Page 69 of Rogue Wave

Her eyes shot open and her voice turned serious. “Don’t you dare stop right now.”

I leaned over, lining myself up at her entrance, but chose to stay there and just teasingly rub back and forth.

“It’s a miracle. Your eyes work.”

“Shut up and get inside me, Evil McTorturer,” she growled, causing me to chuckle.

“Your wish is my command.”

I eased in dramatically slowly, savoring every second as her tight heat surrounded me.

Once fully inside, I lowered my head, pressing my lips to hers, needing to taste her as I rocked back and forth in her.

“Hank, harder. I need more.”

Our hands were everywhere, and at the same time, we couldn’t get enough.

I picked up the pace, watching her beautiful breasts bouncing beneath me with every thrust.

Feeling that familiar sensation boil up in me, threatening to bring me over the edge, I angled my hips, trying to hit that magical spot inside her.

Moments later, we both hit the high of orgasm and tumbled into euphoria together.

With my heart still racing and breathing still a struggle, I collapsed next to Hazel, rolling her to the side with me.

As I gathered her in my arms, I knew she was my person, and there was nothing that could make me happier.

20

“Sharks existed before trees.”

—It’s science

Hank

Hazel and I were on a date at Smoke and Pepper’s Steakhouse. Not takeout. We were actually sitting down and eating in public.

Other than a quick interruption by Mrs. Johnson when we were first seated, who wanted to make me aware that she didn’t approve of her neighbor mowing his lawn in his underwear, the dinner was going well.

Smoke and Pepper’s was set up like a modern barn with rustic features. When you first walked into the restaurant, there was a large bar area to the right and more intimate, quiet tables on the left. We had a cozy table tucked in the corner. My back was up against the wall, and Hazel was seated across from me.

She had on a pale-pink sweater that was incredibly soft to touch. I knew since I couldn’t stop touching her tonight—a casual hand on the small of her back as we walked in, holding her hand as we rode in the car, and even holding her tight against me in the lobby while we waited for a table. That plush, cozy sweater was paired with a long, flowy skirt that I wanted to bunch up at her waist while I drove inside her.

This woman was an addiction for me. Thoughts of her consumed all my free time, and even some of my time I should have been thinking about other things—like cases I was working on.

I felt vastly underdressed compared to her, but I wore a uniform every day to work, so in my spare time, casual was king. I had on a pair of dark jeans, a white dress shirt, and a camel sports jacket. While the jacket looked nice, I wore it mostly to cover up my gun and badge—two things I never left home without, since I was never fully off duty as the sheriff.

Case in point, we had just ordered our meal when my phone rang. It was Kim Boatfield, our dispatch officer, and I knew she wouldn’t call if it wasn’t important.

“I need to get this. I’m sorry,” I told Hazel.

She gave me a small smile. “It’s okay. Life of a sheriff’s girlfriend, I guess.”

Girlfriend.

I liked knowing she was that for me.

“I’ll be right back,” I told her, getting up to take the call in a quieter and more private area.