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her wetter than she had been before. She knew Archer could tell because

he enthusiastically lapped up the excess flow of her juices.

Bless him.

As he lapped at her sex, she lifted up onto her elbows and studied

his cock. It was nearly perfect, with just a slight curve to the right. His well-defined head was engorged with blood, fairly begging for her

mouth. Miranda grasped him by the base of his dick as she closed her

mouth over the head of his cock. She desperately tried to concentrate on him, rather than her own pleasure, pulling out every trick in her book.

Although it was difficult to focus through the multiple orgasms he

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gave her, Miranda managed to get him to the point that his thighs were

shaking and his abdomen contracting against her breasts. She thrilled to know that he was about to orgasm and wrapped her arms around his

thighs to ride it out. Archer uttered a warning groan even while he

continued to flick his tongue across her clit.

With a wild roar, he spurted a powerful jet of come into her mouth.

The taste and texture of his ejaculation along with the relentless tonguing of her clit battered her senses and forced her own jubilant climax.

They slowly descended from the heights of their wild and

impassioned oral sex. Although they had brought each other to the brink

of ecstasy, neither was satisfied.

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D'ARC, GALE, KENT, MARCH

Chapter Four

Matt was beyond words. He had been intent on satisfying her needs,

yet this woman had unselfishly given him the same level of pleasure. Her actions were brazen, yet invigorating. He could not recall a time when a woman hadn't taken whatever she could from him without offering

anything in return.

He couldn't put a finger on it, but their odd connection felt more real

than any of his previous relationships. It was as if she alone had the

ability to see through the wall he had built around himself. Needless to say, his reality appeared slightly off kilter lately. He wasn't complaining in the slightest, especially when Miranda felt so right in his arms.

Her chest pressed tightly against him and he couldn't resist kissing

her delicate lips again. This time he wanted it to be gentle to make up for his earlier rough handling. Matt cupped her face in his callused palms

and recaptured her lips, parting them with his tongue to further explore the sweetness within.

Their tongues danced to the rhythm of their beating hearts and she

wrapped her arms around his neck, opening herself up to a deeper kiss.

He encircled her waist with his hands and rolled around, taking her with him until he was on top. His body nestled between the vee of her thighs.

When he finally tore his lips away, she let out a soft sigh of contentment.

He smiled in satisfaction at her swollen lips and couldn't resist planting a quick kiss on the tip of her nose.

Matt Archer had done a lot of wild and crazy things in his time, but

never anything as spontaneous as rolling on a stack of freshly printed

counterfeit bills with a luscious Gypsy.

His throaty laughter echoed through the dim room. "That was…"

"Illegal? Compromising?" Miranda suggested with a quirk of her brow.

"I was going to say intense."

"Intense, huh?" She smiled mysteriously. "I'll show you intense."

The feel of her swelling breasts against his chest hardened his cock.

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He was ready for her again and she knew it. Miranda lifted onto her

knees and easily slid onto him with a sigh of perfect bliss. He sucked in his breath, surprised by her take-charge performance, but loving every

ounce of it. Matt grabbed her ass, guiding her as she pumped up and

down on his turgid shaft.

Matt loved the way her breasts bounced, adored the rapturous

expression on her face as she rode him with enthusiasm. His body lit up

like a torch. The heat consumed him, burning higher and higher, flames

rising and licked by Miranda's sensual yet provocative dance. He had

never had a woman spring alive during lovemaking like this. She

captured him in a spell so profound he grew lost in the cocoon of her

earthy charms.

Her movements increased, faster and faster until he almost believed

his soul had descended his body. Their frantic lovemaking created a

bizarre sensation that bonded her to him as if their separate heartbeats had merged as one. He could not explain the sudden unity, the feel of

blood rushing through his veins as his cock stretched to the limit.

He knew they were on the verge and he wanted the feeling to last as

long as he could hold out. With the pressure mounting, Miranda clenched

her pussy tight around his shaft and all thoughts of control dissipated.

His walls crumbled from the multitude of sensations she awakened in

him. Matt allowed himself to let go, enjoying the waves after waves of

ecstasy that washed through him until the storm subsided into a quiet

lull. Matt trembled from the revelation that this sexual encounter

resembled a dream. One he shared with a sex goddess who had brought

the mystical light of the moon into this darkened room.

* * * *

The uncomfortable silence was killing him.

Matt Archer wasn't one to crave more than a one-night stand, but

hell if he didn't feel like wanting more of Miranda. Truth be told, a quick tumble based on mutual attraction wasn't going to satisfy him. Not with

someone as insatiable and daring as Miss Gypsy.

He turned to glance over at Miranda and his insides knotted up.

Her soft features radiated beneath the moonlight. Her silky strands

flowed behind her back and spilled over her shoulders like a Botticelli

painting.
The Birth of Venus
in all her magnificent glory. Emblazoned in his soul was the image of Miranda's nude radiance touching, kissing, and riding him to a fevered ecstasy. Looking at her now, this vision seemed

to be in total contrast with the cold woman she had become moments

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D'ARC, GALE, KENT, MARCH

after their heated lovemaking.

It was as if someone had flipped off a switch, transforming her into

this matter-of-fact person who was quick to dress and even quicker to

pretend that the whole sexual episode never happened.
As if the act is a
trivial kind of research!

Damn right it hurt his ego. He'd be lying if he thought otherwise.

Matt let out a frustrated breath. Maybe the heavens were finally giving

him a taste of his own medicine for all those years of having that love-

'em-and-leave-'em attitude.

Served him right. How many rules had he broken tonight? He

couldn't easily count them and the fact that he was willing to compromise his duties for sex put him in a terrible position. This behavior wasn't like him at all. He wasn't sure who or what was to blame for his temporary

madness but he didn't like it one bit.

