Scorched by a Deputy (The Deputy Series Book 3) Page 3

  I arranged myself on the leather seat as best I could in a dress. Doubt filled my head as I maybe should have worn jeans and not a dress. I laid my purse beside me and put on the seatbelt. Dyane climbed in his seat shutting his door loudly. He looked at me, really was observing me and I became so self-conscious. I felt awkward. Was my lipstick smeared? Did I have messy hair? But then I stared into the navy-blue eyes searching my face and saw he was probing for a satisfactory clue.

  Was he probing for answers?

  I decided to give him an answer.

  “Thank you for picking me up,” I let him know gently.

  “Welcome,” he responded in a distant voice.

  “Are you sure you want to do this?” I demanded. My eyes with the firm expression on my face backed up my question. I was serious.

  “Are you?” He snapped.

  “Don’t ask a question when I asked you first!” I shouted at him. My voice echoed in the small space of his truck cab.

  His face got twisted and a dark glaze came into his eyes. Ah, the man does get affected by something. Before I could even gloat inside my own head with the thought in full, he snatched me by the arm, pulling me up to his chest. He looked down at me with a smoldering gaze. If I had been a piece of charcoal I would have been set ablaze. The warmth from his chest hit my breast and I couldn’t help the moan that escaped my mouth.

  Wrong action on my part, moaning that way. The heat from his navy-blue eyes seemed to turn them almost black. My Goodness, the heat from his chest tickled the tips of nipples making them hard little pebbles. I couldn’t stop myself from moaning. Trust me I did try. I bit my lip, after that small sound escaped because there was for sure another long one behind that first moan.

  “Don’t,” he spoke in an unkind voice. “Try my patience. I am trying to be civil with you!” He snapped the last part.

  “I’m not,” I got out in a fearful voice.

  “Just don’t,” his tone meant it, every word.

  He held me there for three seconds, against his chest, I knew he felt my nipples turn into hard little nubs. I could see his chin tick, his eyes flicker, and his breath got deeper. I didn’t mean to, I don’t even know why, but I couldn’t help myself. My eyes drifted down to his crotch. They widen with the evidence that said all too much how much he was affected.

  My thought on the evidence, was how big was his dick?

  The scent of his cologne combined with my body spray and it was intoxicating to the senses. It made me think and want all kinds of naughty things with this sexy man. He was much too everything in that moment. I suddenly did feel, and I knew in that moment of glancing down to his crotch that he was right he was too much for me. He was too much! And, I froze inside because I wanted to thaw him. I wanted to melt with him.

  “You asked for it,” he groaned. “Why couldn’t you behave?”

  “What…” I stuttered.

  Before I could blink, or say anything else, he had my chin firmly in his left hand while he bent those full red lips of his to mine in a punishing kiss. Yes, it was punishing. It was deep. It was wet. Delicious in his claiming of my lips for the very first time. The firm pressure of his lips onto mine just made my poor little nipples that much harder if such a thing was possible. In that moment, in that one kiss, it was possible.

  I moaned from the possession of his punishment. It didn’t take long as he devoured my mouth with his tongue sinking as deep as he could go before he let out a huge moan. The searing heat from the both of us in that one punishing kiss should have caught the front seat on fire. It was enough to make his window fog over. We were that hot together. As that thought flickered through my mind, I knew if he fucked me it would be a fire like I had never felt before. I also felt he knew it also. He felt the heat.

  I yanked my head back and grasped a long breath. He let me go. He inhaled a huge breath as well. I inched myself back into my seat in the passenger side of his truck. He reached for his seat belt and started the truck. I wanted to say wait, what are you doing? But I didn’t. I sat there looking out the window, wiping my lips off with the back of my left hand, and listened to him drive out my driveway onto the paved road.

  I was fucked in more ways than one in that moment.

  I finally got the nerve to look at him as he drove. His fingers gripped the steering wheel a little too hard I thought. His eyes still had a heat in them. Oh God! I swallowed hard. He glanced quickly at me, then put his eyes back to the road. He noticed everything. Must be the deputy in him I speculated. I wanted to say something but I was scared. What did I say now?

