A super-spectacular orgasm was good.
Jenna came to that conclusion after a night spent tossing and turning and damning her bad luck.
She’d always been a half-full kind of girl and the more she thought about it, the more she refused to worry over what had happened with Hunter.
Sure, it had caught her off guard. He wasn’t an it type of guy and so she hadn’t been ready for the wow factor.
But obviously he was an it guy in sheep’s clothing. That could be a good thing. She had an itch that she needed to scratch and who better to do it with the wrong type of guy—a total badass—disguised as the right type of guy—Mr. Nice and Forgettable?
She had no intention of flaunting a sexual relationship with Hunter DeMassi. But it wouldn’t exactly spell disaster for her newfound reputation if someone saw them together and thought they were dating.
Yes, this entire situation might be a blessing in disguise. She could beef up her good-girl image by dating the most well-respected man in town, and burn off her lust behind closed doors. It was a win-win.
Provided Hunter felt the same way.
Doubt niggled at her, pushing and pulling at the confidence that she’d worn for so many years. She tamped down on the unfamiliar feeling and gathered her courage.
There was only one way to find out.
* * *
“Can I help you?” Marge Sawyer Laraby was in her midsixties. She had thinning gray hair that was cut in a short bob and way too much green eye shadow. One carefully drawn-on eyebrow arched as she stared up from the front desk at the police station.
“I’m looking for the sheriff.”
“Is that so?” The eyebrow arched even higher. “Police emergency?”
“No, no. It’s more personal.”
Marge opened her mouth to ask another question, but Hunter rounded the corner at that moment, a cup of coffee in one hand and a case file in the other. He looked a far cry from the hunky guy who’d seduced her last night and taken her over the top in the back parking lot of the honky-tonk. A sliver of disappointment rolled through her, followed by a rush of apprehension.
But then she caught the gleam in his eyes and her stomach hollowed out. Excitement chased up her spine and she knew that she’d definitely met her wolf in sheep’s clothing.
“Can we talk?” she blurted. When Marge rested a hand on her chin, her ears perked, Jenna added, “In private?”
“Sure thing.” He motioned her forward and she found herself following him down a small hallway. When they were safely inside his office, he sank down behind the desk and motioned her into a chair. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” She shook her head. “That is, everything.” Her gaze caught and held his. “It’s about last night.”
“It shouldn’t have happened,” he said before she’d had a chance to open her mouth again.
“Really?” She licked her lips. “I mean, is that what you really think? Because I was actually thinking that maybe it was a good thing that it happened because it got me thinking.”
“About?”
“About doing it again.”
“I thought you didn’t do relationships?”
“I don’t. It’s just…” She licked her suddenly dry lips. “I’m not after a relationship.” For the first time in her life, she found herself hesitating. She, Jenna Tucker, who’d never backed down from anyone or anything was actually floundering for her words.
Maybe she was changing, after all.
The notion bothered her even more than her sudden loss for words.
She shook the notion away and focused on the gleam in his eye and the heat rippling between them. “I’ve been thinking about last night. About what happened and what we should do about it now.”
His eyes darkened, but he didn’t reach out. Instead, he simply watched her. Waiting.
* * *
“I think we should do it again,” she blurted. “And again. However many times it takes.”
“For what?”
“For me to stop thinking about you. To forget.” That’s what this was really about. Deep in her gut, she’d convinced herself that Hunter would be like all the others. Nice and forgettable.
Only she wasn’t forgetting.
Not yet.
“Make no mistake, I’m not after a relationship. This is purely physical. You’re like a great dip that you can’t stop eating. Eventually you take a bite and you don’t want another.”
“Is that so?”
A girl could hope. “I think the attraction’s new and I’ve been depriving myself lately because, well, I’m trying to change my life and my image.”
“So you’re horny? That’s what this is all about?”
“Yes. I mean, no. I mean, I’m thinking that maybe you’re horny, too, and since we both are, maybe we could come to a mutually satisfactory agreement.”
“Your cheeks are flushed,” he noted, stepping closer. “And your pulse is erratic.” He pressed a fingertip to the side of her neck in a slow, sweeping gesture that sent goose bumps chasing up and down her arms. “And you look a little faint. Do you always get faint when you get horny?”
No. She’d never once felt faint around any man. Even the hot guys she’d dated before her nice guy spell.
“You’re turned on right now,” he added. “Right here.”
And how. Despite the fact that she’d cut loose last night, she was no closer to being free of the fantasies that haunted her night after night. If anything, she was even more worked up. Desperate. Hungry.
“What about you?” she countered. “Are you turned on?”
She didn’t have to ask. She saw the blaze in his eyes, the tensing of his muscles, and felt the heat rolling off his body.
