was half a county away from the watchful eyes of Dane's conservative constituents. They never ran afoul of each other in the court system. They never bored each other with small talk or phony sentiment. They gave each other good, honest, mutually satisfying sex with none of the usual cumbersome emotional baggage attached.
“Oh, Dane, please,” she whispered in the breathless voice she used when she wanted something
really
badly.
“In a hurry tonight?” he murmured dryly.
“Just hungry,” she said, licking her lips. “The Baylor case starts tomorrow.”
A slow smile spread across Dane's mouth. Ann was never better in bed than the night before the start of a big case. The adrenaline, he knew, was for her job, for the excitement of the battle, not for him. But he benefitted just the same.
“How do you want it?” he whispered against her lips, easing himself just barely inside her.
“Hard and fast,” she gasped, her eyes glittering with reckless excitement as she stared up at him. “Really hard.”
Dane groaned as he settled his mouth over hers. He was in for one hell of an evening.
Ann was as hot and unrestrained in bed as she was cool and reserved in her professional world. The contrast never failed to give Dane a little extra rush when he was inside her. When he wasn't, it only made him acutely aware that she was a consummate actress and a hypocrite, playing whatever role she needed to play to get what she wanted. Typical woman. But at the moment he didn't give a damn. He heaved against her one final time and came in a hot rush of satisfaction.
The satisfaction would be short-lived. It always was. There was that burst, that instant when his body reached its climax, that was sweet and good, but it always fell short of what some other part of him wanted. He would be physically sated. Ann never failed him that way. His body never failed him that way. And he told himself that was all he wanted—the physical release. But as he eased himself down on top of her, he couldn't quite escape the faint hollow feeling in his gut. In that single unguarded moment when a man was at his weakest, he couldn't quite deny the need. He wouldn't name it, wouldn't make a move to do anything about it, wouldn't see it as anything other than a weakness, but he couldn't deny it was there.
“You screw good for a country boy.” Ann's voice, still breathless in the afterglow, cut through Dane's moment of introspection like a razor.
He flashed her a grin that was just short of being cold. “Aw, shucks, ma'am, it's all that practice we get on sheep at an early age,” he drawled with biting sarcasm.
Ann gave a throaty chuckle. She enjoyed prodding him about being a hick from the sticks. She knew it hit a nerve. He'd caught the feral gleam of satisfaction in her eyes more than once when a barb had stuck and spiked his temper. He suspected it was a calculated defense, a way of keeping an emotional buffer between them. The buffer he appreciated, the method pissed him off.
“You baaad boy,” she said, snickering.
“Better sheep than city bitches.”
She reached a hand up and stroked his head the way she might pet a favorite dog. “Now, don't get nasty, darling.”
“I thought that was what we came here for.”
She laughed again. Her perfectly manicured fingers skated down Dane's back to his buttocks. She squeezed his ass and arched up beneath him, her body tightening around his cock, enticing him to hardness again.
“That's right, Sheriff Jantzen,” Ann murmured, her eyelids drooping to half-mast as she savored the sensation of him swelling inside her. “So let's get down to business.”
Dane moved against her, his eyes narrowed, mouth set in a grim line. No, he didn't like Ann Markham much, but he liked what she did for him. She kept him sexually appeased and emotionally on guard, and that, he insisted, was all he really wanted from any woman.
On the chrome-and-glass stand beside the bed a pager went
“Oh, Dane, please,” she whispered in the breathless voice she used when she wanted something
really
badly.
“In a hurry tonight?” he murmured dryly.
“Just hungry,” she said, licking her lips. “The Baylor case starts tomorrow.”
A slow smile spread across Dane's mouth. Ann was never better in bed than the night before the start of a big case. The adrenaline, he knew, was for her job, for the excitement of the battle, not for him. But he benefitted just the same.
“How do you want it?” he whispered against her lips, easing himself just barely inside her.
“Hard and fast,” she gasped, her eyes glittering with reckless excitement as she stared up at him. “Really hard.”
Dane groaned as he settled his mouth over hers. He was in for one hell of an evening.
Ann was as hot and unrestrained in bed as she was cool and reserved in her professional world. The contrast never failed to give Dane a little extra rush when he was inside her. When he wasn't, it only made him acutely aware that she was a consummate actress and a hypocrite, playing whatever role she needed to play to get what she wanted. Typical woman. But at the moment he didn't give a damn. He heaved against her one final time and came in a hot rush of satisfaction.
The satisfaction would be short-lived. It always was. There was that burst, that instant when his body reached its climax, that was sweet and good, but it always fell short of what some other part of him wanted. He would be physically sated. Ann never failed him that way. His body never failed him that way. And he told himself that was all he wanted—the physical release. But as he eased himself down on top of her, he couldn't quite escape the faint hollow feeling in his gut. In that single unguarded moment when a man was at his weakest, he couldn't quite deny the need. He wouldn't name it, wouldn't make a move to do anything about it, wouldn't see it as anything other than a weakness, but he couldn't deny it was there.
“You screw good for a country boy.” Ann's voice, still breathless in the afterglow, cut through Dane's moment of introspection like a razor.
He flashed her a grin that was just short of being cold. “Aw, shucks, ma'am, it's all that practice we get on sheep at an early age,” he drawled with biting sarcasm.
Ann gave a throaty chuckle. She enjoyed prodding him about being a hick from the sticks. She knew it hit a nerve. He'd caught the feral gleam of satisfaction in her eyes more than once when a barb had stuck and spiked his temper. He suspected it was a calculated defense, a way of keeping an emotional buffer between them. The buffer he appreciated, the method pissed him off.
“You baaad boy,” she said, snickering.
“Better sheep than city bitches.”
She reached a hand up and stroked his head the way she might pet a favorite dog. “Now, don't get nasty, darling.”
“I thought that was what we came here for.”
She laughed again. Her perfectly manicured fingers skated down Dane's back to his buttocks. She squeezed his ass and arched up beneath him, her body tightening around his cock, enticing him to hardness again.
“That's right, Sheriff Jantzen,” Ann murmured, her eyelids drooping to half-mast as she savored the sensation of him swelling inside her. “So let's get down to business.”
Dane moved against her, his eyes narrowed, mouth set in a grim line. No, he didn't like Ann Markham much, but he liked what she did for him. She kept him sexually appeased and emotionally on guard, and that, he insisted, was all he really wanted from any woman.
On the chrome-and-glass stand beside the bed a pager went
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