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  I’m confused, both because I’ve just never felt anything like this and second, I certainly have never felt anything like this for a person in law enforcement. In my world, they are the enemy, and both personal experience, and the stories I’ve been told since I was old enough to remember stories, tells me they are all corrupt. Trust no one outside of the family.

  Cops are on the take, just as much as we are. Only, with their uniforms and badges and power, their self-service is condoned. Even accepted.

  As the crowd breaks up, instruments from behind me begin to play, signaling the next part of our show. This is the time when the dancers, especially me, are meant to move into the crowd. Smiling and accepting compliments, and tips, distracting mostly the male onlookers that appear to be without female company or young children, while others in our group slip through and help themselves to wallets, money clips, phones…anything of value small enough to fit into the pouches and pockets sewn into their clothing.

  The other dancers move away but I’m stuck to the dirt under my bare feet. He’s directly in front of me, exactly where I should be heading.

  “What are you doing?” My mother’s voice hisses in my ear. “Get out there.”

  A thick hand on my elbow and Thadius urges me forward on a grunt.

  “That sheriff is looking at you. You know what to do. Go toward him, be near him…I’ll take it from there.” His baritone voice is just above a whisper and it makes me shiver.

  He’s never been violent with me, but I’ve seen his violence with others in our troupe, as well as outsiders, and fear bounces through me whenever he’s this close.

  “Yes, sir,” I answer, my training teaching me that any other answer will at best have me on rations again. At worst, time in the box, which for me is the worst of all punishments.

  With a knot gripping my stomach, I take a step forward and the hand on my elbow tightens, making me turn toward Thadius.

  “Smile,” he grits out, then releases me and a rush of heat floods my limbs.

  As I work through the crowd, I pull my lips into a smile and nod and whisper thank you’s to the compliments as I move by, but my focus is in front of me.

  The sheriff stands in the same spot, pinning me with his eyes.

  The closer I get, the more the warmth rolling inside me takes over and a flutter between my legs adds to the intoxicating moment. I watch as he tightens his lips over his teeth, the deep set of his eyes coming clear. They are a dark green, like moss in a forest, and the muscle in his jaw is hard like he’s gritting his teeth.

  There’s less than six feet left between us, and it must be clear I’m walking directly toward him. My eyes pull him in as I’ve been taught, the sway of my hips exaggerated as I set my teeth into my lower lip, adding an eyelash flutter, my training kicking in without conscious thought.

  “Hey.” A voice and a hand on my upper arm jolts me from the moment as three males in their late twenties are suddenly blocking my path.

  “You do private dances?” One with a Mossy Oak t-shirt and matching ball cap chuckles as his buddies laugh in encouragement, watching him taunt me with a single dollar bill. When I turn, his mouth drops open and he turns to his friends. “You see those freaky eyes?” He returns his stare laughing and running his hand under his nose. “You are a little freak aren’t you? I like ‘em freaky…”

  This is not new. They barely tick my pulse up a notch.

  “Well, boys.” I nod over my shoulder toward Thadius, shrugging a shoulder to my ear. “You’ll need to talk to my father about that. He books all my private engagements.”

  There is shock in their eyes for a moment, then hope.

  “Seriously?” The taller of the bunch with a wad of chew in his lip asks, his eyes going from me to his friends, then back. “How much you charge?”

  The scent of wet tobacco and beer on his breath is strong enough to trigger my gag reflex.

  “You give out free samples?” The shortest of the bunch with a brush cut and a beer gut reaches out toward my shoulder and they all laugh like he’s the headliner at the comedy stage.

  I raise my hand to deflect his touch but I’m too late.

  My gaze snaps left where a hand intercepts the one reaching for me and I see it’s the sheriff, only now the look in his eyes is not only unfriendly, it’s dangerous. He’s far taller than I first thought. His chest seems to have thickened as his exposed arm bulges and veins snake around the sinuous muscle underneath.

  “Hey!” The too dumb for prime-time guy glares at the sheriff. “Don’t touch me.”

