.

  Her eyes flashed open. The charismatic Mitch wasn’t there anymore, replaced by a man driven with need and desire. Desire to have her beg for him. “I told you, the next time you came, it would be with me inside you.” He ripped the delicate silk of her panties down her legs and pulled the tank top over her head.

  He reached around to her back and pulled her to him. His mouth fell to hers, kissing her hard while he unfastened her bra and removed his clothing and shoes.

  When Lacy reached for her boots, he halted her hands. “Those stay on, Angel. I’ve been daydreaming of fucking you with those boots wrapped around my waist all damn night.” He ran a hand over her ass, cupping the soft flesh between his fingers and rubbing it. “Beg for me to fuck you.” He pressed the words into her mouth. “I can’t unless you say yes.”

  Under all his layers of force and certainty, she found Mitch wasn’t unlike the handful of other men she’d been intimate with, except he wasn’t asking for permission. He just needed consent.

  “Fuck me, please,” she whispered, emotion choking off her words. She’d given in, and it hadn’t killed her. In fact, it made the pleasure of knowing what was coming all the more exciting.

  Mitch spun her to face the bed and pressed a firm palm onto her back, bending her over the dark coverlet. His bare foot wedged between her boots and spread her legs hip width apart. His hard chest arched over her back, his erection pressing into the crack of her ass. One arm wrapped around her waist, lifting her body hard against his. Exposed this way, open to him, something inside ripped free.

  “God, that ass.” His hand came down sharply on her left cheek. The sting made her clit tense, and she moaned her approval.

  Mitch kneaded the burning flesh with his palm, easing the screaming nerves. “So, my little Angel likes to be spanked.”

  She’d never been spanked by another man to know how she felt about it, but now that Mitch had broken her in, she couldn’t stop the anticipation of another.

  She gyrated her hips in a full circle and waited for the next throbbing slap, longing to feel the pain followed by his comforting touch again. Instead, foil ripped behind her, and Mitch backed away long enough to don protection.

  As soon as his weight returned, she felt the burning pressure of his entry. Holding in a scream of pain that dulled with his second thrust, Lacy bit her lower lip. The too full sensation eased as she grew to accommodate him.

  She’d never known it could be like this. This heated and animalistic. This intense.

  Mitch’s head dropped to her back. “Fuck, Angel. You are so tight.”

  Lacy choked down the building sob.

  He wrapped an arm around her middle for stability and pulled her up against his chest. He stopped moving, leaving himself buried inside her. Hair from his head tickled the back of her neck. He kissed a line up her back, stopping above her right ear. Please don’t let this be the end of it.

  “Did I hurt you?” The whisper blew across her ear. “I never want to hurt you.”

  She answered with a thrust of her hips, burying his length deeper.

  Her answer seemed to satisfy him. He rocked his hips and the full sensation grew. “That’s it, Angel. Your body is begging for me.” He slowed his rhythm and pressed one hand into the small of her back and the other on her inner thigh.

  With each thrust, her muscles spasmed and shook until she couldn’t hold her body off the bed alone. She let her weight sink onto his arm as the first wave of release washed over her drained body.

  Mitch gave her a hard squeeze around the middle. “Not yet, Angel.”

  Pulling her to her feet, his free hand still wrapped around her waist. His fingers ventured down her thigh and worked her swollen mound as he pumped into her at a punishing rate. Skin slapped skin, sending echoes through the room. Skilled fingers circled over her throbbing arousal until the pressure working her inside met with the pleasure from outside, and her body stiffened around him in release.

  Mitch groaned from deep in his throat and slammed into her twice more, helping her ride out the wave before his own hot release filled her.

  He arched over her back, pinning her to him with one hand on her shoulder and the other arm pressing her body against his chest from beneath. His mouth grazed her ear. “You’ve ruined me for anyone else, Angel.” He spoke against her neck before sinking his teeth into the sensitive skin and thrusting deep inside her one last time.

  The pain cut through the fog, clouding her brain more and made every nerve-ending prickle.

  With one hand firmly wrapped around her body, Mitch pulled back the coverlet. His legs urged her forward, and she slid under the warm sheets. His body molded into her side. He rubbed a thumb over where he’d bit her neck in his release and nuzzled her throat with his chin.

  He didn’t ask permission or forgiveness, and she f
ound with Mitch, she didn’t need either. She just needed to be needed. For now, that was enough.

  ***

  He didn’t snore. Lacy noticed that right off, though she hadn’t expected him to. Men as uptight as Mitch never snored.

  Lying on his stomach, he’d draped one arm over her middle and laced a heavy thigh through her legs, pinning her to the bed.

  He’d been gracious enough to let her escape for a few minutes after they’d both regained their breath. He’d directed her to the towels under the sink in the bathroom and given her a lighter, yet still fully satisfying, pop on her ass as she retreated for the sanctity of the bathroom. Cleaned and refreshed, she returned and nuzzled into the warmth and safety of his arms and fell into a dreamless sleep.

  That had been hours ago, though, she’d lost track of time listening to the sounds of the house breathing around her and the lap of the river outside the cracked French doors that led to a private deck off the bedroom. Antsy and more than a tad curious, she needed to be up and moving around. Maybe a little movement and snooping would settle her enough to fall asleep again.

  Mitch pulled her back down with his heavy arm when she tried to escape. He turned to his side and groaned, pulling her into him until his erection dug into her back. How could he still be hard? Or was this new, brought on by a dream? She should wake him. Should see if he’d take her again half asleep and more willing to give his power over to her.

  The urge to forget the call of nature, to snuggle into him and never come up for air again was strong, but with a little extra effort, she pulled free from his weight. The extra effort knocked her foot into the dresser and sent the forgotten case files sailing across the bedroom floor.

  “Shit,” Lacy cursed under her breath and pulled the askew papers from all directions back into a pile.

  Cops had a thing about their files. She’d learned from her father and in later years, her brother. Files were weapons. Researched, concise, priceless upper-hands in the fight against evil.

  She dropped to her knees and glanced up to catch Mitch still sleeping, the hint of a smile riding his lips like a well-kept secret.