  I wasn’t sure what to say. I sort of figured if I said something I’d say the wrong thing you know. So, I didn’t. I didn’t want to rile him up any more than I had already done. I simply reached over with my left hand and laid it gently on his right thigh. He had finally stopped for a red light when I touched him. He looked at me for a moment then he eyed the highway again. The heat from his pants was just as hot or hotter than his lips had been.

  My fingers lightly rubbed the material of his jeans, tracing circles, figures, as I watched the traffic go by. We had stopped for another light when I felt his hand cup mine. The heaviness of his hand on my small one, was firm and immovable. I looked at him and he looked back at me. His eyes said he was taking me. I said do it. He groaned. I wanted to rip his clothes off.

  “Behave,” he ordered me.

  “I’m not doing anything,” I muttered.

  “You are,” he grunted.

  “Not yet,” I whispered as the light turned green.

  “Want to say that louder?” Dyane questioned me in a heady voice.

  I didn’t reply. There was no compulsion on my part to answer. I knew it and he knew it. He was going to fuck me after dinner. I wanted it. I think he was still fighting the urge. At least he had been until he kissed me. Once he had claimed my lips, he knew he was taking me. So, I let it go for now because I needed food and the energy it would give me. And a drink. Then it could be game on.

  Chapter 5

  Dyane was nice getting me out of the truck and guiding me inside the restaurant. The under currents between us were in full force. It was very hard to smile, order my drink, and look over a menu for something to eat when all I wanted to do was rip this man’s jeans off. He ordered a whiskey. I ordered a mixed drink with a side of water. The erotic urges that were dancing through my skin just wouldn’t not calm the fuck down.

  I wiggled around in my seat, pulling my dress down, and touching the tops of my thighs. Just that lightly brushing on my fingers made my pussy clench with wanting. I must have showed the reaction to that grazing in my face because as I looked over at Dyane from the top of my menu he was looking at me. His navy-blue eyes were hotter than I had ever witnessed. The heat from just him alone was setting me on fire.

  “What are you getting?” I asked him in a restful tone.

  “I’m not sure,” he responded.

  “Shrimp I think for me, I could use the extra protein,” I cleverly responded. I laid down my menu and got a long swallow of my red iced drink. The coldness soothed my aching throat.

  “God…You really are pushing my fucking buttons!” Dyane harshly groaned out.

  “What?” I snapped.

  I hadn’t done anything. Yet.

  We ordered our food and I sat there quietly watching him. He was watching me as well. Slowly sipping his drink, looking around the place, glancing back at me, watching my every move. He was so masculine I thought. His fingers lightly tapped against the side of his glass, if he hadn’t kissed me in the truck, I wouldn’t have known how much he was bothered. How much he hungered for me? He showed just a trickle of his emotions and that was all I needed to see. I wanted to witness and feel so much more. This man was a what you would call a real man.

  A man that was hardcore but brutally honest. He wanted to fuck me and he told me. He didn’t want any other attachments. He was afraid of getting hurt but I wasn’t sure I needed to say that yet. After all, what h
ad he said, he’s into hooking up and fucking. Not that I am…but I could be. I need to be. For this night, I will be. I will be his fucking dream come true.

  My drink is almost empty and I asked for another glass of water. The edge at been taken off a small bit. It still was there deep inside of me. My body whispered it wanted him to claim us. I told it to be calm. Wait. Patience. When our food came, I dived in. I was so hungry! In more ways than one.

  As we ate together just that simple act between two people I suddenly understood why couples could stay together fifty years. Even in silence we were aware of each other. He knew when I needed salt, my drink refilled, when I was looking at him with questions in my eyes. I looked over at him and knew he was passing the time, trying not to scare the hell out of me, that he felt the ache and the fire of passion just as I did.