  “You were about to touch her. And I don’t think that’s what she wanted. So technically, I could arrest you for attempted assault.”

  “Bullshit,” he spits back as the sheriff blocks my view, stepping between us, the acrid scent of the other three replaced suddenly by a spicy man-scent that has that quiver between my legs on overdrive and my nipples drilling little holes through the thin fabric of my blouse.

  He’s a wall of man, blocking out all three of the others, and I can’t help but drop my eyes lower. His ass fits nicely in the pressed trousers, but he’s not just beefcake. He’s thick, yes, hard but real. A little bulky…burly I guess, like he enjoys his food and doesn’t live life flexing in front of a mirror.

  “Listen.” The sheriff’s voice is low as he turns to look at the two friends, his other hand on the leather snap of his holster which holds his gun. “This is a misunderstanding. This is a nice, family event. You three move on and I’ll watch you go. Or, we can do this another way…”

  They all grumble and smack each other on the shoulders with a few ‘she ain’t worth it’ and ‘damn freaky medieval-fair dirty pussy, all used up anyway’ as they step away, looking at me like I suddenly turned from beauty to beast in a matter of seconds.

  “Watch your mouth,” the sheriff adds as they saunter away, his jawline hard like he’s holding back.

  “Thank you,” I say in my best damsel in distress voice, staying in character. “So many men just think they can take without asking.”

  He snaps his tongue against his teeth, considering me for a long moment as adrenaline heats my skin. Then he crosses his arms over his wide chest. The dark brown hair covering them shifts with the muscles below and his size is mesmerizing.

  He’s probably a father. He has that air about him. I wonder for a second what it would be like to have someone like him as a father.

  He looks safe, like you could curl up next to him and know no matter what, he would be the best pillow and protector you could ever want.

  “Many men are not as honorable as others.” Thadius’s voice interrupts us, his arm draping over my shoulder. “I hope you enjoyed the show.”

  The sheriff assesses my father, then nods, one dark eyebrow moving upwards as the eye below narrows. “True and yes.”

  “Your coffee did not fare so well.” Thadius nods to the ground and the sheriff turns. My eyes follow and see the large paper coffee cup he was holding laying over on the dirt, a large puddle of dark liquid surrounding. I know that Papa is playing his part now and it’s my job to pick up on his cues.

  But right now, all I can do is stare at the sheriff and try to remember my own name.

  “Oh well. Set it down to deal with something more important.” He sniffs, turning back to me and his eyes linger a moment on the swell of my breasts as my father’s fingers grip my shoulder.

  “My name is Thadius. This is my daughter, Kezia. We are so pleased to have law enforcement here to enjoy our show.”

  “That so?” The sheriff considers my father’s overly-friendly demeanor, and I can sense he’s not buying his shtick.

  “Yes, of course. I thank you for intervening for Kezia. As you might imagine, she is the source of much grief for a father like me.” He chuckles but it just makes me cold because I know it’s an act. “Let me at least buy you a coffee.”

  “It’s not necessary,” the sheriff answers, and part of me is disappointed. I want to keep this connect
ion going even if it’s more acting than honesty.

  “Oh, course it is. Kezia adores Starbucks and rarely has the opportunity. We are simple folks, so many things most take for granted are luxuries to us. Here…” He reaches into his back pocket and retrieves a twenty-dollar bill, handing it to me. “She deserves a break as well.” My father places his hand on his chest with a dramatic bow of his head. “I entrust you with my daughter, good sir. If you will do me the honor of taking her for a coffee, and replace yours as well. It’s her favorite guilty pleasure, one I rarely allow. A demonstration of thanks for your concern on her behalf.”

  Wow. He is good. He appeals to the sheriff’s sense of honor and trust, as well as making him think he’s giving me something special. My father knows his stuff. I’m not so much a Starbucks fan to be honest, but I know the drill and play along.

  If the sheriff had been drinking a chocolate Milkshake from McDonald’s, that would have been my favorite thing. It’s all just clues and opportunity.

