Moving_Violations (13 page)

Another orgasm shook her and she sobbed his name. Jackson’s head fell back with a roar as his climax ripped through him. His body spasmed, filling her with each jet of his ejaculation, her greedy body milking every drop from him.

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Chapter Thirteen

Rebecca awoke with a smile on her face. She stretched languidly, kicking the covers from her naked body without any modesty whatsoever. Her muscles ached, but it was a good ache. A nice hot shower would loosen them up. She curled her toes and sighed.

Sex had never been this good, this fun. She felt like an overindulged feline and nearly purred with smug satisfaction. Opening one eye she noticed the time on the clock and pouted. The cool sheets felt so good, but Jackson apparently had already left and she had less than an hour to get showered, dressed and be at the station ready to face whatever those two idiots decided to throw at her today.

She rolled onto her back and brushed the hair out of her face. The other hand she lay on her stomach. Jackson…the thought of him had her body humming. She closing her eyes and breathed deeply. What was she going to do about this sheriff? Her fingers trailed lightly between the valley of her breasts. She would have to talk to him; they had to cool off some if they were going to continue working together.

“Now see, that image is gonna haunt me all day long.” Rebecca sat straight up and scowled. Jackson stood leaning against the doorframe with a wicked glint in his eye. He grinned and walked toward her, his voice was low and seductive. “Sorry, sugar, didn’t mean to startle ya.” He sat at the end of the bed and lifted one of her feet to rest against his shoulder and gently began massaging her calf.

“I thought you had left already.” Her voice sounded breathy, her eyes fluttered closed as his hands moved higher, kneading the tight muscles there. He lifted her foot and she felt his teeth graze over the arch. Her breath caught in her throat as the sensation spiraled up and throughout her body. “You know we have to be at work, right?” she croaked softly.

He chuckled, that low sexy rumble. Was everything about this man hot? “I do, you have the morning off to rest. “

Watching him, Rebecca decided, who needed rest? He was tempting dressed in those low-slung jeans and beige button down shirt. His sleeves were rolled up again, revealing his tight, tan skin over thick-corded muscles. She wanted him naked, covering her; she wanted that mouth all over her body again. Her vaginal walls clenched at the thought, the slick sliding between her thighs only added to her need. She couldn’t get enough of him. Rebecca lifted a single brow and gave him a sly hungry smile. “I’m rested.”

“Temptress,” he growled at her and she nearly shivered. He moved over her and she reached up and ran her fingers through his shower-dampened hair. His hand cupped her breast. The heat of his palm, the roughness, sent delightful shivers racing over her skin. Her nipples contracted achingly for more attention and he obliged them, rubbing his thumb across their hardened peaks as he kissed her, swallowing her moan, his tongue playing with hers. He broke away too soon and nipped at her full bottom lip 65

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then licked it before moving away from her. “Gotta run, sugar.” Jackson’s voice was husky and she thought he growled when he bent and nibbled then kissed her shoulder.

She moaned seductively, watching Jackson’s strong handsome face. His lids were lowered and with her free hand she cupped the growing bulge in his jeans. “Be late.”

Her hand moved over the outline of his thick shaft that pressed against the rough material.

His hand closed over hers as she started to unzip his pants. “Becca baby, you’re killin’ me.” He cupped her cheek and kissed her. “I’d love nothing better than to stay in bed all day with you.” He whispered. “But, I gotta go to work.” He kissed her mouth once more then her nose. “You however, don’t come in till one thirty.”

“No, I’m scheduled for the eight to five shift,” she said. Her obviously ignored pretend pout gave way to a frown. “I’m fine, I can do my job.”

He moved away from her to the dresser, picked up his wallet and his gun. “I think you need to take the morning off, especially since you didn’t go to the doctor and you’ve had a long…” He gave her a lascivious once over. “…eventful night.”

Her eyes narrowed, “No more eventful than it was for you, Sheriff. Maybe you should take the morning off. I’m fine, I ‘m fit and ready to rock and roll.”

“Becca, don’t argue with me on this. I have some business with the mayor this morning or you would have already tempted me to slack down on my responsibilities.”

She sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed. “I’m going to work.”

