The Bribe (Calamity Montana)

THE MOMENT LUCY pulled me across the threshold, my mouth was on hers. My hands roamed her body as she clung to me, kissing me with as much fervor and raw lust as I had racing through my veins.

Christ, this woman could kiss. Her tongue did this little swirl that sent all the blood rushing straight to my cock.

I kicked the door shut and broke away from her lips long enough to whip her shirt over her head and toss it to the floor.

“Up,” I ordered.

She jumped.

With one arm under her ass and the other around her back, I held her to me as fiercely as she held me, her lips seeking mine as her fingers dove into my hair.

Lucy moaned, angling her head so I could devour her mouth. I nipped and sucked and licked, arching into her center as her legs circled my waist. Her nipples were pebbled beneath her bra, begging for my hot mouth.

The heat from her core spread through her shorts to my jeans and I was seconds from tearing them off her legs. If I didn’t get her to a bed, I’d fuck her on the couch. I’d save that for later.

I tore my lips away again and blinked the haze from my vision as I started for the stairs.

Lucy dropped her mouth to my neck, latching on to my pulse to suck.

“Fuck,” I groaned, picking up my pace. My cock throbbed beneath my jeans and my heart slammed against my sternum. “Where?” I asked at the top stair.

“Left.”

I hit the landing and moved straight for the bedroom door. It was bright inside, the sunlight streaming from the window onto the plush white bed.

Lucy unwound her legs, dropping those bare toes to the carpet, and her hands pounced on the button on my jeans.

“In a hurry?” I teased, reaching behind my neck to yank my T-shirt over my head before kicking off my boots.

“Jeans off, Sheriff.”

Christ, it was sexy when a woman wanted to order me around.

I swatted her hands aside, but instead of stripping my own jeans, I dropped to my knees and worked free the button on her shorts, tugging the denim and the brightest pair of panties I’d ever seen free from her body.

Her skin was like sweet cream, smooth and silky. The sight of her glistening folds made my head spin, and her scent . . . fuck me, she smelled good. Like cherries, sweet and rich, with a hint of warm vanilla.

The smart thing to do would be to slow this down. Savor her. I hadn’t been with a woman in a while, but my body wasn’t listening to any mental commands. Want. Need. Take. The words pulsed through my veins with every heartbeat. But we’d do slow later. There was no doubt in my mind that I’d have her once and need her again, over and over.

Lucy was addictive.

Her fingernails scraped my scalp as she dragged her hands through my hair, tugging and teasing it beside my temples.

I gripped her hips and jerked her to me, earning a little yelp. Then I dropped my mouth to that beautiful, bare pussy, dragging my tongue through her slit and flicking my tongue against her clit.

“Duke.” Her breath hitched.

Her taste exploded on my tongue, cherry sweet. One day, I’d feast on her, let her hold on to my hair as I devoured her, but not today.

I placed a kiss on her belly button, working my way up her stomach and ribs to the center of her breasts. Worshipping. Savoring. When I was back on my feet, I flicked the clasp of her bra and stripped it from her arms.

She stood there, her eyes closed, waiting for my next move.

“You are . . . breathtaking,” I whispered, my fingers trailing down her collarbone to a rosy nipple.

Her lashes fluttered open and the look in her eyes nearly dropped me to my knees. It was vulnerable. Pure and open. No pretenses. No need to stroke egos or fake a reaction.

Lucy’s gaze flicked to my jeans and the straining bulge beneath. Her index finger rose to my chest. Starting with one of my nipples, she trailed across my skin from one pec to the other before letting her finger drop down my sternum.

My abs bunched when she hit the valley between the muscles. She skimmed my stomach and her featherlight touch made the throb spike.

If she kept going, I’d never last. So I moved like lightning, picking her up and tossing her on the bed.

She laughed as she bounced, then sat up on her elbows to watch me strip. My cock bobbed free and a drop of cum beaded at the tip.

She licked her lips.

“Fuck, you’re killing me here.”

“You’re”—she gulped—“big.”

I wrapped a fist around my shaft and stroked.

The flare of heat in her eyes was my invitation into the bed. I came down on her, settling into the cradle of her hips and positioning at her entrance, ready to thrust home, when that fucking good conscience of mine sent a siren blaring in my ear.

“Condom.” Fuck. I didn’t keep them on me because hookups weren’t my style.

“Ugh,” Lucy groaned and slapped a hand over her eyes. “I don’t have one.”

This would be the worst case of blue balls I’d had in my life. I pushed up to get the hell off this bed but she grabbed my bicep and stopped me.

“I’m on the pill. I, um . . . I haven’t been with anyone in a long time.”

“Same. I got my annual physical three months ago. I’m clean.”

She sighed and that sultry smile was back. She opened her legs wider.

“You sure?”

“Fuck me, Duke.”

