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  August 20, 1:30 PM - Seriously? Cuffs?

  Harper looped her arms around Deacon. The warmth of his chest and belly combated the chill of the storm. Every time the wind settled back down, humidity blanketed them.

  They both watched the storm from the doorway. Belts of rain slithered across the grass rippling with the freakish wind. The sky had the green tinge that she’d seen so many times in her years on the road. Tornado weather.

  Kansas, Idaho, Texas, it didn’t really matter the state. The briny air was always a warning. This time, she’d been so oblivious. Hormones and lust had been buzzing in her brain like locust. She’d even ignored the advisory that came up on her phone.

  And now they were stuck in the middle of a forest of trees in the center of a city. Lightning speared the skyline accentuating the whorls of clouds.

  Would there be touch downs? Or just rain that could drown as quickly as it disappeared? She understood that wildness. And letting the wind take her where it wanted.

  One of the main reasons she loved the road so much was the wildness under the mask of a schedule. It fed both parts of her. And now this man that had torn through her like a summer storm was beside her, steady as a rock.

  She’d seen it in his eyes.

  Forever.

  As if he could actually inject it into her veins like a drug or worse, with the passion between them.

  She didn’t do forever. And she’d deluded herself into thinking that a fling was possible. It should be. Someone like Deacon should be a fuck and run.

  Should be and actually were two different words when it came to this man, in more ways than just sex. Each day she spent with him, she saw it more.

  Permanence and passion, sureness in what he was meant to do—it came so easy for him. The industry would test him, it was testing him already. She could see it in the worry lines that dug grooves between his brows.

  But he was built to deal with them. He had the patience of a monk when it came to getting what he wanted. And she knew he’d wait her out, thinking he could get around her. Thinking he knew what was best for them.

  She closed her eyes for a moment as he drew his fingertips up her naked spine and made a return trip down to cup her ass. Warmth followed his path. Right now she could push him out into the storm and take him on the grass.

  Glory and orgasms were there for the taking. And he’d give himself freely. His forest green eyes with their gold depths would delve into her soul and give as much as he took.

  Any woman would be lucky to have that.

  Any woman except her. Already the love she saw there made her shoulders itch and her gut twist. How could she walk away from him knowing how perfect he was?

  But she couldn’t stay. Not with his career and hers on completely different trajectories.

  She looked up at him, dying a little inside when his mouth came down on hers so sweetly. And as she felt herself fall into the oblivion that she’d only found with one man, she heard the timer in the back of her mind.

  Chasing the clink of seconds and minutes, days and weeks, she rose onto her toes. She was disgustingly greedy. It wasn’t fair to him, but she couldn’t stop herself. God, she’d never wanted anything more.

  Forcing herself to step back, she smiled up at him. “Hear that?”

  He dragged her against him and the raging erection that pressed against her belly. “I can’t hear anything. My dick is throbbing too hard.”

  “So I feel.” She dragged the back of her fingers down the vein that stood so hard and proud under his cock. She’d tasted that, dragged her tongue over it and felt him shudder under her touch.

  Amazingly, she was already wet again. Heck, she’d been wet for days now. Her body had been on board way before her brain, which was unusual in itself.

  She liked sex. Had never denied herself a good partner when one had come along, but Deacon put every other man she’d been with to shame. They’d been mere boys, without his patience and definitely without his skill. In fact, she didn’t want to think too hard on why he had such skills.

  Because she didn’t want to know who’d come before her, and she would die a little inside when she saw reports of who would come after.

  She circled the base of his cock and squeezed. Substantial both in girth and length, he was as ready for another round as she was. Too bad the rain was letting up.

  And they needed to get back for his soundcheck and more importantly, her job. Megan may have been indulgent because of the lust factor, but they’d be shorthanded for the dinner rush. In the end, Meg and Danny were business people. And those responsibilities were just as important to her.

  Reluctantly, she let him go. “The storm is finally letting up.”