“No, sugar, you’re not. Now, you can either come in later or you can take the entire day off.” He paused, meeting her gaze. She saw the resolve in those stubborn gray eyes and sighed, her shoulders slumped. “So you’re coming in at one thirty. Hey, why don’t you bring lunch by early…say eleven thirty or twelve? We’ll have lunch in my office.”

He waggled his brows at her.

“Ah, no, I don’t think that’s a good idea. Look, Jackson, this…thing we’ve got going on needs to be kept private, for your sake and mine.” He just looked at her and it unnerved her. He could not carry on his demonstrative affection for her at work. It would humiliate her, and it would ruin what tiny shred of respect she had earned from the other officers. “No really, Jackson. None of this.” She waved her hand across an invisible line running between them. “Not at work.”

He tilted his head to the side then to the other, “Alright, babe, we’ll keep it a secret.”

He leaned over and kissed her hard and quick. “I put the coffee in a thermos so it’ll be hot. Lie back down and get some rest. I’ll see you at lunch.” He turned to leave and, stopping with one hand on the doorframe, turned half way around. “Becca, I’ll be thinking about you back here. Naked, hot, wet and those pretty pink boobs of yours with those sweet berries on top…” His eyes glanced over her body. “ Mmm, God help me.” He shook his head and left.

Rebecca couldn’t go back to sleep, her body was too tense, wound up, hot. Damn him, she would pay him back for leaving her like this. A crooked smile curved her lips, and oh, how she would enjoy it. She stood and stretched again then walked to the bathroom and turned on the shower. She turned to the mirror and the woman smirking back at her looked positively wanton. Her cheeks were pink except for the ugly yellowish purple bruise fading over her right cheekbone. Her hair was a cloud of 66

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tangles. She licked her swollen lips; her heavy lidded eyes were those of a woman with secrets…sexy, sinful secrets.

* * * * *

Jackson was feeling fine. Stepping out of his cruiser into the heat of a Tennessee summer, he inhaled deeply and fought the smile trying to tilt his lips. Today was a meeting with the mayor, the man delighted in spoiling a good mood. Perhaps it was best not to let Whittaker know just how good his mood was.

“Afternoon, Jack,” Margie Ferguson greeted him as he entered the mayor’s outer office. “You look fine this morning. What has you so chipper?”

Damn, he wasn’t pulling off somber as well as he used to. Margie was a bleached blonde, forty-something soccer mom with delusions of regaining her high school days.

She wore the makeup heavy—especially the bronze blush, blue eye shadow and mascara—and she had thick, heavily permed hair. She was a good woman though, and damned near always had a smile for everyone. How she put up with Mayor Whittaker’s sour attitude Jackson had never figured out.

“Morning, Margie, you’re fine yourself. How’s the mayor’s mood this morning?” he asked her in a near whisper, smiling down at her slow and easy.

She rolled her eyes at the question.

“Figures.” He grimaced, pretending to shudder. “Is he ready for me, or do I need to cool my heels a little longer?”

“He’s ready, but he has company.” She glanced toward the office to be certain of privacy. “Some slicked up city boy out of Detroit. Didn’t we just get a new officer from there?” she frowned questioningly.

“Yep, we sure did.” Jackson kept his expression bland. “So do I just go in or wait on my summons?”

Margie fought her snicker and lost.

“Go on in, you gorgeous thing.” She waved to the door. “Just knock first. He yelled at his daughter for ten minutes for not knocking first.”

Jackson shook his head. He strode to the door and rapped on the wood panel, perhaps a bit hard, as he concealed his smile.

“What?” Whittaker barked, obviously startled by the sound.

Hiding his smile, Jackson opened the door and stepped in. He kept his expression casual as he faced the mayor’s curiously smug expression, and the oily superiority of the man with him.

The man was a pretty boy, there was no doubt about it. With his thick, sandy blonde hair just a bit long and brushed perfectly back from his long, arrogant face, thick light lashes and baby face, he likely turned a few female heads. He was built along the lines of a body builder rather than a man who actually put himself out to work, and carried himself like a reigning prince.

“Jackson, this is Todd Lawrence,” the mayor introduced with the same officious pride of a man showing off his particular bright boy. “Todd, this is Sheriff 67

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Montgomery.” Jackson assumed he himself was the dumb son if the distaste on the mayor’s face was anything to go by.