Okay, she could definitely order me around. I didn’t hesitate. I dragged the head of my cock through her wetness, then slid deep with one stroke.

Lucy gasped, her back arching off the bed as her hands came to my shoulders. Her nails dug in hard as she breathed, adjusting to my size.

I waited, giving her time. “Good?”

She nodded and circled her hips. “So good.”

I grinned and dropped my lips to her neck, peppering her smooth skin with kisses as I eased out, then thrust forward, earning another gasp when I pushed as deep as I could go.

My palm came to one of her luscious breasts, letting it fill the cup of my hand. I ran a thumb over her pink nipple.

She quaked beneath me as I moved, in and out, over and over. A pink flush spread across her chest. Her freckles had darkened from a morning in the sun.

Lucy Ross was magnificent. This Lucy. It was heady—powerful—knowing that I was included in her secret. The rest of the world expected the blond and glitter. But I had black hair spread on white cotton. Eyes like water-clear emeralds.

I dropped a kiss to the corner of her mouth as I drove inside her tight body.

She turned her cheek, taking my mouth. She sucked on my bottom lip before slipping her tongue between my teeth.

We were lost in one another, moving like old lovers, not new. And I moved in steady strokes, taking us both higher and higher until she whimpered, pulling away from my mouth.

Her eyes squeezed shut, her grip on my shoulders fell away, and her body writhed.

“Duke,” she whispered right before she exploded, crying out and shaking in my arms as her inner walls pulsed and clenched around me.

I kept going, faster and faster, until the pleasure was too much. The pressure in my spine hit and I was done. I shot long and hard, collapsing on top of her as my orgasm broke, wringing me dry and leaving me boneless.

I’d expected sex to be good, but this? This was beyond comprehension. The best I’d ever had.

Lucy’s hold on me tightened and she giggled. “Damn.”

I eased out and rolled to the side so she wasn’t bearing all my weight but kept her pinned with our legs tangled and her cheek resting on my chest. I stared at the ceiling until the white spots faded from my vision, then I kissed the top of her head. “How long does it take you to get ready?”

“Usually an hour. Why?”

“Good.” She’d have plenty of time. There was a lot for the two of us to talk about. A lot of shit to figure out, especially now.

Sex with her had changed everything.

I kissed her again, then slid free and climbed out of bed. I tugged on my boxer briefs, then my jeans, covering my still-hard dick.

“Uh . . . where are you going?” Lucy asked, sitting up, completely naked and not trying to cover up.

I didn’t answer as I shrugged on my T-shirt.

“Duke,” she warned.

Damn, but I loved the way she said my name. Smooth and smoky, like expensive whiskey.

“Are you seriously leaving?” Her hair had fallen out of its tie. It was wild and damp as it draped down her shoulders. Her cheeks were flushed and that delicious bottom lip of hers was puffy.

She’d never looked more stunning.

“Yep. Get ready.” I planted a knee in the bed, bent down to kiss the corner of her mouth, then walked to the door. “Be back at seven.”

“Back for what? And what do you mean get ready?”

I kept walking.

“Duke!” The covers rustled and the bed creaked as she hurried to chase me down.

But I was already jogging down the stairs. “Seven o’clock.”

When I started my truck, she appeared on the porch, draped in a white towel she must have snagged from the bathroom. The terry cloth was blinding in the afternoon sun. There was a scowl on her face as she watched me drive away.

I liked that scowl too.

I liked all things about Lucy Ross.

It was a good thing she was hell-bent on staying in Calamity.

Because I wasn’t ready to let her go.

“THIS PLACE IS . . .”

I chuckled as Lucy’s eyes widened. “Interesting?”

“That’s one word.”

“Come on.” I tightened my grip on her hand and led her through Calamity Jane’s bar.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” She ducked her chin as a man passed us by. “I’m trying to keep a low profile here.”

“Trust me.”

She sighed. “Okay.”

No hesitation.

This woman. Things were about to get really fucking complicated.

Maybe they already had.

I spotted an empty booth against the wall and walked over, ignoring the many faces staring our way. I held out an arm to one side of the booth, waiting for her to slide in, then I took my seat opposite her, grinning as she tucked a lock of hair to hide her profile.

“I don’t like this,” she said.

“Been thinking about it. You’ll create more gossip if you hide away at that farmhouse. People in a small town are nosy. They’ll want to know about the gorgeous recluse in Widow Ashleigh’s place.”

“But what if someone recognizes me?”

“They won’t.”

“How do you know?”

“Because right now, they’re more curious about why you’re in here with me than who you are.”

She arched an eyebrow and I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Hiya, Duke.” The waitress appeared at our table, tossing down two cardboard coasters.

“Hey, Kelly.”

“Can I get you guys a drink?” Her eyes wandered to Lucy, who was trying to stare a hole in the table.

