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Authors: Joey W. Hill

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BOOK: If Wishes Were Horses
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He checked his map  and made  the turn off the highway onto the rural  route,hugging the edge of the road to get past the sawhorse barrier left by a road crew that  Linda had warned him about. He  absently noted it was very isolated and lovely, as she had promised. The road was little more than a  dirt  track after the  first mile. He didn’t see a farm  or home, which suggested protected wetlands. If they could find a dry clearing for parking, this would be a good place.

He started at the sound of a siren and glanced up in his mirror.

“What the —”

There was a state trooper behind him. Great. The officer must have  seen him going around the barrier and was investigating. He  pulled over and shifted to get his wallet out of his back pocket.

“Sir, keep your hands  on the wheel.”

The microphone was startling in the pastoral quiet. He immediately complied, hisbrow furrowed. The command took him by surprise, but he knew better than to argue with a cop before they got acquainted. An  image of Sarah cuffed and writhing beneath him flashed through his brain, and he almost  groaned at the longing that gripped him in a tight, painful vise.

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The trooper’s voice was a woman’s, though distorted by the microphone. Shepulled past him, turning the car in front of him at an angle.

The door opened and  her legs came out, clad in the fawn-colored trousers tuckedinto polished black boots. She rose and her back was to him as she  adjusted her gun belt and her hat. She bent back in to retrieve something.

While his thoughts and heart were firmly  locked on Sarah, Justin Herne was a very sexual man, and one who noticed women. This  female  trooper was wearing the tightest pair of trooper jodhpurs he’d ever seen, stretched so taut  over her skin it  clearly definedthe crack of that terrific ass, and the fact  there was no way she was wearing underwear.

“What kind of officer—” and then  she turned.

He blinked. She wore the short-sleeved  thin summer weight uniform shirt that

went with the pale breeches, and she was all but spilling out of  it. Her breasts were  pushed together and displayed  up high in a black lace  shelf bra. He knew this, because  the top two buttons of the undersized shirt were open so he could see the quivering top  of her breasts, barely tucked into the cups. As she headed toward him, the effect was  enhanced by the sway of her hips, exacerbated by the weight of the  gun on her hip. Her hand rested  lightly on  it. It had taken him  a full thirty seconds to reach her face. Moist  pink lips and fiery blue eyes, her pale  white-gold hair pulled up under the hat.

“Holy Mother—”

She stopped at the lowered window of the  convertible BMW. “I think I told  you to keep your hands on the wheel, Mr. Herne,”  she purred, bending over, her hand braced on the door. In that posture, with her hand  still on  her belt, he was staring into  two perfectly displayed breasts within  licking distance, if he had any saliva to  use. Stupidly, he obeyed, returning his hands to the wheel. “Sarah, what—”

In a quick move he would have seen coming if his mind hadn’t been so boggled with lust and shock, she pulled the handcuffs  from  the  back of her belt and locked his  right wrist to the base of the steering wheel.

However, the position required her to lean further over him. He recovered his wits enough to  grab her neck with his  free hand,  knocking her hat off so  her blonde ponytail spilled over  her shoulder. He caught her mouth with his and plundered, not caring that she might be arresting him, just needing desperately to drink from that mouth he hadn’t  had in weeks and needed right now. Even if  he died  in the next  moment, which was  possible, since she was armed.

He wanted  to fill  his hands with  those ripe breasts as well but was afraid to let go, afraid she’d pull back  and he’d be forced to rip his steering wheel out of its column toget her.

She pulled back gasping, her lips  swollen. She ducked out from under his hand andstepped back from the car. Justin shoved open  the door and lunged after her. The cuffbrought him up short, making him stand  in the open doorway as she stayed a maddening foot out of reach.

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She was getting her breath back, though  he wished she wouldn’t, for her erraticbreathing did wonderful things with that shirt. He could tell for certain now she wasn’twearing underwear, for the trousers cut into  her pussy, defining the labia for his gaze.  Silently he begged to see that area darken  with moisture, proving his effect on her.

Good Lord, Herne, get a grip. You’re  acting like a randy teenager.

“In this situation,” she said, somehow managing to come across officious and stern,  even with a hitch in her voice, “an officer typically tells  you your rights. I’m going to tell you what rights you
 
don’t
 
have anymore.”

So here it was. An elaborate way to dump  him and  cruel, but he knew he  had it coming. He wished she’d just take out the  gun and shoot him, because that would be  less painful.

“You see these?” She lifted her left hand, showing  him a set of glossy nails, filed to smooth curves and painted a delicate pink that  looked so attractive on her he wanted to  suck each  fingertip. “This is one of the many things I have done during my  recuperation. A weekly manicure. One of the countless, inane, trivial things you do to  keep yourself from going completely insane  when you’re out of death’s door, but not  quite up to  your daily job. But  I discovered something nice about these nails, Justin. Well-manicured nails feel very stimulating when you caress yourself.”

Her fingers slid into the open collar of the shirt and stroked over the top of one  rounded curve. He swallowed, but she wasn’t  done. Her fingertip straightened, slid  down the deep cleft between them, then down over her stomach to the top of her thigh,  so close to that well outlined pubic area he  wished he had the magic to will her to touch  herself.

“I did a lot of that, Justin. I’d lie there in  my bed, alone, and I’d caress myself. I imagined my fingers were your tongue, your lips, the slide of your  cock in my cunt. I’d  be wet just thinking about it, even before I ran these glossy nails over my clit, gave it a light bite with them, the way I’d imagine your teeth would do it.”

“I can do it now, if you’ll just  come here,” he said impatiently.

“You left me there,” she said, slicing through his words. “Left me with nurses and  doctors, and my own thoughts.”

