But I didn’t get the chance because Brady kneaded my ass, urging me closer. When I settled flush against his lap, his dick pushed right between my thighs, lined up perfectly with the seam on my jeans, and I stopped thinking altogether. He was so thick and hard, and the prospect of coming felt so good that I didn’t even care how embarrassing it would be to get off while dry humping my nemesis on top of a hay bale.
I moved, grinding and seeking.Just like this.
Brady’s breath shuddered out of him roughly, breaking our kiss and giving reality a moment to intrude. But then he groaned, “Fuck. Keep doing that. Holy shit, you feel good.”
So we kept going, eyes closed, mouths grazing, bodies straining. I rode his erection and listened to this golden boy breathe out filthy words against my lips. Telling me how hard he was and how amazing I felt, how perfect I wasjust like this.
My orgasm broke over me like I was under a waterfall. One second, I was standing in a pool of water, wet and wanting, and the next, I was a gasping, drowning wreck getting tossed around beneath the force of it. I should have known nothing about being with Brady would be gentle or coaxing or delicate. The pleasure was as subtle as a battering ram, just like the man himself.
My lips dragged along his cheek on a soft moan. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and held on as Brady cursed beneath me. But the sound of his voice was far away, above the water and out of my reach.
Our heavy breaths registered first, and I realized we’d stopped moving. Brady still held me tightly to him, and I was clutching him back just as fiercely. But the reason we’d stopped was because I had—very obviously—had an orgasm, fully clothed and fancy-free. I had one single perfect moment of utter panic before the sounds of tires spinning and gravel spitting interrupted.
Oh shit. The stakeout.
Rising quickly onto my knees, I peered over the hay-bale wall to see a car speeding out of the orchard’s parking lot. Taillights flashed just before my vision did the same. Brady popped up to see what was going on, and the crown of his head connected soundly with my chin.
I winced and drew back, eyes squeezing shut. “Ow.”
“Shit,” Brady muttered, hands gently cupping my cheeks. “I’m sorry. Are you okay?”
I opened my eyes as he continued prodding my chin and jaw. “Yeah, I’m fine.” I brushed his hands away, and he frowned. “Did you see the car?”
Brady turned to look in the direction the vehicle had taken off, and I knew by the way his shoulders fell that he hadn’t seen a thing. He’d been too preoccupied by me.
We’d both been distracted.
And we had no one to blame but ourselves.
nine
BRADY
I tried to keep my focus on my phone conversation with the sheriff’s office, but I was too aware of Mac pacing nearby. And what we’d been doing before being interrupted.
“I’m sorry. What was that?” I asked the woman to repeat her question, forcing my eyes away from Mac’s disheveled hair and smeared lipstick. She looked messy and untethered and fucking perfect.
“Are you in danger? Is the trespasser still on the property?” the dispatcher asked.
Clearing my throat, I replied, “No, ma’am. They’ve fled the scene.”
I watched as Mac worked to piece herself back together, stacking her bricks and putting her walls back into place. But there was no way I could wipe away the memory of her coming on my lap. The heat of her, the spicy-sweet scent, the way her thighs had gripped my hips.Jesus.
I forced myself to look away again and finished up with the call a few minutes later. “They’re sending someone out.”
“Okay. Good.” Mac wouldn’t meet my gaze. Her cheeks were somewhere between rosy pink and violent red, and if I was a betting man, I’d say it wasn’t the cold causing her flush.
“Do I need to stay for this part?” she asked.
I frowned. “Of course. They’ll want your statement as a witness.”
“Right.” She blew out a breath.
“You might want to ...” I gestured to my mouth. “Your lipstick is ...”
“All over your face,” she finished for me and then started using her thumb to wipe away the evidence.
But there was no wishing this away or pretending nothing happened. She could fight it all she wanted, but things had definitely escalated. Stakeout make-out for the win.
