Free Moving_Violations by Christina M. Brashear

near fatal. Jackson assured himself that he just wanted to be certain Jacob stayed safe while immersed in his pleasure.
    As Jackson watched, Jacob’s thrusts increased. The sound of balls slapping against a rounded ass filled the air. The woman jerked, arched, her head was thrown back as she began to beg in desperation for release. Then she was crying out, her body stiffening as Jacob drove into her hard, deep. The sounds of their mingled climaxes had Jackson shifting uncomfortably. Damn if he hadn’t wished he had gone back to the jeep instead.
    The woman’s cries were much too reminiscent of Becca, reminding him how tight and hot her cunt was around his flesh. He sure hoped she got over her mad soon.
    “Dammit, Jack, this ain’t no peep show.” Jacob was breathing hard as he moved away from the woman, jerking her skirt over her exposed flesh, then fastening his jeans quickly. “What the hell are you doing here?”
    He helped the woman from the table, shielding her face with his big body as she fought to fix her clothes. He whispered something to her; Jackson couldn’t make out the 38
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    words. But there was a surprising edge of tenderness as Jacob touched her cheek, kissed her brow quickly.
    “Taking notes.” Jackson grinned. “That’s some fine form you got going there, my friend. I say you should give lessons.”
    The brawny ex-cop frowned back at him, his brown eyes narrowing dangerously as he stood in front of the woman. Then he turned back to her, tucked a strand of hair back from her face and sighed heavily.
    “Go on inside.” He nodded at the open back door. “I’ll be there as soon as I shove this bastard off my mountain.”
    The woman flushed, tugging her blouse closed and rushing away from Jackson’s curious gaze.
    “You used to have better manners,” Jacob grunted angrily as he sprawled out in one of the large, wooden chairs beneath the shade of a nearby tree. “What the hell happened?”
    Jackson flushed, but fought to ignore it.
    “And you used to hear better.” Jackson shrugged. “Must have been a while for you if you didn’t hear me cursing you as I came up this mountain.”
    “I heard your jeep. You need a tune up,” Jacob snarled. “Now what the hell are you doing here?”
    Jackson walked over to a matching chair and sat down heavily. He needed Jacob’s help; he couldn’t afford to alienate him right now.
    “I heard a report there’s illegals hiding somewhere in my county. I thought I’d head up here and see if you’ve noticed anything.” If anyone knew, it would be Jacob.
    Jacob grunted sarcastically. “Lot of things go on in these mountains.”
    That was the damned truth. It was becoming dangerous to even attempt hunting anymore.
    “Yep, and you seem to know who’s doing the better part of it and where they can be found,” Jackson said, watching his friend thoughtfully.
    Jacob shrugged.
    “Heard you have a new officer.” The other man grinned tightly, his brown eyes sharp.
    Jackson sighed and relaxed back in his chair. He didn’t know what the hell kind of game Jacob was playing, but evidently he knew something after all.
    “Yeah. I do.”
    “I hear that pretty little thing left the Wild Rose with a redneck sheriff her first night in, and he followed her right fast to her new house and spent the night. You shootin’ for trouble with Mayor ‘Fancypants’ or just stumbling into it?”
    Jackson felt a strange sense of unease at Jacob’s words.
    “If there’s trouble, then I guess I’ve stumbled into it,” he said with a smile. “But damn, Jacob, that little lady would be more than worth it.”
    Jacob sighed wearily, glancing at the house.
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    “Yeah, some of ‘em are worth it.” He swiped his fingers through his overly long blonde hair, then ran his hand over his scarred chest.
    The burns had healed, but the scars were still there. A reminder of the fiery crash that had nearly taken his life. The tall