The Lady and the Lawman by Jennifer Zane Page A

she couldn’t move, but he could
feel her every curve along his length. He wedged one thigh between
hers, feeling her shape, even between the thick layers of petticoats.
One hand tangled in her hair at the back of her neck, the other on
top of a breast she’d so seductively shown him. He stroked the
white roundness as his mouth devoured hers. He felt her nipple
tighten in response beneath the lacy fabric.
    The
fabric was a damn impediment. He tucked his fingers into the corset
and lifted her plump flesh up and out of its confines so her nipple
was exposed to the air, his gaze, his mouth. It was as he'd imagined.
Large, a beautiful blush color, and erect. He stared at the pink tip
for a moment or two, then he brushed his
fingers over, then caressed the small peak into an even tighter bud.
    She
cried out, her eyes falling closed, which made her press more fully
into his palm. “Oh!”
    He
groaned then returned his mouth to hers, plunging his tongue inside
to tangle with hers. Through his haze of lust, he heard her soft moan
of pleasure, and that pushed him on. She felt the heat of their
attraction as much as he did. He had no doubt.
    So
intent on her mouth and her pebble hard nipple, he didn’t notice
the cold metal pressed firmly against his temple, which was like a
splash of cold water on his libido.
    He
looked to the right, only making matters worse by turning his face
into the gun. His gun. Now all he saw was the dark barrel pointed
squarely between his eyes.
    “ What
the hell?” His mouth was just above hers, her breath mixing with
his. One hand still covered her exposed breast.
    “ Don’t
move,” she demanded shakily.
    He
had to downplay the situation. “Darlin', you don't need to put a
gun to my head to keep me right here.”
    Her
lips pinched and anger flared in her eyes, replacing that beautiful
look of arousal on which he'd been working so diligently. Clearly,
his comment hadn't diffused the situation.
    He
couldn’t believe what was happening. He was being held up by a
prostitute, with his own gun! Whatever her plan though, it had many
holes. He was lying on top of her. She obviously didn’t know having
over two hundred pounds of man lying on top of you was not a good way
to escape. She also hadn’t cocked the gun, so it wasn’t
dangerous—yet. But a woman with a loaded weapon in her right mind
was dangerous enough. A woman like Maggie might be downright lethal.
He decided to play along, for now.
    “ I’ll
do what you say, but do you want me to leave my hand here?” He
tweaked her nipple ever so slightly, watching as her eyes blurred
briefly, then refocused.
    She
blushed and the gun wavered a bit in her hand. Even holding him at
gunpoint, she was able to blush. Remarkable. “What is your odd
obsession with my breasts?” she asked. Her voice had a snap to it
he would have found appealing if the situation was a little
different.
    “ Are
you serious?” Clearly she had no idea of her appeal. Or the effect
her ample bosom had on a man. On him.
    She
fiddled with the gun and cocked it.
    “ All
right, stay calm. You don’t need to shoot. Why don’t you just
tell me what you want?” he asked calmly, trying to ease his loaded
gun away from his face with words instead of muscle.
    And
just like that, her bravado melted. Maggie started to cry, tears
slipping from the corners of her eyes and down her pale cheeks.
    “ Let
me up.” She pressed her free hand against his chest and tried to
push him off of her, the gun now a limp prop.
    He
wouldn’t budge. He easily took the gun from her without a fight and
placed it on the floor out of her reach, just in case. Taking a deep
breath of relief, he said, “Not until you tell me what’s going
on.”
    He
kept his voice relaxed, considering the situation. If a man had
pointed a gun at him, he would have killed him by now. But, then, he
wouldn’t be in a bed lying on top of a man either.
    She
started to cry in earnest, nose red, sobbing and trying to gulp in
air.