  He sighed and reached for his pants to unearth his phone. She could see the green text message bubbles, and the fat clock that was forever keeping time.

  Taking time.

  And she sighed, gathering her own clothes to shimmy into. Sweat and humidity hadn’t helped dry out her clothes. She hopped twice to get the denim to unroll and slide over her ass.

  “Too many cupcakes,” she muttered.

  His hand landed on her ass. “Definitely not. That ass is super fine.”

  She laughed and wiggled away from his hold.

  Her bra was a hopeless twist of foam and elastic so she shoved it into her bag and unearthed the button-down pink plaid shirt she had. It would hide the fact that she was walking around without a bra.

  He stepped into his shorts and underwear, but didn’t bother with his shirt, instead he tucked it into his back pocket like a tail. “Make a run for it?” he asked.

  Harper nodded. “Maybe we can make it to the car before the next wave hits.”

  “So you don’t think it’s over?”

  “No. That sky is way too ominous. They’re going to start putting up barricades.”

  “Ready?” He laced his fingers with hers, and they ducked out into the steady rain. Tree branches and leaves were strewn everywhere. Flowers were bent, and dirty rivulets of water scored the pathways.

  She jogged to keep up with him. “Where the hell did we end up? I got turned around in the storm.”

  He made a visor with his hand over his eyes then pointed. “I think that’s our parking lot.”

  The grass was slick under her feet. She tried to keep up with him, but as usual, his freakish stride left her in the dust. Possibly, the idea that she was a foot shorter than him would eventually stick in that brain of his, but alas…no.

  A puddle of mud swallowed her sneaker and she pitched forward. Years of learning how to fall—thank you, roadie life—helped her to roll so her hip took the brunt of her fall, not her wrist or ankle.

  In turn, she acted like a bowling ball and took out Deacon’s legs like pins. She curled onto her side and couldn’t stop the giggles. Knocking Deacon down was like taking out a tree. The look on his face as he scrambled pushed her giggles into shrieks of laughter.

  He landed on that pretty face of his, leaving a streak of mud down his shoulder and chest. The armor-like tattoo that spread across his back made the whole thing look like a video game wipe-out which only made it funnier.

  She flipped onto her back, trying to gulp in air.

  He crawled her way. She crab walked back at the heat in his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

  “Oh baby, you have no idea how sorry you’re going to be.”

  She rolled to her knees and tried to get to her feet but a muddy hand grasped her ankle and dragged her back. “Deacon, no. Wait!”

  He loomed over her, sliding his muddy chest along the back of her shirt as if she were a useful towel. She wiggled only to find herself on her back. The streak of grass and mud down his cheek and his bright eyes brought the laughter back tenfold.

  When his fingers dug into her sides, her laughter pealed through the air. The entire park was cleared. The grassy stretch of land soaked the rain in like a sponge. She was soaked through—again, but she’d never been more happy in her life.


  He grinned down at her. “You think this is funny?”

  “If you’d seen your face.” She arched under him as he resumed his tickling and then rubbed his face against her breasts. “Hey!”

  “I need my hands relatively clean.”

  “What’s that got to do with wiping your face on my shirt?”

  He slid his hands under her shirt, popping the buttons as he moved his way up and under her skin.

  She gasped and looked around. “Deacon!”

  “I gotta say, the revenge I’m thinking about would work really well right,” he pressed his rigid cock along the seam of her shorts, “about here.”

  “Here?” She looked around. Sex in public? She really hadn’t thought Deacon was the type. “Okay, I get it. Laughing at your guy isn’t cool.”

  His eyebrows lifted. “Your guy, huh?”

  Her eyes snapped to his. Shit, shit—no. That had been the most insanely stupid thing to say.

  His grin widened when she shook her head. “Did you, or did you not, just dust me?”

  “Buffy couldn’t have done it better.”

  He laughed and popped another button free. “Well, since you completely faceplanted me into the dirt—or in this case, mud—I think you owe me a little reward.”

