Secret Weapon
His hand stroked her cheek, then cupped her face. He drew back until only half his cock filled her mouth.
“Suck it, baby.”
She swished her tongue over the head, then sucked, her cheeks hollowing. She moved up and down on him, speeding up as she heard his raspy breathing accelerate. He groaned and pushed deeper. Knowing he was close, she let him glide from her mouth, then opened her legs wide.
“Are you going to fuck me, Officer?”
He groaned, but quickly pressed his cock to her exposed pussy and nudged her opening. She gasped as he drove forward, impaling her in one, sure stroke. He eased her back, but her hands, still cuffed behind her, got in the way.
“Damn.” He put one arm around her waist, positioned the other under her ass, and lifted her.
She wrapped her legs around him as he carried her across the room, his cock jostling inside her, driving her insane with need. Finally, he sat her on the edge of the dresser, then forked his fingers through her long, blond hair and twisted it around his hand. Tilting her face upward, he captured her lips and drove his tongue deep, pillaging her mouth with his forceful strokes.
Still holding her head immobile with his tight hold on her hair, he released her mouth. With their gazes locked, he drew back, then impaled her again. She gasped, her eyelids falling closed.
“Open your eyes.” His commanding voice broke through her haze of pleasure.
She opened her eyes and became mesmerized by his heated, intensely sensual gaze. He drew back and drove into her again. Then again. She moaned at the depth of his thrusts. As he pounded into her, her insides quivered. She squeezed him, then gasped as pleasure erupted inside her. He drove deeper, then clutched her body tight to his as he groaned and exploded inside her.
They remained like that, his arms holding her close, as their breathing returned to normal. Finally, he eased back and drew her lips to his, kissing her gently.
He grinned. “You really are a bad girl.” He nuzzled the base of her neck, then sucked deeply.
That will leave a mark.
Not that she cared. In fact, it helped remind the other men in her life that she was not exclusive property. Not that any of her current men would protest. She picked them carefully.
Too bad Sloan couldn’t be just as cooperative.
* * *
Sloan walked toward his car, wondering what the hell he’d been thinking when he’d suggested to Derek that he could take part in that fantasy scenario. Sloan had transferred from L.A. to Kenora knowing Janine lived here, intending to find her and to try to take up where they’d left off when they’d been teens and had discovered the powerful attraction between them.
As he walked past a small corner store, a couple of teenagers leaning against the brick wall noticed him—and the uniform—and straightened up a little, nonchalantly avoiding looking at him. They weren’t trouble, he could sense that. Just nervous around authority figures, especially a man with a badge.
When he’d become a cop, hoping to protect the world from thugs like the one who’d taken Ben’s life, he’d thrown himself into his work. Only later did he realize he’d had a window of opportunity after Ben’s death to be the one Janine leaned on, to allow their relationship to find its way naturally. Not taking advantage of her feelings, but offering her real support. Opening up to each other and becoming close.
But he’d been grieving, too. He hadn’t seen what she’d needed, until it was too late and he’d driven her away. He’d tried to take Ben’s place in her life as her protector but missed that she also needed support and compassion.
He’d blown it. She’d moved to Kenora to get away from him, and now he’d stepped into exactly the same role.
What he’d intended was to show her he’d changed. That he could accept her the way she was. Especially now, with her sexual openness and wild lifestyle. If he could convince her he could be a part of it, then he’d win her heart and draw her into a committed relationship.
His first step was to show her he could be just as wild as she could. After this evening, he’d certainly made his job harder.
* * *
At the knock on the door Janine glanced up from her magazine. She placed it on the coffee table and walked to the door, then peered out the peephole.
Sloan. Her lips pursed. What was he doing here?
He’d probably come to give her a lecture about last night again.
Well, if he’d come here to lecture, she’d give him a reason to. Annoyed at herself for letting him make her feel guilty, she felt the sudden urge to scandalize him. He knocked again. She took several steps away from the door, unbuttoning her blouse as she went. She slipped it off her shoulders, folded it in half and laid it neatly on the back of the couch, then adjusted the cups of her black lace bra, maximizing visibility of the swell of her breasts. She gazed at her reflection in the glass door of her tall bookshelf. Too bad she wasn’t wearing that burgundy bra that barely covered her nipples. Sloan would find that truly scandalous.
He knocked again.
She hurried to the door, and turned the knob. As soon as it unlatched and she pulled it toward her, she said, “Roger, come on in. I’ll be ready in a minute.”