Skinny Dipping Season (13 page)

He inched closer, trapping me against the side of my car. The night air tangled with him and his indescribable musk, assaulting my senses. I could make a million if I bottled that cologne. He was so close that for a minute I thought he was going to kiss me. I leaned forward and parted my lips. But he sniffed the air near my face and reached around to open my car door instead.

“That doesn't smell like cheap wine this time,” he said.

He inched closer and I backed away, sitting hard in the driver's seat. I grabbed the door frame. “I barely drank . . . I didn't even finish my first margarita!”

He smiled. “Margaritas now? You
are
going upscale. Next it will be mint juleps.”

“I suppose you want to Breathalyze me.”

“I never said you were—”

“I'll prove it.”

He shrugged. “Okay. But first, I want to put my rain boots on. These were a pain to clean last time.” He started walking toward his SUV, parked about ten yards behind me—where I should have noticed it a moment ago.

“You arrogant . . . prig!” I wanted to call him worse, but what came out was one of the words I had read just recently in
Count Draculove
.

“Prig?” he mocked over his shoulder. “Is that what you strippers call us?”

“That wasn't stripping!”

He laughed and yelled, “What was it, ballet lessons? Wait. Let me guess—
Swan Lake
, right?”

He thought he was so smart. I would show him just how wrong he could be. I jumped out of the car and ran as fast as I could on my wobbling high heels. I only tripped once and managed to reach J. D. just as he was turning around with the Breathalyzer in his hand. Grabbing the device, I pushed the
on
button and waited for the device to be ready.

Once he recovered from the surprise of me grabbing the Breathalyzer from him, he raised his eyebrow and said, “You certainly know what you're doing.”

“Of course, party girls like me get stopped all the time!” I wasn't going to explain the demonstrations I had been given when I rode with the Toledo police while training for Students Against Drunk Driving in high school. I wrapped my lips around the straw and blew into it. Then I shoved the meter in J. D.'s face so he could see the .03 that flashed in front of him.

“
Ta-da
, Officer Hard-ass! Go Breathalyze yourself, you bloody bastard!” Another nod to my new favorite reading genre.

Turning back around, I marched to my car and slammed the door. I shoved my key in the ignition. I was going home. Maybe I was a little mad that he hadn't kissed me. But I was also mad that he thought I would drink and drive. I refused to be humiliated by that man anymore. Yanking the car into drive, I stepped on the accelerator and made a U-turn, grazing the high weeds on the other side of the road as I headed back to my cinder-block fortress. I cast a charming smile as the headlights illuminated his dazed face and gave him the royal wave.

Barely thirty seconds later, I spotted the high beams and blinking red lights of his SUV in the rearview mirror.
Now what?
I looked down at the speedometer and realized I was going five miles an hour over the speed limit.

“Are you
kidding me
?” I screamed.

I'd never had a speeding ticket in my life. This was ridiculous. If he wanted to give me a ticket, he was going to have to stop me first.

He edged closer, and I pushed my Honda faster. Good lord. This was just like one of those police chases on TV. At least he hadn't turned on his siren. I spun onto an empty stretch of Crooked Road and kept going. Within seconds he pulled up next to me. I peeked to my left and saw him yelling at me through his open window. Shaking my head, I kept my window closed. He sped up until he was way ahead of me and with one quick move, angled in front of me, cutting me off. But I wasn't going to let him get the best of me. I made a right down a dirt road. Trees loomed in front of me and the road ended. I realized too late that I had turned into an empty lot. Two flashing lights followed behind me. I was cut off.

I slammed on the brakes and hit the steering wheel with my fist. “Damn you, J. D. Hardy!”

Before I knew what I was doing, I was out of the car and running at him. The only clear thought on my mind was the need to slash the permanent smugness right off his face. But he was ready for me. He stepped out of the SUV and caught me as I ran headfirst into him. Lifting me completely off the ground, he shifted and pinned me against the side of his truck. For a moment we just stared at each other, panting. The lights from the cars cast an eerie orange glow in the forest around us.

J. D. lowered his head and kissed me. Or maybe I kissed him. Either way, we ended up tangled in each other and I had no idea who had just bested who. It felt like gasoline on a long, simmering fire.

I wrapped my legs around him as he lifted me off the ground. I could feel the rough texture of his pants as he pressed himself against me and the calluses on his hands as they moved inside my bikini. He kneaded my breasts while my own fingers buried themselves in the thick hair at the back of his head and moved lower to grasp his shoulders. At some point I must have pulled his shirt out of his pants, because my hands ran up and down the muscles on his back while the pressure of him against me brought an involuntary reaction. I couldn't catch my breath, but who the heck cared. There were more important things than breathing. Like being as close to J. D. as I could get.

A distant noise on his radio made me pause. I pulled my head away and searched his eyes. He looked as feverish as I felt. “Aren't you still on duty?” I asked, breathlessly, before I decided it didn't matter at all, and pulled his head back down.

“I just signed out,” he growled a moment later when his lips dipped to my breasts. He searched for the clasp of my bikini top and nuzzled my nipple through the fabric, nipping it with his teeth. I cried out and threw my head backward, barely recognizing myself and the reaction I was having.

Finally, he found the front clasp of my top. He unhooked it and pulled it down. Then he stopped and held my wrists
.
With my legs still wrapped around him, I felt helpless and incredibly turned on. I practically exploded right there.

He ground against me in an exaggerated motion. I liked this new out-of-control version of J. D. But I was afraid he would come to his senses before we were finished.

“Please . . .” I was dying for more, but I didn't know how to ask for it. His lips were back on mine and he moaned. He finally released my arms and I dropped the bikini top behind me. Then he reached down to unbutton my shorts. I helped him and my spastic hands found his zipper. It only took a moment, but it felt like years by the time we removed the rest of our clothes. When we finished, he pulled my legs back up until they were around his hips again. My body throbbed where he touched me and I was a little shocked to realize I would have done anything he asked at that moment, as long as I could keep on feeling so good.