  In that moment, that breath, those minutes, I knew I had to experience the meeting of our bodies. There would be no turning back, no running away, no second assumptions. This was what I desired. Him. Us. I was going to get it. His chest sped up with each breath he took, and he knew I was hot with desire, with need, and so was he. He was hard. Ready to take me. And that also made me so wet, so needy for him. Dyane’s gaze filled with passion, with a stare as old as time. No words were needed but maybe they needed to be thrown into the open space between us. Clear the hot air between us that heating up faster than a kettle of water.

  “Do you pick up traffic stops often?” I asked bitterly. Yes, there was a little sarcastic tone in my voice.

  Dyane was so restrained and controlled till I wondered what the feel of him coming unrestrained was going to feel like. I had a clue. I wondered just for a second, if I could really, really handle what he was controlling. However, this awful gripping need to taste him, feel him, was something so insistent inside me that I couldn’t stop the feelings. I closed my eyes for a moment, and when I opened them he was starring directly through me. I knew I had pushed his limits. Or, at least one of them.

  “Do I fuck them, you mean?” he taunted back at me. His voice was so wicked and pious that I wanted to scratch his eyes out. He slowly, eyes still on me, took a sip of his drink.

  “Yes – that’s what I meant,” I snipped out.

  “Yes, I do,” he responded in an aloof voice.

  I didn’t know when to quit. “Do you enjoy fucking them?” I taunted.

  “Sometimes…” he ground out. I was getting to him and pushing buttons. His body language was tight. I could only think that I if I looked under the table his dick would be hard and full against the zipper of his jeans. Was it painful? Did he want to relieve that hard pressure? Did he really want to fuck me? Use me?

  “Do you think…you’re gonna enjoy fucking me?” The doubting was in my face and probably my voice.

  “Oh – I know I’m gonna enjoy you,” he told me firmly. “The real question being are you going to take what I give you? Can you live with the rules?”

  “What the fuck does that mean?” I demanded.

  “It means – you take the way I am going to fuck you,” he explained. “Hard. Then you get the fuck out.”

  “I can do that,” my voice suddenly uncomfortable. “What does get the fuck out mean?”

  “It means I fuck you nasty and hard. Then you take your sweet ass home and you don’t call me again.” He said in a bitter and scornful voice.

  I think with that last statement from his bitter mouth that yes, I have really jumped into the fire of hell. Maybe I have. But then as I get the last drink of my mixed drink, as he pays for the dinner, I see a flash of emotion behind his face. I am not sure what that emotion is but I am willing in that moment, in that second, to go ahead and take what he wants to give.

  Can I handle it the way he gives it?

  Hard?

  Nasty?

  Raw fucking…

  I think so.

  Maybe.

  Time will tell. And with the waitress walking away that time will come very shortly. He looks at me – hard. I know I have pushed his limits. As he slides his muscled body of the booth, and stands up while I am still seated I look up at him. Oh Lord – he’s one sexy man. If only I could explain just how desirable this man is to me. I am not the only woman in the restaurant looking at him. He puts off this impression of being unapproachable, the slight suggestion of sex in a very raw form, and just masculinity.

  “Let’s go!” Dyane orders me. His look is all dark and don’t piss me off.

  I fumble for my purse, slowly putting it onto my shoulder, wiggle to the side of the bench, pulling my dress down to my knees as it bunched up to my thick thighs. I look up at Dyane as he moves in front of me, his left hand out. The fire in his navy-blue eyes gaze back at me with a smoldering scrutiny that speaks volumes about his intentions. Something in the back of my mind is telling me I should be scared as hell. There is no shame in saying no and walking away. But that awful desire to experience his imprint, his touch, his kisses, eats at the inside of my feminine core.

  As I stand up, it is very hard not to notice how tall he really is. The women around us openly look at his body, he notices but doesn’t react to that attention. For now, his attention is all on me. And my heart beats faster in that knowledge. I’m going to get him in a few minutes, just like I wanted. That excites me. That scares the hell out me also. But I look into his eyes as they darken with need, as he holds my small hand inside his huge palm, and it hits. I don’t want to run. I want to feel all this heat between us.

  “Thank you for the dinner,” I sincerely say.

  “You’re welcome.”

