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She stood for a moment in the foyer, the file on Thomas Buckley, aka “Tommy Bucks,” suddenly heavy in her grip. There were rules. There was protocol. Even before she drove down to the U.S. Marshal’s office, she knew what she was going to do. At first, she’d found Marshal Raylan Givens arrogant and cocky on a good day, downright dangerous on the bad ones. But she soon had to admit that he was GOOD at his job. He was especially good at getting the really bad ones. And in her hand was one of them.
She sighed and made her way to the bullpen where the Deputies had their respective desks. Raylan was the only one there when she entered, staring intently at the monitor in front of him, looking up in slight surprise when she approached. His eyes darted to her hand, and something between a smirk and a grin graced his unshaven but still ridiculously handsome face. “Looks like you’ve got something I want. Detective.”
For some reason, a tiny thrill rippled through her nerves. She bit back her initial response and instead offered the folder to Raylan. “We both know damn well that I shouldn’t give this directly to you.”
He reached for the file, long fingers brushing over her thumb as he did. Instead of opening it right away, he sat back, letting the file rest in his lap. “Yet, you are.”
She nodded. “I am. Because you move faster than the paperwork. And he’s a bastard.”
Just a bit of humor crept into the Marshal’s eyes and his mouth quirked up at the corner as he nodded. “Yeah. He is.” Flipping open the file, he scanned the top page. Suddenly, his steel-blue eyes were full of intensity and focused on her. Slapping the file closed, he grabbed it and jumped up. Holding the file up he stepped around his desk, “How old is this information?” he demanded.
Thankfully, she’d stopped being intimidated by his height months ago. She stood firm, unwavering under his gaze, she responded quickly, “Less than an hour.”
Before she could react, his hand was gripping the back of her neck, and his mouth covered hers. His lips were warm and soft but by the time her brain caught up, he had already spun back to his desk, donned his ever-present cowboy hat, and was putting his arm through his sport coat. It was wildly uncommon dress for the heat of Miami, but the man could pull off the look like no one else. “You ridin?” he asked as he started for the door.
She shook her head. “This one’s yours Marshal. Just don’t do anything stupid.”
He smiled at her and gave her a wink. “Me? Never.” His long legs carried him to the door, he turned back and held up the file. “I’ll get this back to you.”
“Go.” She waved her hand at him. The clock was ticking.
She’d gotten back to her precinct and Raylan Givens and Tommy Bucks were forgotten for the remainder of the day. She’d expected something to come over the radio about a shoot-out, or a body falling from the roof only to be hit by a bus moments before impact. This kind of thing happened more often when Marshal Givens was involved. However, she spent the rest of the day in interrogation and working on reports. She wished she’d gone with him.
Once she was home, her thoughts drifted to the Kentucky native. Raylan Givens was sharp, strong, and very funny when he wanted to be. All she could think about was that moment, barely a heartbeat, when his lips were against hers. Her core had lit up and had been smoldering ever since. Damn him.
She leaned back onto her couch with a heavy sigh. A solid knock on her door startled her upright. Grabbing her pistol from the coffee table (it was always within reach) she approached her front door and glanced through the peephole. She paused a moment then pulled open the door to find Raylan on the other side. “Marshal.” She couldn’t keep the surprise out of her voice. “What happened?”
He gave her a look that she’d never seen before. It was a comical combination of offense and mock shock. “Why does everyone ask me that?”
“Because we’re not allowed to ask who you killed anymore.”
“Fair. Can I come in?”
“Oh! Yes.” She stepped back to allow him inside. As he passed, he handed her the file.
“As promised.” He grinned as she took it. “Hopefully you don’t take any heat for it?”
She shook her head and led him to the kitchen at the back of her house. “None so far. As long as you didn’t blow him away in broad daylight, I’m good.” She opened the refrigerator door. “Beer?”
He sat at one of the stools of her breakfast bar. “Please.” Removing his hat, he dropped it on the counter.
She grabbed two bottles and sat in the empty stool and handed the marshal a bottle. She popped the top of her own and took a drink. She pretended not to notice that he was watching her. “So, what happened? Did you find him?”
He raised his eyebrows quickly and adjusted his feet, “Yes. Yes I did.” He took a pull of his own beer and let his lips make a slight smacking sound. “It was a very pleasant conversation.”
“Do tell.”
“Well,” he took another pull. “I found him at the swanky hotel he’s living in right now and I told him he had to go. And that he had 24 hours to do so.”
“Or what?” she asked, knowing the most likely answer.
“That I’d shoot him.”
“Well, you’re nothing if not consistent.”
“One of my better qualities.” He grinned at her over the bottle.
She smiled back, she couldn’t help it. “I’m just going to stay quiet on that one.”
“Probably best.” Raylan responded dryly, but his eyes were almost sparkling with humor. It was a look she hadn’t seen very often. “I do have another reason for stopping by.”
“Oh?”
“When I said earlier that you have something I want, I didn’t mean the file.”
She was silent. “What did you--“
Just like in the bullpen, he reached out and pulled her close to kiss her. This time, he didn’t release her as quickly. He held firm, his tongue gently brushing along her lower lip.
This time, she responded instantly, she parted her lips and the kiss deepened. She could taste him as well as the beer. He was delicious.
She slid from the barstool, as he wrapped an arm around her waist pulling her to stand between his legs, pressed to his chest.
“You can have it,” she breathed when the kiss broke.
“Right here?” he teased, his eyes lightening with mirth, “Or do you have a bedroom?”
“On my salary? I’m lucky I have a couch.”
“I got no problem taking you there either,” his voice deepened as he kissed her again.
She ran her hands down his arms to take his hands and stepped backwards, breaking contact. “Come on,” she pulled him gently down the hall.
“I knew you had a bed,” he grinned, using his foot to close the door. He walked her backwards, gently pushing her to sit when her knees met the mattress. Looking down at her, he ran his hand through her hair while she reached for his belt.
There wasn’t a frantic tearing away of clothes but there was an urgency. Once she was bare beneath him, he grasped his cock and swept the head through her eager folds, smiling when she moaned his name. As he slid inside, she arched up to meet him. His movements were slow and deliberate and before long, she was digging her nails into the meat of his ass, begging him for more. Begging for him to fuck her harder. He kept his pace until she twisted her hips and tightened around him. The pleasured pressure sent lightning through his body and caused him to hiss her name.
Next, he gave her what she wanted.
She came with a shout and the spasms around his cock sent him over the edge with a feral growl soon afterwards.
He had her once more in the morning before he left to meet with Tommy Bucks. He knew that Tommy wouldn’t be gone. But if the day went well enough, Raylan had every intention of being back in her arms before sundown.