Merry with a Lawman (Love Beach, Holiday Collection)

2. Madly, Foolishly

TWO

MADLY, FOOLISHLY

BELLE BAYMONT

I raise an eyebrow at the man in uniform stalking outside my back door. “Need something, Officer? Have I been a bad girl?”

“Still dressed in that robe I see.” His voice gruff, it sends a thrill through me. I step aside, a silent invitation into my home because Davis is mine, no matter how much he pushes me away.

He walks by me, his familiar scent embraces before he even touches me. Sandalwood, cinnamon, musk, all from a classic Old Spice but even better, because that’s Davis, a smell distinctly all him.

With the door closed, I lean against it. He reaches out and unties the sash at my waist, pulling at it slowly until he holds the entire length in his hands.

“I had a complaint about a woman teasing an officer on the front porch of her home earlier.” His face doesn’t crack, able to keep the stern cop routine going even now. While my lips twitch.

“Well, if I do the crime, then I should do the time.” I hold my wrists out together in front of me, and he ties the sash around them. With a yank, he tugs my arms above my head, his broad hand holding my bound wrists in place.

My chest heaves as our eyes lock. But only for a few seconds, as he never reveals himself any more than he has to. His heavy lids drop, lowering to watch the show of his hand parting the fabric. Knuckles brush my tanned and toned skin. My breath shatters; I work hard to keep in shape, hoping he’ll notice.

“Fuck.” Whispered long and slow on a groan, that’s all the appreciation I get from him. I hate what his parents did to him, what he had to endure, what keeps him from opening his heart to me.

But he’s here. He’s mine for a while. In my loving arms. I’ll take it.

His lips land on my neck, brushing kisses there, never on the lips. My lips… Oh, my lips ache for a touch of his. A rough palm drags down my side, over the front of my thigh. I raise a leg on him, and he eases his fingers through my wetness, circling my clit with such precision, in the way he’s perfected many times.

Whether he wants to admit it or not, he knows me. My body. My heart and soul. As I know him.

He’s going for it tonight, not wasting time, the fullness of several fingers pumping inside of me. Sometimes I like this, the way we can just tear each other’s clothes off and go at it. But on rare occasions, I get nice and slow and tender from him.

I missed him all week, after he told me last time he wouldn’t be back. I would have preferred slow tonight, to linger with him as long as possible—to try to talk things out and convince him to stay with me.

But he’s here. I’ll take what he gives. I’m madly, foolishly in love with him.

“Davis,” I moan his name over and over. I crest quickly, riding out the pleasure bursting inside of me. But then his fingers vacate. His hand leaves my wrists. The sounds of his uniform belt coming undone, his zipper ripped down, and a condom packet tearing, all things foreshadowing a hard and fast connection.

He picks me up, adjusting us, my back screaming against the door, but I won’t complain. My ankles cross behind his trim waist and I hang on tight, wrapping my arms around his broad shoulders for this fast and wild ride only Davis can deliver.

“Yes, Belle.” He grunts as he enters me to the hilt. What if this is really the end for us? The last time? I close my eyes against that notion, focusing only on the way we move together. Memorizing every inch of his length as he spears me so good.

Our bodies mold together well, so tight, banging against the door with every thrust. The wood groans from our weight and the pressure. I never want to fuck against this door with anyone else. Hell, I only lost my virginity to my college boyfriend just so I wouldn’t be so nervous if my wishes came true and the first time Davis and I…

With a final grunt, he stills and fills me up. He releases himself inside of me so hard, his thighs quiver.

“Oh Bella. My Bella.”

My… That’s all I’ve ever wanted to be, is his.

Yet as quickly as this started, he ends it faster, putting my feet gently back on the floor. He unwraps my wrists and tosses the sash on the counter. Then stalks off to the guest bathroom down the hall to clean up.

With a huff, I pull myself together, tying the sash back on, wondering which Davis I’m going to get when he returns. The one who’ll stay and want to hang out together? That’s a rare day, but it’s happened a handful of times.

When he returns with his clothes still on, hardly looking at me, I have my answer.

“Stay for breakfast,” I plead.

“I should go.” He stops a foot away from the door. “Belle?—”

“It’s eggs and toast. Only take a few minutes. You probably haven’t eaten a thing since yesterday.” I get my hopes up when he doesn’t respond right away, so I pull out eggs from the fridge.

“We talked about this last time. We need to stop doing this.”

“You’re right. All this sneaking around isn’t what I want.” I keep pulling things out. Bowl, whisk, frying pan.

He blows out air and runs a hand through his hair. “Then we agree. We’re done.”

What? How can he be so… So…

Suddenly, the frustration compounds, like gray clouds have quickly amassed above me, weighing me down. All the air in the room changes, electrically charging, and I’m a lightning bolt ready to strike.

“You know what, Davis? If I’d have known you’d be so fearful, I’d have never started up with you.”

“I’m a damn officer, Belle. I don’t fear a thing.”

I turn on him, hands on hips, eyes ablaze. “Yes, you do. You’re scared of these arms holding you tight, of this house becoming your home, and you guard your heart in a prison of your own making.”

He moves to the door, shaking his head. Shit. I’ve said enough to push him out for good.

“Like I told you before, Belle. I don’t need a relationship. I won’t be back.”

“You say that every time.”

“I mean it this time. Goodbye Belle.”

He leaves, yanking my heart right out of my chest and stealing it away with him. I run to the window to watch, my jaw on the floor and tears threatening my eyes. With every fiber of my being, I want to cry, but I hold off, hoping he does what he always does—look back at me from the gate to the alley.

It’s that one look every time that gives me hope. But tonight—he doesn’t stop. No peering back, or slight wave of his hand.

He might actually mean it. We’re at the end.

“Fuck you, Davis!” I scream, my heart lurching. How long have I been a simp for this guy? Since high school, and that’s far too long for a woman to wait for a man to come around, according to my sister.

I deflate, hopeless, finally ready to admit she’s right. I sink into a nearby chair and let the damn burst wide open. Soft at first, then the tears get ugly. They fall like constant rain showers on the movie of my stupid wasted life replaying in my head, every second spent of the past year trying to convince a man to love me.