Back in the Saddle (11 page)

“Reach down and touch yourself.” Chance’s voice was so thick and raw she almost didn’t recognize it. “Go on, sugar. Do it.”

She moved one hand down between her legs and found her clit.

“You just rub that little bundle of nerves,” he told her. “And when I say so, pinch it real hard. Okay?”

She nodded, unable to say one thing.

His hips set up a rhythm motion, moving his cock in and out of her dark channel, slowly at first, then faster and faster. The sensations clawing through her were unlike anything she’d ever felt before. She moved her body to the same tempo, riding his cock, taking him as deep as she could.

The orgasm was like a living thing twisting up out of her belly, reaching, reaching, reaching. Chance’s hands tightened on her as he pounded into her.

“Now, Molly,” he shouted. “Do it, now.”

She pinched her clit as hard as she could…and exploded. Chance gripped her hips as his cock flexed and pulsed inside her and her cunt spasmed again and again. She fell forward, unsure if she would survive the aftermath, Chance moving with her. The only sound in the room was the grating noise of their breath seesawing in and out of their lungs, although her heart was pounding so hard she was sure it, too, could be heard.

It could have been minutes or hours when Chance finally rolled to the side, taking her with him, still connected to her. He kissed her neck, brushing away the damp tendrils of hair. Then her cheeks, her ear, biting the soft flesh of the lobe.

“You’re mine, Molly Hayes. And don’t you ever forget it.”

“Same goes,” she managed in a whisper.

“It’s been a tough ride,” he said, “but I guess you could say we’re both back in the saddle again.”

“I’ll ride with you anytime, cowboy,” she murmured.

And for the first time in as long as she could remember, Molly knew she was where she belonged.

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Cocked & Loaded

by

Desiree Holt

When Jamie Randall kicked the dust of Amen, Texas from her heels, she swore neither the town nor the bad boy she'd given her virginity to would ever see her again. Yet here she is, returning under a cloud of disgrace, not a penny to her name or a soul to welcome her—least of all the sheriff.

Jamie Randall—a decade hadn’t lessened the bitter taste of her name. Zane Cameron had only been good enough for sultry summer sex. But the local hell raiser is the sheriff now and determined to run her hot little body off the worthless piece of land her father left her and right out of his sleepy little town. Just as soon as he scratches a twelve-year-old itch.

Explosive passion changes Zane’s mind, but before they can explore their feelings, strange events threaten Jamie and it becomes obvious someone else wants her out of the way. Dirty money, cold-blooded murder, and deadly secrets interfere with Zane’s plans to convince Jamie to give him a second chance.

Chapter One

Zane Cameron stared at the figure walking out of the supermarket. He lifted his sunglasses just to be sure his eyes weren’t playing tricks on him. When he heard she’d showed up two days ago, he was sure someone was pulling his leg. But no, there she was. Jamie Randall. Big as life. Not even a hint of shame or embarrassment for either her leave-taking or her current situation.

The last time Zane saw her she was a flowering eighteen-year-old who’d teased him with her body, then left town so fast her heels kicked up a cloud of dust. All she left behind was a drunk for a father and stinging words for Zane. And, of course, a bitterness and resentment that built up in him all these years.

Now here she was again and he smelled big trouble.

He watched her wheel her cart to her shiny dark blue SUV. A symbol of her ill-gotten success. The worn jeans and old Texas Tech T-shirt were little camouflage for what had become a lush, ripe body. Thick blue-black hair pulled back in a ponytail bounced as she moved. Huge sunglasses barely concealed the tight set of her face. And where he’d expected her walk to still be graceful and tempting, now it was purposeful and angry.

Five feet four inches of sexual dynamite that he hoped wouldn’t blow up in his face.

No one could miss the fact that Jamie was mad at the world, both about being home and the circumstances that brought her here. Well, no madder than he was at the way she’d left, despite everything between them. Or everything he’d
thought
was between them.

She loaded the groceries into the truck, climbed in, and slammed the door. He didn’t need to follow her as she roared out onto the highway. He knew exactly where she was going. What he needed to do was get his anger under control, the rage that always bubbled up whenever he thought of her. A rage heavily colored with lust. In twelve years, that feeling had built itself to quite a level.

Get over it. She wasn’t worth it then and she’s not worth it now.

So why, after all these years, did his traitorous dick still get hard whenever he remembered her naked body? Why did his hands twitch, remembering the feel of her young breasts in them? His nose still remembered the scent of roses and honeysuckle in her hair. His mouth, the taste of her tempting juices. One would think by this time he’d have himself under control.

Except Jamie Randall was like a festering sore inside him, one he needed to lance and get rid of, once and for all.

All these years, he’d been able to deal with the way she’d just flat out left him because she’d been far away in a different life. But to see her every day now, to know the contempt she’d held him in, would be an impossible situation.

No way was she coming back to Amen, Texas and twitching her ass in front of his face. She left town once. He planned to make sure she did it again. Jamie Randall would have to leave whether she wanted to or not. Only this time it would be on his terms and not until he’d satisfied a twelve-year-old itch.

Easier said than done, cowboy.

He cranked the engine a little too hard, and pulled away from the curb, heading out on the dusty highway. She should be home by now. There was no time like the present to get on with business, but it wasn’t business he was looking forward to.