“Beer for me. Whatever IPA you’ve got on tap.”

Kelly nodded, waiting for Lucy to order. I nudged her foot under the table and her gaze whipped up.

I smirked.

She frowned, then forced a smile up at Kelly. “I’ll have the same. Thanks.”

“Menus?” Kelly asked.

“Nah.” I tapped my temple.

“Be right back.” She turned from the table but cast a glance over her shoulder at Lucy.

“See?” Lucy hissed.

“That’s not about you. It’s me.”

“Why?”

I leaned in closer. “Because I walked in here with your hand in mine. Because I didn’t sit at the bar like I normally do. Because I haven’t brought a woman to dinner at Jane’s who wasn’t my mother or my sister in four years.”

“Oh.” She blushed.

“Yeah. Oh.” I leaned back and slung one arm across the booth.

The bar was noisy tonight. Fridays usually were. Which was why I’d decided to bring Lucy here.

She wasn’t the only one invested in keeping her secret.

What I needed right now was time. Time with her. Time to learn more about her past and what had happened to bring her to Calamity. Time to figure this out.

And at the moment, my gut was telling me I didn’t have much time. That before I was ready, she’d be headed to Nashville. We were on a countdown headed to zero.

The last thing I needed were people asking around about the woman holed up in Kerrigan’s latest rental property. They’d get curious. The quilting guild would show up at her front door with a pan of cinnamon buns and a slew of questions, and those ladies were hard to dodge.

But if Lucy was seen around town—specifically, if she was seen with me—the questions would take on a different tone. The gossip wouldn’t be about a single woman, but rather the woman who’d captured my attention.

“Hi, Duke.” Jane came to the table with two pint glasses, foam nearly overflowing the rims.

“Hey, Jane. How are ya?”

“Bar is packed. Can’t complain.” She turned to Lucy and stuck out a hand. “Jane Fulson.”

“Jade Morgan.” Lucy smiled, the fake name rolling off her tongue with the same ease as always.

“Nice to meet you, Jade. You’re living out in Widow Ashleigh’s place, right?”

I fought a grin at the momentary flash of surprise in Jade’s eyes. Maybe she’d thought a week was too short a time to have been noticed. She’d learn soon enough that tabloids and paparazzi had nothing on the Calamity gossip mill.

“That’s right.” Lucy nodded. “It’s a beautiful house.”

“Kerrigan sure fixed it up nice.” Jane looked at me. “You showed her your house yet?”

I grinned. Jane didn’t ask where Lucy had come from. She didn’t ask what Lucy did for a living. No, she was more curious about how serious this relationship was. Exactly as I’d hoped. “What’s your burger special tonight?”

Jane shot me a playful sneer, knowing full well I’d evaded her, then jerked her thumb over her shoulder toward the chalkboard behind the bar. “Classic cheddar with fries.”

“Still trust me?” I asked Lucy, earning a nod. “We’ll take two specials.”

Jane whipped a notepad from her apron pocket, scribbled down our order and disappeared to the kitchen without another word.

“Jane owns the bar,” I told Lucy. And she was one of the reasons I’d chosen tonight to bring Lucy down.

Jane was in her fifties, her white-blond hair always tied up in a messy twist. She had kind brown eyes and a leathery tan, and though she was thin, her stature packed a punch. When Jane Fulson aimed her pointer finger at someone and told them to get the fuck out of her bar, only idiots made her say it twice.

“She’s a little intimidating,” Lucy said.

“Comes with the job. But Jane’s a good woman. And she knows most of Calamity’s secrets.”

“Does she keep them?”

“Depends on the secret. Some she’ll leak when it’s for the greater good.”

Jane heard all there was to hear around town—expected, considering her occupation. Tending bar all day, people gravitated to her when they had a problem to vent.

“If I ever need to know the street gossip, Jane’s is my first stop. In all my years working here as a cop, she’s never once let me down. There have even been a few times when she’s called me with tips about things that she could have just let fly.”

“Is that why you brought me here?”

“It’s one reason. If Jane knows you’re with me, she won’t press for information.”

“And the other reason?”

I took a sip of my beer. “Cold beer and greasy cheeseburgers.”

Lucy giggled, then sipped her own beer, and the two of us sat in comfortable silence, taking a look around the dark bar.

I caught some eyes and gave some waves, but otherwise people—bless them for trying—did their best to not outright stare.

“This is quite the place.” Lucy’s eyes were everywhere, taking in the tall, wooden ceilings and the excess of tin and aluminum signs on the forest-green walls. The lighting was dim. Tables filled the center of the room and booths hugged the walls. The bar itself was on the far wall, the mirrored shelves jammed full with liquor bottles.

