Sex and Key Lime Pie by Kat Attalla Page B

unprepared or knowing he forgot about protection in the heat of the moment. He’d never been so far gone that he forgot his first and most basic rule of sex—not without a condom.
    Cheyanne reached for a T-shirt and slipped it over her head without meeting his gaze. She could cover her body but the smell of her, the taste of her, and the feel of her skin still raced through his mind.
    He caught her hand and pulled her against him. “I owe you one.”
    “Why? You proved your point. You can still make me want you.”
    Burying his fingers in the silky strands of her hair, he forced her to look at him. “And I can do it again tomorrow, when we can finish it.”
    “No, you can’t.”
    She tried to wriggle out of his arms. He tightened his hold. “Is that a challenge?”
    “No. Just a fact. I won’t be here tomorrow.”
    “Going somewhere?”
    “Yes,” she groaned against his chest.
    “But you’re not saying where.”
    She glanced up, her blue eyes studying him in question. “Are we going to start sharing our lives? Is that what you want, Luc?”
    He wanted to possess her, body and soul. To make her his. And he would. But she would not own him in return. That kind of power he wouldn’t cede to her again. He grabbed his shirt from the bed and tossed it over his shoulder. “I’ll see you when you get back.”
    Her laughter rang with a hollow tinge. “Maybe.”
    “Now, that was a challenge.”
    “It won’t be as easy as you think,” she warned him.
    He headed for the door.
    “Like taking candy from a baby.”
    She perched her hands on her hips and shot him a sassy little smile. “I might meet somebody else while I’m away.”
    He grinned. “Yeah. I’d like to see how you explain that big red mark on your neck to him.”
    As he left the room she ran to the mirror.
    Halfway down the stairs he heard the stream of obscenities that would have made a sailor blush. Like any good predator, he’d marked his territory.

 
     
    Chapter Five
     
    Luc stormed into the police station fit to be tied. His head throbbed as if a jackhammer pounded his skull. For the lousy two days a week his stepfather came into port, Ray should, at least, stay sober enough to keep his ass out of jail. He’d already lost his driver’s license twice. He’d spent more nights sleeping off a binge in a cell than in his house. But for God’s sake, why did the man have to pick a fight with the chief of police?
    Luc was already the largest contributor to the Police Athletic League in Mystic Cove. If not for Isabelle he would let the bastard rot in jail. Either Luc bailed Ray out or he would call his daughter. In her condition, she shouldn’t have to come into town to get her drunken father. She’d done it too many times in the past.
    Luc strode to the counter. Marcus Arrusio, an old pal from school, met him. “I’m sorry, Luc. We had to book him this time. He broke the windshield on the chief’s car and took a swing at him.”
    “Forget it. How much is bail?”
    “Five hundred. But you might not want to take him just yet. He’s out of control.”
    “Let me see him.”
    Marcus buzzed him through the gate and led him back to the three-celled jail. Ray was rattling the door like a big gorilla. His clothes looked as if they hadn’t been changed in a week and he smelled like a frat dorm after a keg party. When he saw Luc and the officer, he backed away.
    Marcus unlocked the cell door.
    “Took you long enough,” Ray slurred as he stumbled forward.
    “I was busy.”
    He grunted like an animal. “Yeah, I heard Waitley’s stepdaughter is back in town. Out getting a piece of ass?”
    “Shut your mouth, old man,” Luc growled through clenched teeth.
    “Not that I blame you.”
    His hands clenched into tight fists. “Shut up.”
    “It cost you a hell of a lot of money the first time you nailed her. I figure you’ve got some coming to you.”
    The blood shot to Luc’s head. If his friend had not restrained him, he would have popped