Tangled (Steele Ranch 3)

I had. That night was seared in my memory. Sutton meeting the woman of his dreams at the Poulson rodeo of all places, getting her in his hotel room for a wild romp. One night turned into two and he discovered she was into sharing. Wanting to fulfill one of her fantasies, he called me and Lee, had us join them. God, I remembered every bit of that long night; the plump weight of her breasts, the taste of her pussy as I ate her out, the feel of her walls constricting my cock as she came when I’d fucked her ass—she’d even wanted that, the way she’d taken me deep down her throat. The way she’d been pleasured by three men who’d made her the center of their world. It had been…intense, incredible and I’d been lost, almost as much as Sutton, since she’d snuck off. Lee, too.

“I’ve told you for the past year she wanted it, but was nervous. Making the room pitch black gave her the three-guy experience without seeing faces. She’d loved it.”

“Jesus, I know. She got three mouths, three dicks and six hands on her.” All night long.

“And about a dozen orgasms.” I heard him groan just from talking about it. She was the one who got away, sneaking out before dawn, never to be heard from again. It wasn’t as if I hadn’t tried a police search for the name Cricket. Nothing. She’d been a fucking unicorn. Until now.

“That night is the top of my spank-bank list,” I said, my cock getting hard now, even on a stop. Her record pulled up on the screen. “You said she was hot as fuck. You’re right.” I’d remembered the sweet suction of her mouth, the rippling of her pussy, the breathy moans of her pleasure, but I’d never seen her face. For one wild night I’d been blind, and now I could see.

“Shit,” he groaned, most likely wishing he was in the patrol SUV with me.

“She’s from Missoula,” I told him, reading what was on the small computer screen. “Not even a parking ticket. But something’s not right with her. She nervous. Panicked even.”

“Why did you pull her over?”

“Speeding.”

“Where?”

“County road thirty-four.”

“I’ll be there in twenty. I’m not letting her get away again.”

I rubbed my brow. “Man, I can’t hold her for twenty minutes for a speeding ticket.”

Right then, she climbed from her car, hurried over to mine. Even in her slim jeans, her legs were a mile long. I remembered how they felt about my waist. I wanted that again.

“Hang on,” I said, pulling the phone away from my ear.

“Look, I did it,” she said when she came up to stand within the space of the open driver’s door, glancing at me, then over her shoulder, as if someone was after her. The two-lane road was all but deserted, only one car having passed since I’d stopped her. “I was speeding, breaking the law. I’ve been bad.” She held her arms out, wrists together. “Slap the handcuffs on me.”

I went from having a semi to fully erect in the span of time it took her to say Slap the handcuffs on me. The Cricket from last year would have loved some kinky restraints.

“Arrest me,” she added with breathy desperation.

But while my dick thought otherwise, she wasn’t talking like a woman propositioning a man. Especially not one she’d had sex with before, not that she knew it. She had no idea who I was. She never saw my face that night. Heard my voice, yes, but it had been twelve long months. Not something to remember. I didn’t remember hers. Maybe if she called out my name in a breathy gasp of pleasure I might, but she wasn’t the least bit aroused. She was afraid. Very afraid. Something had her scared as shit.

I stepped out of the car, forcing her to retreat, and closed the door behind me.

“You want to go to jail?” I asked, assessing her.

No, she wasn’t on drugs. She’d been speeding because she’d been running from something. Someone. The way she glanced down the road in the direction she’d come from, she was worried this person was following. If she was scared enough to ask to be arrested, then I wasn’t going to let her off with a warning and send her on her way to protect herself. No fucking way. If she was scared, I’d take care of her.

Keeping my eyes on her, I lifted my cell to my ear, and lowered my voice. “I’m coming to you. Thirty minutes, and call Lee,” I told Sutton before disconnecting and tossing the cell through the open window and onto the center console.

“I’ll need to frisk you.”

Her eyes widened and her cheeks went pink.

“Turn around and put your hands on the hood.”

She complied, then glanced over her shoulder at me.

Fuck, this was hot. She was all slim curves. I remembered the heavy weight of her tits in my hands, the roundness of her hips, her gorgeous heart-shaped ass. But that had been all by touch. Now I could see all of her. The idea of putting a hand between her shoulder blades to make her ass stick out was all too tempting. She needed a spanking for her reckless driving. I could give her one—would love to get my palm on that pert flesh—but Sutton was the one who dominated best.

Now wasn’t the time to do that, to even dwell on those thoughts because she thought I was on the clock. I had been until she’d told me her name. Still, I wasn’t stupid. Last summer, she’d fled in the early morning hours, never to be seen or heard from again…until now. Traffic stops were dangerous, and I wasn’t going to let my dick get me killed. I didn’t think she was a threat, but I wasn’t going to risk it. If she had a weapon on her, I wanted to know.

“Do you have any drugs on your person?” I asked, my gaze raking over her worn jeans, the simple t-shirt. She wore no jewelry.