He paused. “Do I need a condom?”

“I'm on the pill,” I managed.

He started to say something. I was afraid he was going to stop. So I grabbed his muscled back and pulled him into me with all my strength.

My body arched at the pleasure of having him inside me. Any hesitation on his part evaporated into the night air. He thrust his hips harder. I gasped and stopped breathing altogether as relief mixed with pleasure pulsed in my veins. And then, something wonderful happened. Praise the fairy godmothers of sex. I finally—finally—had an orgasm.

My mouth opened in a silent scream. My muscles tensed and my world burst open in psychedelic colors.

But J. D. didn't stop. My breath returned and it took a moment before I realized that I was still mercilessly aroused. J. D. continued at a greater pace and my pleasure rose to a new level. Hardly able to believe it was possible, my sensitive center was expanding.

“Oh God . . . J. D.,” I gasped.

“Come . . .” he said in a hoarse voice.

“I—can't. I—” I couldn't believe I could still feel so good.

He buried his head in my neck. “Yes you can . . .”

Somewhere in the back of my mind I registered that it must have taken an act of immense restraint for him to hold out for me to come a second time. That little thought released something inside me. And before we knew it, we were both there.

 

For several minutes, all we could do was catch our breath and cling to each other. No words. Just exhaustion. I became aware of the warm metal against my back and the soft breeze against my bare skin.

J. D. released his hold and eased me to the ground. I clutched his shoulders, not sure if I could stand on my shaking legs. Thankfully, he held me under my arms and rested his head on my neck as our lungs found their rhythm again.

When he was certain I could stand on my own he stepped away, still holding my hand while I bent down to retrieve my clothes. I slipped them on, feeling his wetness between my legs and not caring at all. Once my shorts were buttoned, he straightened himself too.

I shivered. I didn't want him to turn back into the sheriff. I wanted the wild J. D. back. He saw me shudder and he slipped out of the uniform shirt I had managed to unbutton, but not remove, and placed my arms through the armholes. Then, with tenderness, he closed the shirt and buttoned it.

“Do I get to play sheriff now?” I teased.

He lowered his mouth and nipped me in the neck. “Only if I get to use the handcuffs when we get back to my place.” His voice was like molasses.

“Does that mean there's more?”

“Oh, yeah,” he whispered gruffly into my ear.

I smiled and then thought of something.

“Good lord! Anyone could have come down the road and we would have been clueless.”

“But they didn't,” he said softly. “Can I trust you to drive to my house?”

“Only if you don't put on the cherry-top lights again. . . .”

“I thought that might get you excited,” he said.

I couldn't wipe the smile off my face as he escorted me to my car. He kissed me on the tip of my nose before pulling the seat belt across my chest, purposefully caressing my breast as he did so. When he shut the door I released a long, satisfying breath and lowered my forehead to the steering wheel.

If I had known pole dancing could be that great, I would have done it years ago.

 

A distant, haunting call of a loon woke me. For a moment I was afraid to open my eyes in case I had dreamed it all. But the slow breathing and warmth of J. D.'s arm across my waist confirmed that this was no dream. The clock next to J. D.'s bed read 2:00
AM
.

When we had reached his house we had made love again, barely able to make it to the bed before falling on each other like teenagers. J. D. made the miracle happen again for a third amazing time. Afterward we fell asleep, tangled together like one of my bracelets.

I had been given a new and very special gift: the knowledge that maybe, just maybe, my disastrous sex life with Colin hadn't been my fault. I held it close and savored the revelation that I was not so inadequate after all.

Things couldn't have been any more different with J. D. I didn't run lists in my head marking off things I needed to do to make sex better. There had been no desperate effort to please. But J. D. had been pleased, all right. No doubt there.

I traced a line down his shoulder with my fingertips, careful not to wake him. He was smiling in his sleep. For the first time I saw . . . what? Peace, I think. Yes. Definitely peace. Earlier tonight I had seen something else. Desire. I must have had the same desperate, wild-eyed hunger on my face. When I launched myself against him on the road I hadn't considered my actions at all. And it had been the most natural thing I had done in a long time.

But what now?

What was he going to say when he woke up in the morning and remembered what he'd done? Things had a way of taking on a different perspective in the light of day. My mouth went dry at the thought that he might regret our night together.

I peeled J. D.'s arm away from my waist and shifted my weight off the mattress, trying not to wake him. My feet touched the hardwood floor and I reached for his shirt at the foot of the bed and pulled it on.

I made my way toward the kitchen, remembering where it was from the last time I had been inside J. D.'s house. Once there, I ran my hands along the wall, looking for a light switch. I finally located one by the sink and squinted at the brightness. I found the cabinet where J. D. kept his glasses and a moment later I let the cool water soothe my throat. I refilled the glass and leaned to the side.

I wish I hadn't woken up. Now, everything began to churn in my head. Was I making a mistake? My last and only sexual relationship had turned out to be a sham. Half the people in Toledo thought I was a drug-addicted mess. My family wanted nothing more than for me to disappear.

But since I arrived in Truhart, a little bit of hope was settling in. The man lying in the next room and the people of Truhart were becoming important to me. Maybe there was a place for me in this small town.

But what if I let them down too? Maybe that wasn't possible.

J. D. thought I was a little crazy already. And the ladies seemed to like me even when I wasn't trying. So my wild behavior should be like an insurance policy. They knew the consequences of getting involved with me. Then why did I feel so scared?

I set the glass down and my hand brushed a pile of papers on the counter. I straightened them and that was when I saw it. My hand stilled as I blinked at the familiar image.