When Chickens Come A-Roostin’
The clock read twofifteen when they fell back against the pillows, sated and sweaty on Noah’s rumpled bed. The thing looked as though he had invited a herd of elephants to perform acrobatics on it and hadn’t bothered straightening the sheets when the act was over. In fact, he wasn’t even sure where the top sheet and quilts had gone, nor did he care. He was reveling in the best sex of his life—so incredible that every other experience had been wiped from his memory banks, and only Hailey remained.
It wasn’t only the monkey sex they had engaged in that had torn up the covers, though. They’d fed each other meals—sustenance—in that bed. They’d polished off a third of a bottle of tequila. They’d shared an expired cheesecake pilfered from the tavern’s walk-in. They’d listened to five minutes of thePirate History Podcastbefore getting distracted by each other’s bodies all over again.
The bed had been the center of their existence since they’d locked themselves in his apartment—if one didn’t take into account the butcherblock, the couch, and outstanding shower sex. Hey, they had to get cleaned up after the activity. He’d probably sweated off ten pounds.
In short, Noah had left his worries outside his door and lost himself worshipping at the altar of Hailey all night. He couldn’t get enough of her. The sensual sounds she made—the ones that told him how much she liked his ministrations—spurred him to pull more from her. A blend of sighs and purrs and moans, they fired up his already overheated blood. His favorite, though, was when she gasped out his name.
Whether it was the woman herself or the way he manipulated her body, she was a responsive, enthusiastic lover who participated in her own pleasure by letting him know where to go and what to do. And she gave as good as she got. He’d never been so in tune with another being. If it was possible for a person to fit you like your favorite jeans, she was that for him. Soft, comfortable, and snug in the very best places, and he loved it.
He reached for a water bottle and offered it to her, and when she returned a glazed look, he shook it. “Gotta keep my girl hydrated.” The sentence slipped out before he’d processed it through his cautionary filter.My girl?
She let out a giggle-snort. “Letting your girl dry up and blow away would crimp your plans for the rest of tonight’s contact sports.” She took a long sip and handed it back to him before reclining on her back. The crook of one elbow rested atop her head, and her hair was a wild spill across the pillow. She was perfection, a goddess, and his eyes prowled her from head to toe. The bedside lamp was still on, and though it wasn’t bright, it accentuated her glorious bare curves on full display. It also illuminated her puffy, cracked lip, making him flinch inside when his gaze landed on it.
He feathered his thumb pad over the tear. “Damn, I think I made this ten times worse.”
She turned her head toward him. “Maybe, but it was worth it. What you did to it was far more pleasant than the way I got it.”
He stretched out on his side and bent his arm under his bunched pillow so he could look her in the eye. Unable to stop touching her, he traced little circles on the silky skin along her hip with his free hand.
“About that,” he began. “I have a question that’s been bugging me.”
Those big blues blinked. “You want to know about when I first started crushing on you, don’t you?”
His earlier lust-soaked brain had forgotten her puzzling comment. “That wasn’t the question, but now that you mention it …”
“I saw you during my first visit to Fall River. It was in May last year, right around your grand opening.”
His eyebrows jumped to his hairline. “Where?”
A shy smile tugged her lips. “You were working behind the bar. I was hungry and came inside, but the wait was over an hour, so I left.”
“You’re kidding! Did I see you?”
She shook her head. “No. You were entertaining a line of women perched on the barstools—or they were entertaining you, I’m not sure which. You did look up once, but you didn’t notice me. I think you were checking the crowd at the front door. I watched you manhandle the shaker, got all hot and bothered, and left.”
He burst out with a laugh.“Manhandlethe shaker? Is that a thing?”
Her eyes made a languid sweep of his body. “Don’t underestimate how sexy that is, barkeep. All those flexing muscles? Yum. Makes this girl want to lick them all.”
Heat crawled up his neck, kindled by the ridiculous amount of pleasure he got from her comment. Was he actually blushing? Rather than invite her to lick away, which was what hewantedto do, he opted for decorum. “I’m sorry. I’m sure if I’d seen you, I would’ve noticed you.”
A hint of sadness shone in her irises. “I don’t think so. I was in my inspector uniform. You would’ve have run out the back door screaming.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that. You in your ‘inspector uniform’ could be really hot—especially if you’re not wearing anything underneath. I’d start by unwinding that tight little bun of yours. Next I’d pop the buttons on that starchy blouse, lay it wide open, and lap at every inch of skin from your sternum to your belly button.” He waggled his eyebrows and ran the tip of his index finger from her collarbone, between her breasts, to said belly button. “The sensible shoes would have to go, though.”
She let out a throaty, sexy laugh. “I see what you did there. Well, now I feel much better about that inspector uniform.”
He continued trailing his fingertip over her skin. “Why were you in town anyway?”
She went on to explain how she’d inspected Dell’s that day, and though she wouldn’t share details, she told Noah how uncomfortable Keating had made her.
“Shit! That explains why he reacted the way he did when he saw you on Saint Patrick’s Day. I didn’t get that, but now it makes perfect sense.” Noah barked a laugh. “You wrote him up last year? Why does that warm my little black heart?”
“You don’t have a black heart, Noah. That man’s a snake. In fact, he makes snakes look like cute little geckos.”
“You won’t get an argument from me. How did he treat you the other day when you went in with your, er, with Meissner?”
