Holiday ‘Holli’ James looks forward the week between Christmas and New Year’s. This is her one chance to get away from the hustle and bustle of her successful decorating business. The plan this year is a trip to New York City to see the sights and the lights.
The plan didn’t include a side trip to a small town jail in the middle of Pennsylvania. Nor did the plan include Officer Hunky.
A single police officer, Michael is working the holidays -- again. With no local family and no interest in accepting the pity invitations to Christmas dinner from his married friends, he’s content to work and earn extra cash. Besides, this year looks to be as uneventful as ever. Until he pulls Holli over for speeding, only to discover she’s wanted on charges of fraud.
Sexual tension spikes as Michael begins to investigate and discovers Holli isn't who her record says she is. While they await answers, Michael is granted permission to remove Holli from the jail and place her under house arrest.
Only his idea of house arrest is much more personal than the law ever intended.
An Excerpt of this amazing book.......
She was really freezing. Michael even opened his jacket and wrapped it around her as best he could to keep her warm. Through their kisses, all their kisses in the last however many minutes, she’d grown colder by the second. She needed to get inside or at the very least put the damn hat back on, but she was stubborn and full of pride.
He couldn’t blame her. He was too when it came to his ball club. He loved them when they sucked, and he loved them when they were on top of their game. It made the winning all the sweeter.
He nipped at her tongue, a little harder than he’d intended. When she lifted her head and eased her grip on the back of his hair, he smiled at the bright pink of her frozen face. “We need to get you inside.”
“And my legs are solid ice.”
“Can you walk?” She slid off him as she spoke, the move slow as she unbent her own legs from their curled position.
He took her proffered hand, doing his level best to stand on his own as much as possible. If he held on to her too tightly and used her to pull himself up, he’d bring them both back down again. And shit, he wasn’t kidding; his lower legs were numb and freezing. “Never let it be said I didn’t give a lady what she wanted.”
“And what did I want?”
Michael picked up his hat that was now soaked and half buried under snow and shook it off. “You wanted more of my awesome kisses.”
“I don’t recall saying that exactly. I just wanted to know why you kept pulling away.”
“I didn’t this time.”
On shaking legs, filled with pins and needles as feeling began to return, he guided her up the back steps and into the furnace of what was once the mudroom. It wasn’t really hot in the hallways and stairway, but it sure as hell felt like it compared to the winter chill outside.
He opened his apartment door to let her in ahead of him. He closed it behind them. “Hmm?”
“I’m sleepy again.”
“I know.” And she began stripping right there in his living room. Holy. Moly.
The jacket came off first, and she laid it over the arm of his couch. Next was the sweatshirt, followed by two long-sleeved T-shirts: the one he’d given her and one that must have been be hers. He had to swallow a couple of times while he watched. He wasn’t trying to stare, it’s just… Okay, so maybe he was trying to stare. The damn woman was getting naked in front him and not batting an eyelash about it while he was sweating a river under his own clothes.
She left the bra on, a plain white cotton bra that shouldn’t have been sexy and probably wasn’t to most men, but on her, right there and then, it was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen.
She leaned over, using the couch for leverage, and pulled the boots off, then rolled both pairs of pants down her legs. She stood back up, all luscious curves, in bra, panties, and his wool socks.
“Have you ever been attracted to a woman like me?”
She shrugged, and just like yesterday in the police station storage closet, it raised her chest barely an inch. It was enough. Oh damn, it was enough, but his cock wasn’t in agreement. No, his body, his cock wanted her to do so much more, like shrug the fabric covering her, off. He wanted to see her nipples, feel the heavy weight of her tits in his hands, taste them with his tongue. He --
Shit. What was she talking about? Oh right. Like her? A girl like her? What did she mean by that? “What?”
“You know, a girl like me. A…big girl. Plus-sized? Full-figured? Double D’s and double-digit sizes?”
She wasn’t blushing or looking sad or trying to cover herself in any way beyond the scraps of clothing she still wore. She was serious.
He stalked up to her and tilted her face up so he could look into her pretty eyes. “A woman like you is my preference. I won’t break you. I won’t hurt you. I won’t feel your bones under my fingers. I’ll know you’re there, soft and giving beneath me, against me. I prefer a healthy woman with curves.” He leaned down and kissed her lips, tasting her breath. “You’re fit, strong, and you might actually like being cooked for, held, danced with, and” -- he dipped his tongue between her lips then retreated -- “fucked,” he whispered into her mouth.
“Yes. Now.” She reached between them and went to work on his belt, quickly dispensing of anything that was in her way, anything that kept her from touching his skin.
“Yes. Now,” she repeated, this time with telling emphasis.
He didn’t need to be told three times. He shed his jacket and shirts as she unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans. “You ever been with someone like me?”
She paused. in pushing his pants down his hips. “Like you?”
“Yeah, like me. You know, an Officer Hunky.”
“No. I can honestly say I’ve never been with an Officer Hunky before, but I think it might be my new preference. That is if…”
“If? If what?”
Holli edged away from him, reached behind her, and unhooked her bra. She turned her back to him, then twitched her hips from side to side as she let the bra go. It dropped to the floor with a whisper of sound. “If you can…”
His jeans were around his ankles in less than a second, but his damn boots were still on. Shit. He hobbled to the side of the couch she’d just vacated and yanked them off, followed by his jeans and boxers.
She stood in the doorway to his bedroom, her back against the doorjamb, watching with a smile on her face. Damn smooth, cowboy. He told himself he’d been distracted by the sight of her breasts, full, more than a handful, and those nipples…
God, she was gorgeous.
Her gaze traveled from his head to his toes as he moved in her direction. She zeroed in on the one part of his body that was no longer stinging from the cold, and licked her lips.
“If I can what?”
She raised those eyes up to his again and hooked her thumbs in her black-with-white-polka-dot panties. She shimmied them off her hips and down her legs and backed into his room, crooking her finger at him to follow. As if she could keep him away.
“If I can what, Holli?”
The backs of her knees hit the edge of the bed, and she dropped back into the mess of covers with a laugh. Her legs spread, along with her arms, her tits bouncing, with nipples pointing to the ceiling. She was beautiful and sexy as hell. He could eat her alive, she was so delectable and unashamed of her curves, her arousal, her need.
“C’mon, Officer Hunky.” She dragged one of her fingers through her sex, parting the lips to tap at her clit. “Read me my rights.”
Rights? Oh yeah, the woman had rights to him and his body and anything she might want to do to it.
Her thumb replaced her finger, and her finger slid inside her. Michael groaned and reached for the basket on top of his chest of drawers, rummaging for a foil packet, his gaze never breaking contact with the action between her thighs.
She was masturbating in his bed. When was the last time a woman had done that? When was the last time he’d had a woman in his bed? He couldn’t even remember. But this one with the small, trimmed tuft of hair resting just at the top of her pussy and smooth everywhere else. This one with the sultry, teasing Southern belle voice and trust-me-with-your-soul eyes. This one that he thanked the heavens for speeding in his district, on his holiday weekend, on his shift… No, he wouldn’t be forgetting her. Ever.
He ripped at the foil with his teeth and pulled the condom out. “You have the right to scream at the top of your lungs. Anything you say, ask for, beg, or plead for may be used against you, inside you.”
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