Page 59 of Vicious Sabotage

“You’re gripping me so tight.” He bit off the words between drugging kisses.

“You’re filling me.” She bit down on his lip, tugging lightly until he issued a growl and took control again.

She rose up on her knees and drew off his cock until only the tip remained inside her. Then she slammed home again. And again.

He lost control. Lost his mind.

He’d given her his heart days ago.

A wave of hair trailed over her eye, and she flipped it back, giving him a clear view of the passion on her beautiful face. When he gripped her by the hips and rolled her onto her back, he paused, taking in the moment.

“My god, you’re gorgeous.”

She raked her fingers down his spine. “Keep sweet-talking like that and I’m going to fall totally in love with you.”

They both froze as the weight of her words sank in. She started to stutter, to cover her slip, but he pressed a kiss to her lips, trapping it in.

He began to move, driving deep. Their bodies totally in sync. Now their hearts too, if he wasn’t wrong—and being an alpha male meant that he rarely was.

As her body pulsed hard around him, he flipped his tongue against hers just as her release slammed her.

She came with a muffled cry. The hard throb of his own orgasm struck. Hot cum shot up his length and flooded out.

She rocked her hips, taking him to the hilt, and he sank inside her clenching heat until the final cry escaped her.

They collapsed together. For long minutes, neither moved. He breathed in her scent, now mingled with his. His hammering heart slowed to a more normal beat.

“Livia.”

“Mmhmm.”

“Let’s make this a nightly occurrence.”

She breathed out a laugh. Unable to stop himself, he kissed her sweet, laughing mouth.

To hell with one-night stands. To hell with her rule of not sleeping all night next to her partner.

He threw his leg over her thighs, anchoring her to the bed. “I’m not leaving. Not tonight.”

Chapter Thirteen

Livia both loved and hated Badlands’ weekly country line dancing night. The thunder of cowboy boots on the dance floor vibrating in her chest always made her feel connected to the crowd.

The fights that broke out on those nights? Not so much.

When she heard the scrape of table legs on the floor, she was like a meerkat poking its head out of its dirt hole. By the time one of her customers hit the floor, knocking over the table and several chairs too, she was up and over the bar with her Louisville Slugger ready.

Being small was always a benefit in these cases because she was able to duck and dart through the crowded bar to reach the fight. With the baseball bat in hand, she barreled into the middle of the fray.

“Hey! Take it outside!” She shoved her way between two guys standing nose-to-nose.

“Stay outta this, woman,” one growled without removing his glare from the man he wanted to knock out.

She waved the bat in front of his face. “This is my bar. My rules. Get out.”

The other guy picked that time to poke the beast. They started slinging insults and threats.

She was starting to get tense. And she never got tense. She got things done.

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