Free Lawless by Cindy Stark Page A

in his
chair, eyeing her up and down, his gaze leaving a smoking trail down her body. 
"I'd really like to see you out of those pants, but since I've already had
that view, I think I'll go with the shirt first."
    "What?"  She gave his arm a friendly
smack.  "I told you not to look."
    "But I didn't agree."
    "You are not an upstanding officer of the
law."
    "Honey, I might be a lawman, but I'm still a
man."  He tugged on her shirt, looking up at her under raised brows.  "Off."
    She exhaled a sigh of frustration.  He was good. 
Damn good.  There was nothing she loved more than a worthy opponent.  Well,
except a worthy opponent with his shirt off.
    The first button on her cotton shirt offered no
resistance as she undid it.  The second quickly followed.
    "Wait.  Slow down.  I want to enjoy this."
    She lifted a brow, her internal temperature
shooting through the roof.  He wanted a show, did he?  Fine.  She'd give him
one that would make him regret his little professional relationship speech.  She
might have lost the first round of cards, but she'd be a fool to not take
advantage of her current opportunity.  "Whatever you say, deputy."
    She stepped forward putting one of her thighs
between his, bringing her breasts just above his eye level.  She wasn't sure
where the hell she was going with this, but right now she didn't care.  She'd
spent so many months hiding from her father and essentially from life.  The
sparks between her and Milo were intense, addictive, and she couldn't stop.
    She trailed her fingers down the gaping vee of her
shirt to the third button, his eyes widening with interest.  She popped the
button open, revealing a good expanse of her bra.
    His smile grew bigger.  "Mmm…purple.  Sexy." 
He took hold of her hips as though he was afraid she'd bolt.
    She removed his hands.  "Touching was not
part of the game."
    His gaze jumped to hers and then narrowed.  "Touché."
    She finished unbuttoning her shirt with agonizing
slowness, wondering if she was torturing him or her more.  When she finished,
she put her hands behind her back, tugging off her sleeves, and conveniently
thrusting her breasts forward.
    The feel of his warm breath on her skin and the
dark desire burning in his eyes caused her to inhale sharply.
    "Shit."  He stood so fast his chair
nearly toppled.  He backed away from her, his face a mixture of passion and
agony.  "I concede.  You win this round."  He headed for the back
door.  "I need some air."  The alluring smell of rain rushed in as he
walked out.
    Just like that she stood in his kitchen, shirtless and
stunned.  "What the hell?" she muttered as she pushed her hands
through her sleeves and followed after him.  He couldn't walk away like that.

CHAPTER SEVEN
     
    Milo strode out the door, continued past the porch,
stumbling to the center of the yard.  He lifted his face toward the heavens,
letting the blessed cool rain wash away some of the heat consuming his body. 
The back door slammed.  He knew she'd come outside, but he wasn't ready to face
her yet.
    She shoved his arm, her anger evident as he turned
to her.  "What the hell was that?"
    "Go away, Ariana."  He owed her an
explanation, but he wasn't sure he could explain the fiery ball of desire that
had overwhelmed him while the storm raged.  He'd thought their teasing might
have been a fun way to spend the evening, even though he knew he'd ignored many
policies the U.S. Marshals would have held him to.  But he wasn't in the
Marshals any longer, and they were both adults.
    He'd been dead wrong.  He'd thought he could
handle himself with her?  Big joke.  Even now with her standing in the rain,
her shirt still unbuttoned, all he could think about was how badly he wanted to
pull her to the grass and make fierce love to her.
    "No.  You need to talk to me.  One second we're
flirting and having fun, and then you bail with no explanation.  That's not
okay."
    He gave her a chilly, don't-mess-with-me look.