“Lawrence.” Jackson nodded as the man stood silently beside the mayor’s desk.

Hell, he wasn’t about to offer to shake that snake-faced bastard’s hand. They were staring at him like he just crawled out from under some slime rock.

“Todd’s in from Detroit, here to see a friend of his. He stopped by here after he learned some disturbing news when he stopped by your office.” Whittaker frowned in obvious disapproval. He would have pulled it off, too, if Jackson didn’t see the smug sneer lurking in his expression.

“And that was?” Jackson arched a brow as he tucked his hands in his jeans pockets and regarded the newcomer.

“Seems there’s some question of sexual impropriety in your office with that new deputy of yours we hired.” Whittaker crossed his hands on top of his desk and assumed his most pious expression. “This is greatly disturbin’ to me, Jackson.”

“Me too.” Jackson lifted his brows. First he had heard of it. “Who’s being sexually improper?”

“Lawrence heard tell it was you, with that pretty little deputy you threw such a fit over. Sexual harassment is a might dirty way for a man to play because he disagrees with that little gal in his office.”

Jackson didn’t bother to hide his surprise.

“Just whom did Lawrence talk to?” Jackson asked darkly. “I assume I’m allowed to know.”

Lawrence stepped forward. “I heard the rumors and I talked to Rebecca myself not three hours before. She’s very upset over this, Montgomery.”

Now Jackson was hard pressed to hide his incredulity. He knew that was a damned lie, not three hours ago Miss Ree-Becca was all curled up next to him, warm and comfy.

“You will, of course, not harass Miss Taylor by questioning her over this. We want to minimize her embarrassment.” Mayor Whittaker frowned at him heavily.

Jackson watched them both carefully.

“I think a resignation would be in order at least, Mayor,” Lawrence suggested.

“Rebecca has been through enough, so I don’t think we should bring her into this—”

“Oh, I think maybe we should.” Jackson stiffened his shoulders. He gave Whittaker a hard look. “I don’t know what they hell you’re up to here, Whittaker, but you didn’t put me in that office, and you can’t take me out. And I’ll be damned if you’ll run me out of it on some trumped up charge. Let’s call Officer Taylor in here and see what she has to say.” Especially considering he knew damned well they hadn’t talked to her.

“Rebecca of course wants to cause no waves. She assures me she will press no charges if you leave quietly—”

“Mayor, do I look like a dumb redneck to you?” Jackson asked him coldly, staring into the man’s surprised face. “Let me assure you, I’m not. And I doubt very much Officer Taylor told you shit. But I’ll be more than happy to ask her about it first opportunity. “

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Lawrence and the mayor exchanged a telling look. Of course they didn’t want him checking into this.

“There’s no need to be so profane,” Whittaker objected with acute distaste.

“There’s no need to be a liar either, but someone in this room is, and I assure you it’s not me.” He gave Lawrence a chilling stare. “Now you two better get your stories straight and stop playing footsie here. I know damned good and well you haven’t talked to Rebecca, because Rebecca’s not one to bald faced lie. So I’d like to know what the hell is going on here.”

“Lawrence?” The mayor was obviously uncertain how to proceed.

“Perhaps I haven’t spoken to Rebecca,” he bit out. “But I have spoken to your officers, Montgomery, and I know how you’ve harassed—”

Jackson turned on his heel and stalked to the door.

“Montgomery, you have not been given leave to walk from this office.” The mayor’s voice rose in anger.

Jackson gripped the doorknob, glancing back at them, anger churning in his stomach now—anger and a suspicion that ate at his sense of pride in his job.

“I don’t need leave,” he said, his voice harsh. “I don’t know what the hell’s going on here, but I intend to find out, you can bet on that. You want my job so damned bad.” He sneered at Lawrence. “Then come and take it, if you can.”

He jerked the door open, and then slammed it as he stalked out. Son of a bitch. He ignored Margie’s look of shock as his boot heels thundered across the hardwood floor and the outer office door was given the same treatment as that of the mayor’s.

He knew Whittaker had been trying to get him out of office ever since he took the position, but he hadn’t expected this. This one had been more than a surprise. That the man would come at him with lies shocked him. On the other hand, his fists clenched, if his relationship with Becca hadn’t progressed, then he would have likely been more than willing to believe it. His cynicism in most cases was well known.