Undercover Engagement (Private Pleasures 5)

He cursed.

“And here.” She bestowed a kiss to the counterpart.

“Anywhere else?” He closed his eyes and clenched his jaw.

“I’m afraid so.” She ran her tongue along the underside of his cock in a long, languid stroke, and he prayed for the strength to stand firm and be a gentleman.

“Is that the last of it, then?” Please yes. Please no.

“Brace yourself, Swain. I missed another of your hard-to-reach places. A really hard place.” So saying, she closed her lips over the cruelly sensitive head of his cock and took him fully in her mouth. Sweet torture. Sweet relief. Either way, his muscles went lax on a groan of surrender…until soapy hands grabbed his ass and soap-slick fingers delved into a place he hadn’t anticipated she’d reach for. “Whoa…” His eyes sprang open. The sight of his dick cradled in her active mouth distracted him for a nanosecond, but the second wave of the clean sweep going on around back had his eyes crossing and an orgasm he considered highly premature building somewhere between his cock and…a hard place. A really hard place.

“Fuck me.” He reached down, got his hands on her, and lifted her in one swift motion. Turning them in the tight confines wasted precious seconds he wasn’t sure he could spare, but then he had her backed up against the tile, trapped there with his desperate body. Hitching her legs over his arms, bracing his foot against the edge of the tub for extra leverage, he lined her up and thrust deep. Her cry bounced off the tiles. Her arms twined around his head. Mouth fused to hers, the scent of shampoo all around them, and warm water pelting his back, he began fucking her—a slippery, body-clapping, haphazard fucking that somehow worked, because in gratifying seconds, her breaths turned choppy and her inner muscles quivered around him in quick little hugs. They pulled him in. Took him hostage. He came in a torrent, banging his fist on the tile to keep uncensored words from spilling out of his mouth. Words he shouldn’t have in him. Never had in him. Words that suggested the woman in his arms had, indeed, found her way into some very hard-to-reach places.

And he didn’t know what the hell he was going to do about it.

Chapter Sixteen

Eden sat in one of the two client chairs at Mane on Main salon, flipping through a Southern Bride magazine and waiting for Ginny to finish up with her previous customer. In the reflection of the mirror in front of her, she had a good view of the bright, welcoming salon, with generous front windows where light poured in, exposed brick walls, and lofty ceilings. Against that engaging blank canvas, Ginny herself added energy and color, and, in today’s case, her customer added even more. The woman stood at the reception desk, wearing black biker boots, black-and-white-striped thigh-highs, a tiny red, plaid pleated skirt, and a black tank top with PlayHard bedazzled across the front in red rhinestones. Eden recognized her as the Friday-night entertainment at Rawley’s, except now a swath of ombre blue shot through her long, blond curls, starting almost turquoise at the roots and darkening to indigo by the ends. The woman smiled and turned her head back and forth, admiring Ginny’s handiwork as Ginny ran her cre

dit card. “Girl, you’re a genius at hair.”

The redhead laughed. “Can I add that to my titles? Wife, mayor, genius at hair?”

“You not only can, you should.” Her armload of skinny silver bracelets jangled musically as she signed her receipt and handed it back. “But check your priorities. I say it’s genius at hair, wife, mayor.”

“Ha. Shaun and my constituents might beg to differ, but I’m glad you like the color. It plays up your eyes.”

To be friendly—and because it was true—Eden was going to chime in with an “It does,” but before she could, the woman said, “Thanks. I hope West likes it.”

And it hit her. This was Roxy Goodhart, West Donovan’s girlfriend. Officer West Donovan of the Bluelick PD. Her coworker, though she’d met him only once. Roxy, like Ginny, was someone she’d no doubt interact with when she was on the other side of this assignment.

Holding her tongue for now seemed less complicated in the long run. She’d just as soon meet most people later, as Officer Eden Brixton, rather than have half the town thinking she was one thing and then later learning the truth. Many might feel betrayed by the deception, even if it was perpetrated for the greater good of the entire community. People like Junior and Lou Ann, for example, might not be so happy to share a table with her at Rawley’s. The rest of the women’s conversation faded to background noise as an unaccountable loneliness swept over her. Bluelick was her new home, but she couldn’t make any real connections yet. Only phony ones, with the exception of Shaun, Ginny…and Swain. Was that why she’d gone from barely tolerating him to sleeping with him in record time? Absently, she rubbed the heel of her hand over the center of her chest, where something cold and sharp had developed a habit of sticking at random moments.

Not just sleeping with him, she silently acknowledged. That physical event could be attributed to anything—a moment of madness or weakness or just plain horniness. Sex, no matter how great, didn’t account for how much she enjoyed him even when they weren’t going at each other like participants in an X-rated Olympics. It didn’t account for how much fun she had with him—even arguing with him. It sure as hell didn’t account for the way her insides did a little leap when he walked into a room. It didn’t account for how connected she felt to him.

You let him in. Or you let down your guard, and he snuck in.

But how much of their connection was phony, just like their engagement?

Ginny’s approach wrested her away from the pointless musings. She didn’t know the answers to the questions, and she wasn’t sure she wanted them, anyway.

“Hey, Eden. Sorry I ran over a bit.”

“No problem.” She put the magazine on the workstation and faced the smiling proprietress in the mirror as the redhead draped a cape over her. “Was that Roxy?”

“Yes.” Her smile wavered. “Pardon my poor manners. I’m so used to everyone knowing everyone around here. I should have introduced you.”

“No,” Eden rushed to reassure her. They could speak freely in the empty salon. “Honestly, I appreciate the oversight. I guess I’m hoping to fly under most peoples’ radar until…after.”

Ginny nodded while assessing Eden’s hair, fluffing her hands through the length. Compassionate green eyes met hers in the mirror. “Are you worried about the fallout, once the investigation ends?”

She shouldn’t be. She had a job to do. A job she felt strongly about, with a purpose she believed in. But still… “Fooling criminals is one thing. Fooling innocent people who simply want to be friendly to a newcomer is something else entirely. I don’t want to start off on a false foot with someone wherever I can avoid it. People like Junior and Lou Ann have been nothing but nice. I’m sure they’re going to feel really used when everything comes to light.”

The other woman laughed. “Buy ’em a round. They’ll get over it. Trust me. I’ve known them both all my life.” She selected a wide-toothed comb and began running it through Eden’s hair. “I’m not saying when the news breaks, you won’t be the subject of some stares and whispers, but not of the mean sort. We’re not a crime hotbed by any stretch, but Bluelick’s had its battles with lawlessness over the years. I think most people will be fascinated and appreciative that the County Sheriff’s Department and the Bluelick Police Department were able to run a successful covert investigation right under their noses.”

“I hope so. I still have to live and work in this town when it’s all over. Still wish to, anyway.” She huffed out a breath, impatient with herself. “Poor me. I don’t want to be the kid in the cafeteria who nobody will sit with.”

Ginny put the comb down and rested her hands along Eden’s shoulders. “Shaun and I will sit with you, sugar. The rest of the department will sit with you. Lots of other people, too, once the hubbub dies down. Have a little faith.”