The Wicked West

“Please,” she begged. “Please.”

When she heard a low grunt of male pleasure, Lily’s body squeezed impossibly tight. “Oh,” she whispered as her thighs shuddered around her hand. “Oh, yes.” She breathed through the spasms, drawing them out as long as she could, rubbing until her flesh grew too sensitive to bear it.

Slumping into the chair, Lily let her hand fall limp against her leg.

Surely he couldn’t deny her now. She wanted to give him everything.

CHAPTER THREE

Hale drew in a deep, shuddering breath before he bolted upright in his bed. The weak sunlight disoriented him, because he was almost sure he’d just closed his eyes a few moments before.

Frowning, he glanced toward the gray light streaming through the window at the foot of the bed. It was daylight, all right. And the window reminded him of more than just a night spent sleeping.

Blood rushed to his face at the memory of what Mrs. Anders had done. And what he’d done while watching her. He’d imagined pumping into her instead of his own hand. Imagined his fingers holding her neck arched tight and to the side as he plowed into her. Imagined her begging him to stop as she came all over his cock.

“Damn it,” he spat, disgusted with himself…and with her.

What the hell was she thinking? Either she was dumb as a rock and unaware of what curtains were for, or she knew exactly what she was doing. And the woman hadn’t struck him as anything near stupid in the two weeks he’d known her.

Which meant she’d wanted him to watch her. Naked. Naked and fingering herself to climax.

His cock stirred, swelling against his belly, even as his stomach burned at the thought. This was a law-abiding town, and he was the sheriff, for God’s sake. If Mrs. Anders was a whore of some kind, she belonged on the other side of Center Street, where decent folk could ignore the goings-on if they chose. She didn’t belong here, two doors down from the schoolmarm’s house and half a block away from the church. She either had to cut out her little show or she had to go.

Her show…By God, he’d seen naked women aplenty, but he’d never seen anything like that. Sucking her finger into that tight, pink mouth, wanting him to imagine her tongue against his flesh. And he had. He’d pictured her on her knees for him, licking and sucking until he came down her throat.

“Fuck,” Hale spat impatiently. He was hard as a rock now. He’d end this today, but he couldn’t stomp over there in this state, or he’d likely have her against the wall before he could deliver his lecture on propriety. Always pragmatic, he simply took himself in hand and pictured Mrs. Anders. It took only a few minutes of stroking before he was done. Problem solved.

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