  “You guys have been watching too much Netflix on the bus. I don’t owe you anything.” When the tips of his fingers slid along the underside of her breasts the hiccup that came out of her was laced with a groan.

  She should be over him by now. Or at least less attached to her raging libido, but nope. One touch, and she was jonesing for the man.

  “Want me to stop?”

  They were in the middle of the park where anyone could see them, and the storm was still spitting rain and wind around them. The thunder and lightning had passed, but the idea of being under him with an open sky as their canopy was thrilling.

  She lifted her mouth to his, curling her leg around his hip. His cock dug into her thigh through both of their sodden shorts. He rolled his hips until the length of him tucked into the heart of her. The friction was just enough to get her revved again.

  His braced his hand beside her head and the other flicked open another button. He tore his mouth off of hers and found her breast, sucking hard on the tip.

  His name was a cry on the wind, but she was already past the point of no return. She fumbled for his shorts. “Inside me.”

  “Here?”

  “You wanted it here, right?”

  “I—”

  She cupped his balls then his shaft, dragging him out of the zipper and against her belly. “In the rain. Right here.”

  He squeezed her breast and groaned. She could see the indecision there. When he flicked the switch from careful Deacon to the wild man that had come at her in the shed, she smiled. Before she could talk herself out of it, she reached above her head for her bag.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I may be willing to have outdoor sex with you, but I need a condom.”

  “Oh, right.” He reached down his leg to his pocket then held up a packet.

  “I love when you get all Boy Scout on me.”

  He growled into her neck and nipped her ear. “I knew one wouldn’t be enough.”

  She laughed and arched under him, rubbing her exposed breast against his rain-slick chest. “I’ve got three in my purse.”

  “You’re going to kill me,” he said on a groan.

  She let him go and dragged her shorts down. Trying not to think about where they were and just how long of a shower she was going to need after this bunch of crazy, she cried out when he was suddenly there.

  The blunt head of his cock slid over her lips as he arrowed down and then thrust fully inside of her. Leaving the civilized half of herself back at the venue, she rose up at each thrust. The down thrust buzzed against every exposed part of her, and when he was so deep inside her she couldn’t breathe, he rocked against her clit.

  The rain misted her face as he curled around her and tucked his arms under her back to get to her waist. When he tipped her up and he went even deeper, she locked her ankles behind his ass and gloried in the feel of Deacon going at her full throttle.

  Cognizant of his still healing flesh at the back of her mind somewhere, she speared her hands into his shorts and felt each flex of muscle as he fucked her in the wide open. Primal as the earth beneath her, she’d never felt so free or so out of control.

  When he rolled his hips in a methodical circle, she slid one hand up to his hair to grip it hard as her body spiraled. She clenched around him as she chased pleasure once more.

  Nothing before had been like it was with Deacon.

  She dragged him down to her mouth to drown the scream that wouldn’t stay inside her. Spots danced, and the world went into a vacuum for a moment.

  And then she heard a whoop-whoop blast. Her eyes flew open and the swirling blue lights danced around Deacon. He caged her down as he looked over and swore.

  “Hold it right there!” Came a very pissed off voice.

  “You have got to be fucking kidding me.”

  “I think the fucking was the part he’s pissed about,” she whispered.

  He looked down at her. “Really? You’re going to joke now?”

  She shrugged and muffled a laugh. He grasped the material of her shirt together and tried to block her from the prying eyes of the cop. She peered around his shoulder and groaned. This time, it was definitely not for the fun reasons.

  A freaking trooper. That was awesome. She quickly tucked his still-hard cock back into his pants. When he lifted himself off of her, she used his size to her advantage. Rolling to her knees, she jerked up her shorts, wincing at the mud and grass that was stamped on her butt.

  “Do you have any idea what’s going on right now?” The cop’s voice was just under shriek. “We’re under a storm advisory.”