All the way to the scrubby patch of land her father had left her, Zane talked to himself.
Face her. Get it over with. Move on.

The caliche driveway leading to the old Randall house was potholed and bumpy, a sign of long neglect. The house itself was a reflection of the man who’d lived there, alone. Decaying, rotting away, making a pretense at something but not quite pulling it off.

He pulled the department’s big Expedition in behind Jamie’s smaller SUV and cut the ignition. As tiny as Amen was, he hadn’t been in this house since Jamie left town. He didn’t even want to go there now, but the whole mess from the past was like dry toast stuck in his throat.

Suck it up, man. Speak your piece and get it over with.

Taking his time, he climbed out of the car and walked up the cracked cement path. The inside door stood open and, through the screen door, he could see her moving around in the kitchen. Gritting his teeth, he raised his hand and knocked on the wood door frame.

“Go away.” The words had a harsh bite to them. “No curiosity seekers allowed today.”

Zane cleared his throat. “Jamie, it’s Zane Cameron.”

She froze in place, then turned in his direction. For a moment, he wasn’t sure she’d even come to the door. Finally, she padded over the wood floor on bare feet, slowly, not rushing. He guessed she wasn’t any more anxious for this meeting than he was.

“Well, well,” she drawled. “Nice of you to drop by, Sheriff. Did you come to arrest me?”

“I came to talk to you. How about letting me in?”

She shook her head, the tight, angry look still on her face. “I don’t think so. I’m in no mood to play Twenty Questions today.”

“Damn it, Jamie. Open this door.” He pulled, but the door was latched on the inside.

“Go away. I can’t think of anything we have to say to each other.”

“Oh, I have plenty to say. Open the damn door, or I’ll break it down.”

Nice going, asshole. Smooth.

She stared at him through the screen. Then he heard the snick of the latch being released and she stepped back to allow him to enter.

“Okay.” She posed arrogantly in front of him, hands planted on her hips, mouth in a thin line. “Say what you came to say and get the fuck out of here.”

It was obvious she’d been working. A few wisps of her hair had straggled loose from her ponytail, clinging to her cheeks like threads of fine silk. A smudge of dirt decorated her straight nose, and a thin scratch marred the smooth, tanned skin of her slim forearm. As unglamorous as a woman could look, yet somehow, she was more tempting than if she’d been wearing a slinky dress and high heels.

Zane had to resist the urge to stare at her breasts, outlined by the soft T-shirt material. Mature Jamie Randall’s breasts were making his mouth water and his palms itch. But they also made his dick want to stand at attention again so he shut down his mind. All he needed was an erection right now. Then again, maybe that was exactly what he needed. “Nice language you’ve learned since you’ve been gone.”

“That’s not all I’ve learned.” Her blue eyes, the color deepening to navy, flashed. The thick lashes framing them only enhanced the intensity of her fury. She was like a time bomb set to go off. “Anyway, pardon my lack of social graces, but I’m not in a very good mood right now. I don’t have the patience to take crap from anyone, so what is it you want?”

“I came to find out why you’re here in this, let’s see, what did you call it?” He frowned. “Oh, yeah. ‘Godforsaken town you’d never spit on again.’” His pent-up anger, stored away all these years, wanted to rise up and overtake him.

“Well, we can’t all make the choices we’d like to.” Jamie’s gaze swept over his face, studying him. “So. I’ll ask you again. Why are you really here? You trying to run me out of town, Sheriff?” She spat out the last word as if it had a bad taste to it.

“Seems to me the last time you and I had a conversation, I distinctly remember you saying you wouldn’t come back to Amen unless hell froze over.” His eyes never wavered from hers. “Must be mighty cold down there right about now.”

And that’s how cold it would be before she threw her lot in with him, she’d told him. Twelve years ago he was just the half-breed son of a man always in trouble. She’d been willing to fuck him all right—fuck the half-breed with the legendary dick—but then it was adios.

He waited for her to comment, but she stood there, silent, vibrating with anger. Her nipples pushed stiffly against the thin fabric of her T-shirt, and a pulse beat heavily at her throat. Sex and anger. Two sides of the same coin. He had to suppress an urge to rip off her clothes and run his hands over that now-adult body. Time hadn’t diminished one bit of the lust he felt for her. Damn it.

At last she shook her head and took a step back. “If you came for all the sordid details of my fall from grace, you wasted your time. Read the newspapers. They had plenty to say. So is that it? Are we done?”

“Not by half.” He moved closer to her. “You’re damn straight I want to know why you’re here and when you’re leaving. I can’t believe this is some big homecoming for you.”

Yes, when will you get out of my life again and leave me to my accustomed misery?

“Well.” Her voice was bitter. “You don’t mince any words, do you?”

More silence. He forced himself to outwait her.

“Why the hell do you think I’m here? I guess I’m lucky my drunk of a father got himself killed and left me this worthless piece of property. Which is a damn good thing since, at the moment, it seems I have no place else to go.” She stuck out her chin in defiance. “Why? Are you planning to run me off?”

Yes, if I could. But first I’m going to fuck your brains out the way I’ve wanted to do all these years since you ran from me. This time you’ll take more than a little taste of the half-breed Zane Cameron with you.