Page 8 of Crazy for You (Loco, Texas 1)

“If you wrap these up with gauze, maybe you could be a mummy for Halloween.”

“I already have a costume.”

His gaze traveled over her again, especially where the red ties of her hood nestled above the creamy mounds of her cleavage.

“I was kidding. I like your costume. It’s very sexy.” He took her other hand in his, examining the deeper gash in her palm.

“Thank you.” Her voice was so soft, he almost didn’t hear it.

A smile spread across his face as he grabbed another alcohol swab. “You’re most welcome.”

This time when he started cleaning, she tried to pull her hand back when he bent over to blow on the stinging palm. “Shit, I’m sorry. I know it burns.” Every time he wiped away a little more grime, he blew a warm breath across her skin. He looked up at her and asked, “Is that better?”

She nodded, and he continued playing doctor, moving on to her ripped stockings. His erection throbbed painfully as his hand trailed over the top where her garter belt held her stockings. Unclipping the black nylons, he rolled them down, exposing her scraped and bleeding knees.

“Poor knees.” He went through the same routine as with her hands: wipe and blow, wipe and blow. When he applied the ointment, though, he heard a soft intake of breath and glanced up to find her biting her lip.

“I’m sorry, these are gonna be sore.” With quick efficiency, he placed the Band-Aids and gently pulled up the stockings, clipping them back into place.

He straightened, standing practically between her legs, with her wide eyes watching him and that soft mouth beckoning. “And I’m very sorry I hurt you.”

“Which time?”

Finn reached up to cup her cheek. “All of it, except for this.”

Without giving her a chance to respond, he covered her mouth with his in a hard, fast kiss, and the sweet feel of her lips softening under his was enough. Stepping closer, he wrapped one arm around her waist and the other cradled the back of her neck as he swept his tongue inside her mouth to touch hers. Her arms circled his shoulders, her hands running over the back of his head as she returned the kiss, her tongue and lips twisting and tangling with his. He pressed his erection into the soft center between her legs and felt her back arch, soft sounds vibrating against his mouth.

Dropping his hand down to glide across her back, over the fluff of her skirt to the top of her thigh, he didn’t really have a plan, except he wanted to touch her, test her.

Nipping her lip, he trailed his mouth down along the smoothness of her neck, pausing above the galloping pulse as his mouth fastened there and he sucked.

“Oh,” she whispered, grinding against him. He groaned as her movements inched his hand farther up her thigh. He was so close to the center of her heat, he could imagine how good she would feel. All he had to do was remove her panties and unfasten his pants; then he could slip inside her, make her scream his name as he took her, right there on the side of the road.

He heard the unmistakable sound of tires on pavement and, with a heavy breath, stepped away from her. She was leaning so far into him that she slipped off the back of his cruiser, and as her feet hit the ground, she cried out and fell against him.

He wrapped his arms around her to steady her. “What happened?”

“Stupid ankle.” Her voice strained through tightly gritted teeth.

“God, woman, you are a walking disaster,” he muttered, irritated at the interruption as a truck pulled up next to them.

Deana stiffened and jerked away from him. Before he could ask her what was wrong, the passenger window of the truck rolled down.

A red-haired man poked his head out and waved at them. Finn recognized Alfred “Red” Calhoun from when they went to high school together; all the Calhouns were pretty memorable with that hair color, but Red was also huge. Six and a half feet tall with linebacker shoulders, he had been a terrifying force on the football field. Eight years later, he still took up about half the truck.

“Everything okay?” Red Calhoun called.

Before Finn could say a word, Deana grabbed her purse off the back of his car and limped toward the other man’s truck. “Sure, Red, can you give me a ride to the festival?”

There was a pause before Red’s deep voice answered, “Sure, Deana, hop in.”

Deana opened the door, and Finn caught the shock on Red’s face in the dome light as he took in her appearance. “Holy—”

Finn couldn’t hear what she said to him, but it was sharp and followed by some irritated hand gestures. Red waved past her toward Finn, but Deana continued to face forward, ignoring him until Red put the truck in drive and pulled away.

Slamming the first aid kit closed with a curse, Finn was beyond irritated, bordering on pissed off. What the hell had he said to make her hightail it out of there?

God, he wanted to shake her. If he didn’t kiss her again first.

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