“I thought you—”

“No.” She held up that hand. “Number one. You don’t have the right to speak until I’m through, so shut up, or I swear, I’ll pistol whip your testicles.”

He winced. “Jesus, Sarah.”

“Number two.” Her fingers closed into a ball  with two digits lifted. “You don’t ever

have the right to pull a stunt like  you did in  the hospital.” Her eyes met his, and what  he saw there stilled him, the deep flame of volcanic lava, simmering just on the edge of eruption. “Do you know that after I was shot, I was in the hospital about the same  amount of time?”

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Joey W. Hill

Herne shook his head, because she raised a  brow expectantly for an answer. “No, I

didn’t know that.”

“Of course you didn’t.  It was pretty much like it was this time. You wander in this

nebulous state of life and death,  not sure which way you should go. It’s clear which is

which, you don’t get confused about that. Life is harsh fluorescent lights, chemical smells, pain. Every time I surfaced, if I saw my husband, I saw the truth of our life  together on his face. He was there, but he  already wasn’t there. I knew  it. I had to  choose life for myself, just for me, knowing he didn’t want me anymore.”

“Oh, Sarah.” He reached out a hand for her, but she shook her head, stepped back.

“I’m not telling you this for your sympathy. This time, every time I surfaced,
 
you
 
were there. Not just waiting for me to get up so we could go back to having a  relationship where we’d pretend we were devoted to each other.  Not just there because  you had a week’s worth of lust and attraction for me boiling through your system.”

She took a deep breath, and it shuddered through her. Justin realized in sudden  anguish that she was  fighting tears. If they  spilled  from those blue eyes, he had  no  doubt he’d go to his knees and beg for the right to touch her.

“No, you were
 
there
, by my  side, in my head, in my  heart. This time I knew I’d  make it
 
because
 
you were there, not in spite of that. Do  you know how terrifying it  was  to realize my heart was that dependent on  you after  less than a  week of knowing you?  So, Number Three. This is the big one, Herne, so pay attention.” She blinked twice,  swallowed, pointed one of those glossy nails at him.

“You don’t have the right to play games with  me, to make me choose you. To make me lower my shields when it’s already so  blessed obvious how important you are to me. I can’t handle that.” Her voice caught, and she averted her face from him.

“Sarah.” He moved forward, and the cuff  caught  him again. “Damn it,” he  exploded. “Come here and take this off, or  I swear I’ll rip the damn steering wheel out.”

She was crying without making a  sound, her shoulders shaking.

“For  God’s  sake

,  let  me  hold  you.  I

’ve  wanted to do  nothing else  since I left your

side. Do you know every time I heard a car come down the road I practically mowed

down my customers to  look out the window? I got a damn crick in my neck.”

“You could have come to me.”

“No, Sarah,” he said. “I’m sorry, so sorry. My  intention wasn’t to play games with  you, I swear. I wanted you to be sure when  you chose, because I was already certain  about you. I knew the first time we made love  in your house, but even if I hadn’t been  certain then, I was the  night…that  night when  we stopped him.”

She  turned  her  head  to  look  at  him.  He  didn’t  want  to  bring  it  up,  knew  it  hauntedher, but she could handle hearing about it, he knew it. Nothing defeated her. He wondered at what he had done to earn  the blessing of her in his life.

“Everything was laid bare, Sarah. You knew  it,  felt it, just as I did. In that moment, with the Lord and Lady in us, our souls knew that we were meant for each other. I love

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you, Sarah. It was there, just waiting, since that first second I saw you. Our minds haven’t caught up to  it, but it’s  in my  heart and soul and I wanted you to choose. I  wouldn’t take half, or stand the wait.”

She stared at him, defiant still, her eyes bright with new tears.

“I’m begging you, Sarah,” he  rasped. “Let me  hold you. I’ve been hard as a rock for  days, and all I’ve wanted is you.”

“All right,” she murmured, and he thought they were the most sacred two words  he’d ever heard.

She came toward him. One step, two steps, and she was there. Before she could reach for the key, he had his free arm around  her, crushing her to  him, holding her with her face against his neck. Her arms came up  to twine around his back and waist and she trembled in his embrace.

“I thought I had lost you,” he said into  her hair, and he meant the night of the  incubus as much as when he had to  walk out on her at the hospital.

“Never,” she said, muffled against his skin. She tilted her head. He kissed the salt of  her tears away, tasted her with his tongue. She made a sound in the back of her throat  and pressed her body against him. He insinuated his thigh between her legs and she  opened for him there, whimpering in that  maddening way when she rubbed against  him.

“You put on some weight since I last saw you,” he said, his hand palming one cheek of her bottom and clamping down hard,  savoring the feel of her squirming, her  quick smile.

“I’ve been drinking milkshakes everyday,” she informed him. “Doctor’s orders.”

“Anything else gotten  rounder and fatter?”

“Your lip, if you keep it up, Herne.”

He grinned.  “You going to let me go?”

She leaned past him, biting her lip as his free hand slid around to cup her crotch  and found her blessedly wet. Her eyes twinkled, a mixture of lust and joy, and quick as  she unsnapped the cuff from the wheel, she clapped it down  on that other errant wrist,  locking his hands together.

“Sarah, what the—”

She snaked her arms through the  locked ring of his and closed her fingers over hisass. “Improvise.”

He slanted her a glance. Arrogance and raging hunger changed  to calculation soquickly she barely had time to  blink. “Hold on,” he warned her.

He stepped back so her arms slid free and  then brought his hands up and over her, so she was bound in the circle of  his arms  against him. He caught her buttocks in his hands and tightened his grip to alert her before  he used his strength to hitch her up onhis body. Sarah obliged with an accommodating hop and wrapped her legs around hiswaist, gasping at the feel of his erection  pressed against the base of her soaked pussy.

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Joey W. Hill

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