Lady Luck (Colorado #3)

He tore his mouth from hers, his hands moving over her with intent, his lips whispering against hers, “Baby –”

“Don’t stop,” she begged, her hands at his head trying to pull him back, get his mouth, she lifted her head and he pulled back an inch.

“I’m not stopping, Lexie, but listen, yeah?”

He watched her face, her eyes hooded, his hand moved over her stomach, down the front of her shorts and she licked her lips.

Christ.

Beautiful.

“I’m gonna give it to you,” he murmured.

“Okay,” she breathed.

“No, not like that, first, I’m going to –” His hand had slid between her legs, over her shorts and he stopped speaking because her eyes closed, her lips parted and her neck arched.

Jesus, was she coming?

He cupped her between her legs.

“Baby?”

Her neck righted and her eyes slid half open. “Why do you keep stopping?” The words were half a breath, half a snap.

He grinned. “I’m not.”

“You’re not kissing me and you’re not touching me, how’s that not stopping?”

“Jesus, wildcat, keep your shirt on. I need to tell you –”

“Hello? Ty?” she called, arching her back, pressing her hips in his hand and he felt his hold on his control slip so he was hanging on by his fingernails. “I don’t want to keep my shirt on.”

“Lexie, you’re not helping.”

“Helping what?”

“Baby, I haven’t had a woman in five years. This isn’t fuckin’ easy seein’ as all I can think is I wanna bury myself inside you, good for me but it’s been so long, I take what I want, it’s not gonna be good for you. You wanna cut me some slack so I can make sure I see to you before I see to me?”

She blinked. Then her eyes warmed and he watched, right there, an inch away as she flipped the switch and her light flooded out, bathing him in brightness.

Then a loud knock came at the door.

She froze under him and he stilled on top of her. His hand was still between her legs and his cock was still hard and he was about ten minutes away from finally making his wife his wife and someone was knocking on the fucking door on fucking Sunday morning.

“Jesus, fuck, you gotta be kidding,” he muttered.

“Ty Walker! Carnal Police. Need a word.”

The limbs Lexie had around him tightened but his head turned to look at the back of the couch.

He didn’t see couch. He saw red.

“Jesus, fuck, you gotta be fucking kidding,” he clipped then knifed off his wife.

“Ty, let me get it,” she called from behind him.

“I got it,” he growled, prowling to the door.

“No, honey, please.” He heard her, she was up and on the move, he could tell by the way her feet hit the floor that she was rushing. “You need to let me get it.”

He didn’t let her get it. He walked to the door and tore it open.

Then he saw him.

Fucking motherfucker.

“What?” he clipped and then he felt her at his back, close, pressing her body to him, just to the side so she could peer around.

“You’re home,” good old boy, asshole, so fucking dirty he was filthy cop, Officer Rowdy Crabtree noted.

“Yeah, you’ve known that awhile, Rowdy, seein’ as you followed us to Carnal from the Colorado state line.”

He felt Lexie press closer to his back.

Rowdy didn’t respond, his eyes moved to Lexie who was peeking around his side.

“Mrs. Walker, nice to meet you, ma’am,” he stated, dipping his chin.

Motherfucker.

“Uh… hi,” she said softly.

Rowdy’s eyes tipped up to Walker’s.

“Pretty. You get her off the internet, order her from prison or somethin’?”

Motherfucker.

Walker locked it down and asked, “You here for a reason, Rowdy?”

Rowdy nodded his head. “Yup. Just stopped by, makin’ sure you checked in with your parole officer.”

“Think maybe you could ask my parole officer that?” Walker asked.

“Didn’t think a’ that.”

“Well, you did, you’d find out from him that I did.”

“Well, that’s fine. Wouldn’t want you steppin’ outta line, doin’ somethin’ stupid, needin’ to go back and finish your time.”

There it was. Under their thumb. He went right to it. Didn’t even beat around the bush.

Fuck.

“Got a wife. Got a job. Got a life I’m pickin’ up, Rowdy. Just seein’ to my business and mindin’ only my own. Might wanna try that sometime,” Walker returned.

“Not possible for me, seein’ as I’m an officer of the law. Sometimes I need to stick my nose places,” Rowdy replied.

“Careful of that,” Walker said low. “Junkyard dogs might bite it off.”

His chest puffed up and he leaned in half an inch. “That a threat, inmate Walker?”

“Not an inmate anymore. I’m free. Hooked up with my parole officer. Hooked up with a job. Got a wife who knows my every move. Not gonna step out of line. Someone thinks I do, sees somethin’ they didn’t really see, got someone at my back to tell it as it is.”

And there he was. Right into it. Not beating around the bush.

And Lexie heard.

And she understood.

He knew this because she froze solid behind him.

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