  I see the veins in the sheriff’s forehead thicken as he takes a slow breath, filling the front of his chest as he ponders.

  He swallows, exhales and drops his hands, his thumbs hooking into the heavy leather belt around his waist, then answers. “On one condition.”

  “Anything,” Papa replies, another ceremonious bow, from his waist this time.

  “I’m buying.”

  “Very well. I need just one moment with my daughter before you go…family business.”

  The sheriff’s eyes are flat but he raises his eyebrows in agreement and I already know what’s coming as my father guides me by the elbow until we are out of earshot.

  “We have two days left here. You will do your job, keep his interest but do not allow him your virtue. Tease, play, lead him on…keep him under your thumb and distracted. Make him believe we are simple performers, do not take anything from him.”

  My stomach knots, I hate when he makes me do these things. “But…” I start, but he waves at the sheriff, false humor in his eyes as he looks back at me, cutting me off.

  “You will be relieved of your responsibilities for the next two hours. Your most important performance right now is to keep that sheriff on a leash, or you’re on rations or worse. Go, get your coffee, work your magic, dangle the prize in his face, then return here, but not before you make sure you secure seeing him for the day tomorrow. We need him out of the way, thinking of anything but his job. Now go and do your job.”

  Chapter 5

  Merrick

  The drive to Starbucks goes by like a flash of lightning.

  After I open the car door and Kezia takes a seat, a rush of adrenaline has my heart coming through my chest wall. Her scent is like nothing I’ve known before. Natural, innocent, with a sexuality that makes me feel like I’m sixteen again trying to talk down a hard-on with a mind of it’s own.

  Her peach-shaped face has barely a trace of makeup, outside of the pink gloss that makes me think of coating her lips with the slick desire from between her legs. I inhale hard, making her draw into herself, and I can’t say I blame her.

  I saved her from three presumptive assholes, only to have her cringing because I’m more than likely coming off as just another of the male species drooling after her.

  I’m barely able to piece together a coherent sentence as she makes small talk while we drive, asking me about the town, how long I’ve been a sheriff and then finally giving up and falling silent, my one and two word answers making her think I probably don’t want to talk to her.

  Wrong.

  Her voice lights up places inside me I’ve never before allowed light.

  “Guess we’re here,” she says, and I realize I’ve already put the cruiser in park and shut off the ignition, although I don’t recall doing either.

  “Yeah,” I grunt, grabbing the door handle and hopping out.

  Jesus, get your shit together. You’re buying her a coffee, not proposing.

  My cock thickens at the mere suggestion as I come around the front of the car. She’s got her door open stepping out, still in bare feet, and I grip the top of the door and stand in the opening.

  “Back inside,” I manage and she looks up at me with confusion in those haunting blue and brown eyes and I’m fucking melting.

  But also hard as the steel barrel of a shotgun.

  “I’m sorry?”

  “Back inside,” I repeat, and she nips that lower lip again and nearly kills me. How can teeth in a lip make me want to come in my pants?

  On a twist of her lips, she slips back into the seat, pulling her feet inside and pointing her cute-as-fuck toes as I close the door, watching her pull at the fingers of one hand with the other.

  I count to three. Breathe, asshole, I say to myself, then re-open the door as she stares at me like I’ve got two heads.

  “You should always have your door opened for you.” I swing it wide, stepping back with a sweep of my arm, inviting her out.

  “Uhh…” She narrows her eyes, her pink lips battling back a grin. “Okay.”

  She’s stepping forward as I look at the way her hips move under the worn fabric of her peasant skirt. It’s handmade, and I wonder for a second if she made it herself, and whether it was by choice or because that creep of a father of hers ordered her to do it.

  As we work toward the door, a slick salesman type, with a cheap-ass suit and unnaturally white teeth, is leaving. And when he looks at Kezia, he doesn’t bother to hide the way he ogles her tits then gives me an ‘atta boy’ look.

  Dumb ass.

