“Wait a minute, I’m supposed to do what?”

I looked from Magenta in her V-neck tee, that showed off her tits, not to mention a lacy red bra, to the counter that looked like a bakery kitchen had been relocated. Several bags of flour and sugar were lined up military style, with granulated and brown sugars, whisks, mixing bowls and chocolate chips. I was pretty sure my ears had stopped working, but my eyes, they were working just fine.

Magenta sighed and rolled her eyes, hands on her hips with that bossy expression on her face. “You heard me. Aunt Mae said she needs six dozen cookies, and you’re the designated baker.”

“See that’s the part that’s causing the confusion. Why me?” I barely knew this Aunt Mae person.

Green eyes looked up at me like I was the one who’d lost my mind. “She said you were some sort of magic cookie whisperer.”

“How in the hell did she know that?” Only the exclusive group of smokejumpers knew I was the three-year reigning cookie champ, and fewer than that knew of my other kitchen skills.

Magenta shrugged again, doing her best to appear uninterested, but I could see the worry around her mouth and eyes. “Don’t know. All I know is that I’m the one responsible for making sure the cookies you make get to the community center when they’re supposed to. Which is next Thursday by the way.”

That meant she would be here for one more week at least. “Sucks for you.”

“One week is the same as any other,” she shot back quickly. Too quickly.

“Fine, but you’re helping.” I surveyed the ingredients, and knew how I could spend more time with her. “We can use this stuff for the practice batches.” I had the next couple days off anyway, and I’d rather spend as much of that as possible with Magenta.

“Practice batches? How about we make two batches of each and only give the best of each one to Mae?”

“If there’s a problem with one batch, then that problem will continue with the others. We make the practice batches and correct the problems for the next one. Haven’t you ever made cookies before?”

“Yeah,” she nodded defiantly. “I have. The kind you slice, put on a cookie sheet and pop in the oven for ten to twelve minutes. They come out delicious every single time.”

“Cheater.” She grunted at the accusation, brushing it off with a shrug.

“Maybe, but I never have to make practice batches when I want cookies.” The little tease stuck out her tongue and ducked away from my reach.

“Okay, so what are these cookies for?” I knew small towns didn’t have the same resources as big cities, but I couldn’t see how six dozen cookies could help anything.

“Fundraiser for new computers for the library. So, make sure they’re good enough that Aunt Mae can get top dollar for each one.”

“As if I’m capable of anything less?” I was a bit worried about how the cookies would turn out, since this was the first time I was cooking for my new neighbors. They had to be perfect. “Do we have recipes?”

Magenta snickered to herself, and I wanted to know what had put that look on her face, but I knew my curiosity would only encourage her to keep it to herself. “We have to look them up, unless you’re willing to take off your shirt and put on an apron for Vivi?”

“The redhead? Isn’t she married?”

Another shrug. “She’s also a romance writer, and you are her latest hero.”

Well that was kind of nice. At least I think it was. “And how does a picture of me help us?”

She rolled her eyes as if to say, “Keep up, dummy” and sighed. “She offered to give us recipes for that picture.”

Weird, very weird. But that was easy enough. I reached for the hem of my t-shirt and pulled it over my head, tossing it at Magenta whose eyes raked over my naked torso. “Where’s the apron?”

She grabbed the apron and returned, slipping it over my head and helping tie it around my waist, her hands taking their time as they caressed the muscles of my back. “You’re still beautiful, Davis.”

I bowed my head, enjoying the feel of her hand on my flesh. Her touch was gentle at first and then her nails dug in, just a little. “Magenta.” Her name came out as a warning.

“We shouldn’t.”

She was right. “Probably not. Do you care?” Because as long as her soft, ink stained hands kept touching me like that, I didn’t give a damn about anything.

“Hell no.” The words came out on a breathless sigh. “You?”

“Nope.” I turned to face her, because I had to see for myself that she was as far gone as she sounded, as desperate for me as I was for her. But she sucked in a little breath, and that tiny hitch went right to my cock a second before my mouth crashed down on hers. Our bodies pressed together as if glue held us together, and kept us from spinning out of control. I used my height and weight advantage to push her up against the counter while I kissed her, tasted every inch of her mouth.

I couldn’t get enough, and when she began to squirm against me, climbing my body to get closer, a little more of my control snapped. My feet began to move until I found a kitchen chair and dropped down onto it with Magenta in my lap, long legs wrapped around me and the chair. “Davis,” she moaned and nipped at my jaw, my bottom lip, my throat.

Her shirt was gone and then her bra, and I had a front row seat to the most mouth watering tits I’d ever laid eyes on. Big and creamy, capped with pink lick-able nipples. Hard and sweet just like my favorite candy. “Damn, Magenta. Beautiful.”

She shimmied off my lap and made quick work of my jeans and boxers. “Too many clothes!” Her laugh sounded as she kicked off her own pants and wrapped her hand around my cock. “That’s better.”

“Much better.” I took a long look at her, naked and flushed with desire and sighed. “Come here.” Magenta didn’t need to be told twice, climbing on my lap with her tits in my face as she worked her body down the length of my cock. “Ah, Magenta!”

“God, I remember the way you filled me up.” Her words had me aching and growing harder by the second. And then she began to move. Slowly at first and then faster and faster as pleasure took over, her movements grew jerky and sharp, her thighs quivered with need. “So. Good.”