Lucy kept scanning, oblivious to—or just ignoring—the people looking her way. When her eyes landed on the taxidermic bison bust beside the stage, her expression flattened. “A buffalo. Great.”

I chuckled, shaking my head as I drank my beer.

With her inspection over, Lucy gave me her attention, leaning her forearms on the table between us. The high-backed black vinyl booth blocked our conversation from prying ears. That and the jukebox was blaring. Still, she lowered her voice. “So . . .”

“So.”

“You took off on me earlier today, Sheriff.”

“Did that on purpose.”

“Why?”

“Because I assumed you’d want to talk.”

“Don’t you think we should?” She blinked. “Casual sex is—”

“That was not casual.”

Her breath caught. “It wasn’t?”

I leaned in, holding those green eyes. “I knew you’d want to talk and probably downplay what happened between us, so I left. Gave you some time to think and freak out.”

Her expression read guilty. She’d definitely freaked.

“We aren’t casual, Lucy.”

She dropped her eyes to her glass.

It would shock the hell out of me if she wanted casual. I wasn’t going to agree so it didn’t matter, but still, my heart stuttered as her silence lingered. Lucy had to know that whatever was happening here wasn’t casual.

“Okay,” Lucy whispered, lifting her gaze.

I let out the breath I’d been holding. “Glad that’s settled.”

The corners of her mouth turned up in a shy, sexy smile. “When was the last time you dated?”

“I’ve been on some dates. Nothing serious. Last long-term relationship I had was with Travis’s mom. You?”

“No one serious since high school. If you can call a high school boyfriend serious. A year ago I dated Blake Ray for about two minutes but he’s a tool.”

“And his music sucks.”

She burst out laughing, covering her smile with her hand. “You just made my night. We were both with the same record label and everyone was always blowing smoke up his ass. But he’s consistently pitchy and can’t remember the lines to his own damn songs.”

“Who are your favorite singers?” I asked, wanting to learn everything there was to know about her. I didn’t press for any information about Nashville. We’d discuss it eventually, but tonight I only wanted her relaxed and at ease, talking about nothing.

We talked until our burgers arrived, then we ordered another beer and ate, soaking in the noise of the room and the good company.

I was finishing off her uneaten fries when the house band arrived and began to set up on stage. “They have a band every Friday and Saturday night. They’re good.”

“Mind if we stay for their first set?” she asked.

“Not at all.” We could stay as long as she wanted because when we left here, we were going to the same place—her bed.

The band started right after Kelly swung by to collect our empty plates and bring us each a glass of water. As long as I’d known the guys who played at Jane’s, they’d never given themselves an official band name. Two of the guys were Jane’s nephews, and besides the occasional wedding, they only played at their aunt’s bar. Everyone just referred to them as Jane’s band.

Despite that, they were good. They had toes tapping beneath tables and by midnight, the dance floor would be packed with people doing the two-step and jitterbug.

Lucy seemed lost in the music, a soft smile on those perfect lips. When the band announced they’d been working on something new, she whispered, “Dear Fool,” before they’d even finished the first bar.

It was one of her songs—my personal favorite. It wasn’t the most popular of her hits, but it was fast-paced and the lyrics were funny.

“I love this song,” I said.

Her eyes lit up. “You do?”

“Did you write it?”

She nodded. “On a bus driving from Tallahassee to New Orleans.”

The room was into it and energized. After tonight, the guys would add it to their regular set list.

Lucy didn’t hum as the band played. She didn’t drum her fingers on the table or move her head to the beat. She just listened with a proud tilt to her chin.

She wasn’t the only proud one at our booth. My chest swelled and my eyes were locked on her, honored to be sitting across from this talented woman.

“Well?” I asked when the band wrapped up her song and took a break. “How’d they do?”

“I approve.”

“You ready to get out of here?”

Her eyes flashed and her tongue darted out to her bottom lip. “I’m all yours.”

Music to my ears.

I dropped three twenties on the table and slid from the booth, holding out a hand to help her out. Her dainty fingers curled, soft and gentle, around the callouses of mine.

Jane waved goodbye. I nodded to a table of Jane’s regulars in the middle of the room who were watching us leave. And when we stepped outside, the parking lot was dark, lit only by the bar’s lights, neon signs and the moon.

“Do you think anyone recognized me?” Lucy asked as we strode to my truck. “Those guys were staring as we left.”

“They’re just wondering who the hottest woman in the bar was tonight and how I got to her first.”

She smiled, leaning her temple into my arm. “Thank you. For tonight. I’m starting to like being Jade Morgan.”

We reached my truck and I pushed her against the cold metal, bending low so my breath whispered against the shell of her ear.

Her hands came to my sides, gripping the starched button-up shirt tucked into my jeans and belt.

“In public, you’re Jade. But behind closed doors, you’re—”

“Lucy?” she breathed.

I shook my head. “Mine.”