  There is nothing to say next really except for yes, he might have guided me out of the restaurant to his truck, but it is more like he dragged me out. As I tried to walk slowly, he would yank gently on my hand or my elbow and pull me to where he wanted me to be. As he placed his palm on the lower part of my back, the damn heat from that touch alone probably gave me a burn. It was that hot.

  The walk to his truck was a hurried pace set by him, and I wanted to stroll to the truck. Not happening. He pulled me along as if we were lovers in love. The real reason behind that pulling was not lost on me. It was going to happen. Deputy Dyane Nelson was going to fuck me after all.

  As he pulled his keys out of his jeans pocket, the click-click sound of the doors unlocking made me shiver. He pulled open the door for me and as I slipped into the small open space between the edge of the door and him. It was then that he grabbed hold tightly of my elbow and yanked me around to face him. His large muscled frame blocking my view of the car next to us. I assumed also to block me in the tight space so I couldn’t move.

  I was trapped against Dyane and the hard steel of his truck. The irony wasn’t lost on me. As I wanted not to feel the hardness of his truck against my legs and back but the hard steel of his cock. He kept hold of my right elbow with his left hand as he blocked me in with his right arm and his large frame. I had no choice but to accept what he was fixing to do to me. I looked down at the blacken pavement and saw his large boots up against my small feet. Silly thought I know at that moment, but it struck me as how large, how different he was compared to me. A delicate body, in a delicate soul, up against this very hard body, who had an unforgiving soul. He was hardened and I wondered for the flickering second if I could penetrate his heart.

  Was it possible? I had to ask myself the question. As his husky voice penetrated my thoughts, my body seeped with desire as the proof rolled down the inside of my thighs.

  “Look at me!” he demanded.

  I didn’t. I kept my bright blue-eyes on his black boots. He yanked my small body even closer to his hot body. His voice now filled with emotion, hard, edgy, wanting me to submit. To accept what he needed to validate. “I said look at me goddamn it.”

  Even after his ordering me to look up at him I didn’t comply. I know I shouldn’t have made him order me to look at him but I did. I think that made the rigid edges of his control fall apart. Whatever hold he had on himself I with my fooli
sh actions made him loose what control he had.

  In a blink, faster than that mostly likely, I felt his left hand grip my small square chin in his hand, hard. No gentle up-lifting, no gentle caresses, just a firm pressure of his fingers lifting my chin up till I was forced with my eyes to stare at him. Oh, God – the scorching blaze of his gaze told me I should have looked up at him. His scent carried in the light breeze of the Florida night making me inhale him. My heart sped up in its beating.

  “When I tell you to do something – you goddamn it – do it,” he viciously snapped to me. “Do I make myself fucking clear?”

  Swallowing I tried to think what to reply. Sudden anger hit my gut. Of course, the aching desire to experience his touch was still there which made it much worse for myself. Dyane had hit what nerves I carried and I couldn’t stop myself.

  “I am not your stupid slave!” I yelled bewildered.

  If a face could get bright red underneath a dark tan, his did. I knew after the six words left my mouth I had said the wrong thing. Again. I also knew that what he told me before about fucking raw, dirty, was only too true for him. I wanted to ask if he’d ever made love? It was plain he wasn’t the flowery type, the type to bring tulips and chocolates. Those types of men I had been attractive to in the past. Which probably is why I’m too damn attractive to him!

  “Listen here you little cunt,” he grounded out, his voice hard and mean. “You will obey me if you want me to fuck you.” He put his face right up to mine, mere inches from lips. If I stuck my tongue out, I could lick his lips. The urge for me to do just that hit me hard.

  Dyane must have had the same urges because as that one thought skipped through my head his mouth was taking my lips. He forced his lips to claim mine. They were fast, wet and hard. I moaned from the force as he held my chin solidly up to his lips. I couldn’t move only take. His fingers reached up to the sides of my jaw and pushed my lips open as he forced his tongue deeply into the depths of my small mouth. He made sharp stabbing movements with his tongue as he caught mine and trapped it with his. I groaned from the wetness, the heat, the force, as the force of his desire embellished me also.