Free Guns & Dusty Roads: The Iron Brotherhood Series by Samantha Westlake

any friends as hot as you?”
    Her cheeks glowing red, Kara didn’t respond, hurrying into Cross’s room.
    Inside, the man was reclining on the bed, still gloriously naked.  He glanced up, a little smile on his lips, as Kara entered.  “Feeling better?” he asked.
    Instead of replying right away, Kara looked down, spotting her overnight bag at the foot of the bed.  Perfect.  “Back to my senses,” she replied, as she pulled a tee shirt and boxers out of the bag.  “And ready to go to sleep.  We’ve got a long day of finding evidence tomorrow.”
    Cross didn’t say a word as she got dressed in the sleepwear and crawled into the bed beside him.  Unfortunately, the bed was quite narrow, and Kara had no choice but to press up against the man’s naked length.  And she couldn’t hlep but notice that he was still somewhat erect - probably from ogling her as she put on her pajamas.
    “Nothing’s going to happen,” Kara said out loud, facing away from Cross.  “I lost control.  It was a mistake.”
    She almost wished that the biker would try and argue.  Frustrated, both with how she had lost control and with how she could still feel her body’s arousal, Kara was suddenly on edge, ready for a fight.
    But Cross merely reached up and flicked off the lights, rolling over so his back was pressed against Kara’s.  In just minutes, she heard his breath deepen as he slipped out of consciousness.
    But for FBI Special Agent Kara Sybil, lying in an unfamiliar bed next to a naked man that inspired all sorts of previously dormant feelings, sleep was slow in coming.
    CHAPTER 9
    The first thought in Special Agent Kara Sybil’s mind when she woke up was the next morning was that she had to be at her peak performance today - there could be no mistakes.
    The second thing that came to her mind after she woke up was a splitting, deeply penetrating, almost crippling pain, reaching far into the recesses of her brain.
    And that pain wasn’t helped by the bright sunlight, streaming in through the half-open blinds of the window across the room from the bed.
    Squeezing her eyes shut against that bright light, Kara groaned, rolling over.  Why did mornings have to even exist?  Why couldn’t everyone just agree to not start handling life until a more civilized hour, maybe like just before noon? 
    As she rolled over, grabbing at the sheets and trying to tug them up to cover her head and shield herself against the sunlight, Kara collided with something lying next to her.
    Something warm, and large, and surprisingly comfortable.
    She was already starting to curl up against it when, like a bolt of lightning, the memory of what - or rather, who - was lying next to her returned.
    Forget coffee.  That memory, by itself, was enough to send Kara sitting up bolt upright, her eyes flying open even despite the pain of the hangover.
    Next to her, Cross rolled over to look up at her, stretching his big, well muscled arms lazily above his head as he opened his eyes.  “Morning, sunshine,” he greeted her, a sneaky little grin dancing around the edges of his features.  “How are you feeling, after last night’s fun?”
    Kara glared down at him, but groaned as the memories slowly drifted up, like bubbles of gas rising in a swamp.  “No, no,” she murmured, grabbing the pillow off of the bed and sticking it between her knees so that she could bury her face in it.
    She had totally gone off the rails last night.  Getting drunk while undercover, risking her entire position, letting these criminals buy her drinks.  She shouldn’t have gone along with any of it.
    And then she’d ended up back here!  In bed, with Cross on top of her, his hands ripping off her clothing, taking advantage of her in such a crude and animalistic manner, stripping her for his pleasure…
    Kara didn’t even let herself consider her own part in that bit of frenzied activity.  She hadn’t wanted the man, she told herself.  It was nothing but a moment of