  I sidestep around her, blocking his view, practically bumping my chest into his as I bark the first words that come to me. Unprofessional as they are.

  “Something to look at?” I challenge, and he raises his eyebrows on a chuckle and keeps walking.

  I put a hand on the door and look down, suddenly enraged at the way her blouse is pushed so low and her corset too tight. Another half inch and her nipples would be on display for everyone to see.

  Unacceptable.

  “Wait.” I stop her, reaching down and pinching the fabric on her shoulders, tugging it upward, but it’s held tight by the corset around her waist. “That uncomfortable?” I ask and she gives a little shrug on a half-smile.

  “I’m used to it.”

  “That’s not what I asked. Is. It. Uncomfortable?” I harden my words, already knowing the answer.

  “Yeah,” she answers like the admission is a weakness.

  I spin her around and pull at two dangling laces and work my fingers upward, loosening the medieval torture device before turning her around again to face me.

  “Can you unclasp it now?”

  Her eyes dart around like someone might be watching, as though she’s breaking some rule. “Yes.” Her delicate fingers work the metal latches on the front until the fabric falls to the sides and I take it from her and set it inside the cruiser.

  “Better?” I ask as untie the bow of the thin cording that controls the neckline of her blouse. I pull the ends of the cord tighter and tighter until the cream fabric rests at the center of her sternum then re-tie the bow.

  “You a sheriff or the fashion police?”

  “Funny,” I retort as I move in front of her and open the door, secretly loving she’s got a bit of a mouth on her. The cool, air-conditioned interior mixes with the summer heat and it reminds me of the conflict churning inside of me.

  I grind my molars until flashes of white light dot my vision, as I hover like a madman next to her and she places her coffee order.

  “Large black with eight sugars. Super, extra hot.”

  That’s it. No fru-fru whipped, mocha, frappy-chino bullshit. But, eight sugars?

  I think to myself she doesn’t need that sugar to be sweet. I’ll bet a mile to a million she’s got the sweetest flavor on the fucking planet right between her legs.

  “I’ll have the same,” I manage, trying not to drag her into the bathroom and fuck her until she’s unconscious.

&nb
sp; My cock stands straight up as I try to work out her age. Young, for sure. How young, I need to find out, before I end up unemployed and incarcerated with a lifelong membership on the sex offender’s registry.

  I manage to wrap up our order and look around the coffee shop. Locals are eyeing me, wondering who the exotic beauty having coffee with their sheriff is as I put my hand on the perfect arch of her back, just above her ass, and work our way to the door, then open it for her before stepping outside myself.

  “Where are we going?” She smiles at me with such trust and innocence, it’s like she’s melting a glacier, thawing a long-frozen creature deep inside of me.

  “Away from here,” I manage, easing us back into the cruiser and looking over to see a sparkle in her unique eyes. “I’m going to show you the most beautiful part of our town. Well, it was the most beautiful part of the town, until you showed up.”

  She runs her tongue along the plastic lid, a drop of coffee making contact, and I hate that fucking coffee all of a sudden.

  I don’t even know who I am right now. I’m taking a girl—a girl I’m not even sure is legal—with me, along with my depraved thoughts. I’m not this guy, I don’t take girls with me, especially in my cruiser, in my uniform.

  “I can’t wait to see whatever this special place is.” She runs a finger over her bottom lip. “I can’t wait to show you something as well…”

  Holy fuck.

  Her words run through me like an electric shock, creating a new, manic throbbing in my cock as I jerk the cruiser into reverse, throwing caution to the wind as I pull away.

  Chapter 6

  Kezia

  I’ve been playing this part for a long time but I’ve never felt like this.

  I think the sheriff is playing me back but I can’t be sure. I try my best to not look down below his belt, but I’ve failed more than once and I know what I see.

  It’s not the first erection I’ve seen through the fabric of a man’s pants or otherwise. I’ve been taught well, my genetics making me something most men desire. My youth and innocence seem to only entice even the most monogamous, loyal man to drool for what I have between my legs.