  “Yes, Officer. We got caught in the storm and hid out in that shed over there. We were trying to get to our car.” Deacon held up his hands, fingers spread in apology.

  “Having sex in the park is not getting to your car, sir.”

  “Uh, no.” Deacon smiled widely. “We wiped out in the mud and…”

  Harper zipped her jeans as she whispered in his ear. “Not helping, rock star.” She pressed her lips together to stop a smile when Deacon’s jaw muscle jumped.

  “You do realize that this is a state park?” The cop nodded to the benches that had been filled with people a short time ago. Of course, now it was empty because of the storm.

  “Yes, sir.”

  The subservient tone made her pause. Deacon really was such a Boy Scout at times.

  When the trooper put his hand on his gun, Harper’s back went up. That wasn’t good. Under the brim of his hat, the cop’s eyes went flat and his nostrils flared. Deacon looked over his shoulder at her, and then turned back to the cop and stood.

  The trooper’s gun was out so fast that when Deacon took a step back, she ended up on her butt.

  Again.

  Deacon whirled around, his gaze filled with worry.

  “Hold it.” The cop’s sharp voice cracked the air.

  Deacon froze.

  “Crap,” she mumbled.

  “Miss, you need to come out where I can see you.”

  “May I help her up?” Deacon asked in a careful voice.

  “Stay there.”

  Harper rolled onto her knees and glanced from the cop to Deacon. Of course they had to get in trouble with the smallest trooper ever. To him, Deacon probably looked like a threat.

  Rippling muscles, almost six and a half feet tall, streaked with mud, oh and tattooed.

  Troopers around here were definitely of the act first, ask questions later variety. She knew firsthand. “Okay, officer. We’re really sorry that we—”

  “Got caught?” he sneered.

  “Well, yeah,” she answered. When Deacon flashed her a look, she had to shut down the laugh that was building. Only they would get caug
ht having sex outside.

  “Get on your knees.” The cop leveled his gun on Deacon.

  “What?” Deacon’s voice rose.

  Her heart skipped a beat. “Let’s not get crazy here. We’re sorry, okay?”

  “You’re under arrest for public indecency and public lewdness. You have the right to remain silent…” The rest of the Miranda rights fuzzed in her head.

  Wait. Arrested? Okay, now there was definitely cause for a fine. Or even a stern lecture. She stepped forward, and the gun swung her way.

  “We have to get back to work. We’re over at the…” Shit, what was the name of the venue? The gun pointed at her fizzled out any smarts she normally had.

  “The Galaxa,” Deacon said helpfully.

  “Yes! That’s it. We were just out to do a fun thing for the show tonight. This is Deacon McCoy. He’s opening tonight at the show for Rebel Rage.”

  “So you think this exempts you? That he’s a musician and that makes it okay?”

  Uh, yes?

  Probably not the right answer, Harper Lee.

  * * *

  The cop reached behind him and came up with cuffs. “Put your nose on the ground and hands on your head.”

  Deacon sighed and lowered himself back onto the soaking wet grass. Rain still misted the area, but the worst of the storm was dissipating.

  The press of the officer’s knee in his back and bite of metal around his wrist made the situation a helluva lot more real now. Especially when his wrists were a bit too big for regulation cuffs. The price of his big body. But damn if they didn’t do the job.

  Mini Cop hooked an arm through his. “Up.”

  He gritted his teeth. He wasn’t a fucking dog. With the rain dissipating, people started coming outdoors again. The minute he saw someone lift a phone, he swore.

  This wasn’t going to be good.

  At all.

  Deacon helped the trooper by staggering to his feet. With his hands behind his back, his balance wasn’t what it usually was.

  “Miss, I need you to follow me to the car.”

  “I need my purse.”

  The squawk of a radio at his shoulder made the cop stiffen. “Leave it.”

  Harper reached for her purse and Mini Cop barked another order for her to stand still. What the hell? Did he think they were going to make a run for it? Or that she had a gun in her bag?