“I could go for round two.”
Not that they were going another round right here and now.
She might be feeling some of the old Jenna feelings, but she wasn’t the old Jenna. She wasn’t going to strip off her clothes and throw herself across his desk.
“Okay, so we’re both on the same page.” She drew a deep, shaky breath. “We’ll have sex again.”
“And again.”
Her gaze met his and a ripple of excitement went through her. “But no one can know. I mean, this is just temporary. I need a little action and you need a little action, but neither of us is looking for anything permanent, right? No relationship?”
He nodded and a whisper of regret went through her. A crazy feeling because Hunter DeMassi was the last person she wanted to get serious with. Sure, he turned her on in a major way now, but that would fade. It always did with guys like him.
She licked her lips and trembled at the anticipation that rippled through her. “Okay, great. We’re both on the same page.” She swallowed against her suddenly dry throat. “So, um, when should we start? You could stop by tonight after work. I’ve got to make a house call at the Miller farm, but I’ll be home by six.”
He looked as if he wanted to protest, but then Marge’s voice drifted over the intercom. “Sheriff, you’ve got a call on line one. It’s Lorelei. She said Gerald’s headed to the police station to pay Haywood a visit.”
“Tell her I’ve got it on this end. Duty calls,” he told her and she didn’t miss the glimmer of regret. He pushed to his feet. “I need to catch Gerald before he does any damage to himself or anyone else.”
“I’m surprised he can get around, what with his foot missing.”
“He’s not missing a foot.”
“I heard that his foot was blown off.”
“That’s crazy. He suffered a wound to his big toe. A few stitches at best.”
“What about his jaw? Is that still intact?”
“What are you talking about?”
She shook her head and gave him the lowdown on the gossip. “The joys of living in a small town,” she finally said. “The stories just keep getting bigger and bigger.” Which was why she needed to be careful with Hunter. She knew if anyone happened to see them together that they would be married with five kids by the time the news circulated. Or worse, the entire town would accuse her of corrupting the town’s most respectable citizen.
Either spelled bad news for her future as a scandal-free businesswoman.
Then again, there were worse rumors. Married with kids was certainly a lot better than the rumor that she’d slept her way through the entire football team.
One lousy safety—and he had been lousy—and the next thing she’d known, she’d been walking around with Slut of the Century tattooed on her forehead.
Not that she’d cared. He’d ridden a motorcycle and worn his hair a little too long and the idea of him—no matter how disappointing the reality—had been more exciting than the boring day-to-day of her small town.
She’d been so desperate for an escape back then, for a few blessed moments of wow, that she’d actually liked making the good people of Rebel talk.
Just like James Harlin.
“Folks like to talk, so let ’em talk,” her grandfather had said more times than she could count. “I can’t stand the lot of ’em anyhow, so better they’re talking about me than to me.”
Jenna had always felt the same way.
Then.
“I should go.”
He grinned, a slow tilt to his lips that made her stomach flutter. “I’ll catch up to you later.”
I’m counting on it.
* * *
She’d propositioned him.
The knowledge followed Hunter throughout the rest of the day as he intercepted Gerald before the man had a chance to pull out his shotgun and blow off a few limbs, his own or anyone else’s. He confiscated the gun and tossed Gerald into a holding cell until Lorelei could come and get him. A few more catastrophes involving the mayor’s car getting towed and the cash register coming up short at McAbe’s Mercantile, and Hunter managed to call it quits.
The sun was just setting when he pulled into the driveway at Jenna’s place and climbed out of his truck.
“What do you say we take a little ride?” he asked when she opened the door wearing a pink sundress. Her feet were bare, her toes tipped in the same color as her dress.
* * *
She looked more sweet and wholesome than drop-dead sexy, but his body reacted the same. His gut twisted and his cock hardened, and it was all he could do not to reach out and touch her.
She was right. The deprivation was getting to him. He was way past horny and it was making him crazy.
Bat shit crazy.
“But I thought we could just hang out here,” she started.
He shook his head. “If I do that, you’re going to be flat on your back in the next five seconds.”
Her grin was slow and deliberate. “I thought that was the idea.”
He stiffened against the rush of heat whipping through his body. “We did that once. I want to draw it out this time.” He needed to draw it out, to take his time and really enjoy himself.
That’s why he still wanted her. Things had gone too fast and furious.
Not this time.
“Unless you like being stuck inside?” His question seemed to remind her of something and she glanced back at the sparsely furnished living room. Most of the furniture had been moved out to prepare for the demolition. Only an overstuffed chair and the console TV remained.
“Actually, I think I’d like to get out for a little while.” The sadness slid from her gaze and excitement took its place. “Just let me get my shoes and I’ll meet you at the truck.”