"Y…you want to come in?" The softness in Miranda's voice sliced through the silence.

A pang of guilt tugged at him and he determined it was best to make

his escape while he had the ability to do it. "It's late and I want to fax the evidence to headquarters."

Her expression said it all. She had misinterpreted his words. Damn

it, if he stuck around any longer he wouldn't be able to keep himself from making it up to her.

Get the hell outta there, Archer.

The proof was safely in his hands and she obviously had given him

an easy way out, so why did the idea of leaving feel so wrong?

Aw, hell. Miranda was the most liberating lover he had been with in

ages! She was as giving as she was eager to receive, and that was the

biggest turn-on for him. Her lack of inhibitions had been exhilarating—a change from the quick and predictable relationships he'd had before.

The chilly evening walk to Miranda's front door had been awkward.

He wasn't sure whether he should hold her hand or wrap his arms around

her to keep her warm. His palm was sweaty during his indecision and he

found himself feeling like an adolescent pining away for a secret crush.

"Well, I guess this is it, then." She stuck out her hand and he wanted to laugh at the absurdity. Hadn't they just had mind-blowing sex not

more than an hour ago and here she acted as if they were virtual

strangers.

Matt smirked but accepted her hand. "Fuck it," he muttered and pulled her to him. He planted a kiss on the lips he'd been craving since 262

FORTUNE'S FOOL

they left the store. If he was going to walk out of her life he'd be damn sure to get one good kiss.

He released Miranda and watched her sway unsteadily as she

stepped back.

"I'll see you around," Matt mumbled gruffly. He turned to leave when she halted him with a question that ruined the
Casablanca
moment.

"Wait. What about Edith?"

Matt whipped around to glare at her. "Screw Edith. She's as guilty

as her illegal counterparts."

Miranda's lips jutted out defiantly. "I think you're jumping the gun there, Archer. She's a sweet old lady who couldn't possibly be involved."

He frowned at her stubborn demeanor. "Don't get any ideas in that

pretty little head of yours. It's my job to clean up the criminals around here so I don't want you back at that shop. You hear me?" He hoped his intimidating voice would get through to her.

"I hear you loud and clear, you arrogant ass!" she spat before whipping around, stepping into her apartment, and slamming the door in

his face.

Matt Archer stared at the paint-chipped door and realized in that

moment there was no better match for him than Miranda. After all, he

loved a good challenge.

* * * *

"How dare he!" Miranda grumbled to herself as she stalked through the park on her way to work the next day. "'Screw Edith?' How about

'Screw you, Archer?'"

The parade of hardened criminals, con-men, and tricksters must

have done a number on his ability to trust people over the years. How

could that kindly old grandmother possibly be in on the scam? No way.

Sure, she might bilk the gullible out of a few bucks for her "psychic visions," but maybe she was actually psychic. And there was a world of difference between the
Psychic Friends Network
and a counterfeiting ring.If she ever got it, Miranda would stake her next advance on the guilt of Edith's sons. The old woman was just a victim in their shady dealings.

And if Archer wouldn't be there for the people he had supposedly sworn

to protect, well then, Miranda would.

Fidelity, bravery, and integrity, my ass!

The doorbell jangled as Miranda entered Farra's. She stomped out

the cold on the mat just inside the door but stopped when she realized

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D'ARC, GALE, KENT, MARCH

how eerily quiet it was. She shivered, giving herself a little pep talk. All she had to do was let Edith know what kind of shit her kids had gotten

into, then jet.

And maybe join the Witness Protection Program.

"Miranda, dear? Is that you?" Edith called from the back room.

"Yep."

"Can you come here? I got a new shipment but I'm having trouble

lifting it."

Miranda agreed wholeheartedly.
That back room is nothing but

trouble.

She sighed. "Let's get this over with."

Miranda pushed aside the curtain to the back room and took a breath

to start her prepared speech. She managed to say, "Edith, I think you may be caught up in something pretty bad," before she saw stars and the world went black.

* * * *

When Miranda awoke, she groaned at the realization that her hands

were once more bound together in the dank back room of Farra's

Fortunes. This time, it wouldn't be sexy. It would be just plain scary.

"I'm so sorry, dear," Edith whispered. "They made me call you in here." Through a no-doubt concussive haze, Miranda saw that Edith was bound to a chair right beside her.

"Who?" she hissed. Better not to let on too much, especially at first.

"My good-for-nothing progeny. They're no sons of mine anymore,"

Edith moaned dolefully.

"I was just coming to tell you that they—"

"Are counterfeiters?" Edith smiled wistfully. "I gathered that some time ago. I tried to get them to stop, but they wouldn't listen. And a

mother doesn't turn her own sons over to the Feds. What was I to do?"

Miranda opened her mouth, but closed it again quickly. There was

no polite response to that.

"And now they've caught one of those Feds snooping around here

and they think it's my fault. And yours." Edith sighed and closed her eyes.

Miranda gasped. "Caught a Fed? Where?"

"He's tied up in the alley Dumpster right now." Edith shook her head at the depths to which her sons would sink.

"And if he makes a move, Rodney'll put a bullet in him." The man who had caught Archer and her last night didn't look so dopey anymore.

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"So if you don't start talking, Loverboy and Mama are gonna get it."

Edith narrowly eyed the man as if he was far beneath her, as if she

despised her own flesh and blood.

I guess I would, too, if I was Mom to the Mob.

Miranda gave him a sullen face of her own and looked down, taking

a moment to think out a strategy for the situation. Although she was not sure how many sons Edith had exactly, Miranda was fairly certain that

only two of them were around at the moment. And if one was on Archer,

she should be able to immobilize this guy long enough for it to distract Rodney.

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