She rode me hard and fast, big pink nipples just a tongue flick away and I couldn’t resist stealing a taste. The sound of her cries of pleasure pushed me further, pulling a fat hard tip into my mouth and sucking hard before moving to the next one. Listening to her moan, feeling the way she writhed against me, bouncing up and down, coating my cock in her juices.

Her green gaze met mine as she began to pulse and vibrate around me. “Davis you feel so good.”

“You too, babe. Too fucking good.” She grinned and pinched her nipples, laughing when I smacked her hands away and did the job myself. “You’re close. Come on, come for me.”

Her smile was mischievous, and then her eyes closed and her head fell back as her orgasm took over, squeezing me so hard it yanked pleasure from my body. Ready or not. “Yes!”

This Magenta, post-orgasmic, was my favorite. She was cuddly in her haze, licking my sweat slicked flesh, nibbling the hard ridges of my shoulder and jawline. “Magenta.” Her tongue was already making me hard again, and then she began to move, hot and so slick I was sure I’d blow my load before I got a full erection. Being the absolutely focus of her erotic attention was a heady thing. The kind of thing that made a man feel ten feet tall, like he could battle any demons or monsters.

It took no time at all for both of us to shout our pleasure again, and nearly break the chair.

“Wow.” It was the only word that came to mind as my skin sizzled and shivered with her every gentle touch on my chest.

“Hey, that’s my line.” Her laugh was sexy, vibrating against me like a tuning fork. The doorbell rang, interrupting our bubble of bliss, and Magenta pulled back. “Expecting company?”

“You’re the only person I really know here, Mags.”

“Rock, paper, scissors. Winner gets the door.”

“I’ll go.” I stood and pulled up my pants, fastening them as I made my way to the front of the house. The strange man on the other side of the door grinned at me as he fiddled with his maroon bowtie. “Can I help you?”

He cleared his throat and dropped his fidgeting hands. “Yes. I am Dustin Chambers, attorney-at-law, and you are Davis Crawford, correct?”

“I am. How can I help you?” I didn’t rack up debts, and I kept mostly to myself, so this was more than a little interesting.

“You’re familiar with Walter Poindexter?” The name rang a bell, but not enough to pull up a memory of his face. Not that it mattered, Dustin Chambers continued on. “Mr. Poindexter, may the bastard rest in peace, was, simply put, a fraud. We found your divorce papers along with thousands of others shoved into boxes in a storage unit upon his death. He took your money, but he never processed your divorce.”

His words buzzed in my head, but they barely made any sense. “What do you mean he never processed it?” As far as I knew, the divorce had been finalized within days of the paperwork being filed. “He said it would be done before the week was up, once everything was signed, and we definitely signed it.”

Chambers adjusted his tie, looking more uncomfortable by the second with the confrontation. “Just, Mr. Crawford, that you are still married. Have been for the past,” he looked down at his papers, “seventeen months.”

“This can’t be.” Not that I was angry or upset about the fact that I was still married, because hell, she was the one woman out of many I hadn’t been able to forget. No matter how ill-fated our marriage had been at the time, I knew I wasn’t wrong about us. We worked.

“Oh, I’m afraid it is so, Mr. Crawford. You didn’t receive any paperwork that said the divorce was final? It would have come from the Clark County Courthouse.” I shook my head, and Dustin sighed, shook his head. “You wouldn’t happen to know where I might find Magenta O’Malley would you? She’s listed as your wife.”

“She’s right here.” Magenta had on her tough as nails voice as she folded her arms and stepped between me and Dustin, glaring at him. “Explain again.” Even though her clothes were slightly disheveled, and her hair looked exactly like I’d run my fingers through it a hundred times, she was still intimidating as hell.

Chambers nodded, eyebrows dipped in wariness. “Nothing to explain, except that you’re still married. Legally speaking, but since you’re living together, there’s no problem. Here is your marriage certificate.” Any thoughts the man had of handing off the marriage certificate and making a clean getaway were foiled by one angry woman.

Magenta wouldn’t even touch the thing. “No fucking way. Give us the annulment papers. Now.”

Chambers survival instinct kicked in, and he stepped back. “I’m afraid I can’t do that, and since you two are clearly in a romantic relationship, an annulment is off the table.”

“What do you mean off the table? At the time of the attempted annulment we met the criteria.” Her voice had gone icy cold, and even Dustin Chambers felt it if his shiver was any indication.

“It means that this new filing includes everything from the date of your marriage until you file for divorce,” his gaze raked over both of us, having clearly guessed what we were just up to, “if you plan to do so.”

Magenta lunged at him, reaching for his throat and I wrapped an arm around her waist to keep her from throttling the man. “Run, Chambers. Run now before I make you regret the day you popped out of your mother’s vag!”

I snatched the marriage certificate from his hand and shooed him away. “Thank you,” I mouthed as he rushed down the steps to a car idling on the curb.

“Calm down killer. He’s gone.”

She was still fighting though, ready to tear someone apart over the news. “Tell me that didn’t just happen. Tell me that this is some orgasm induced hallucination! Please.”

I shouldn’t have done it, not when my body was wide open and susceptible to danger, but I couldn’t help it. I laughed.

She elbowed me in the gut and I laughed harder.

She kicked my shin and I laughed even harder, even as she shot the evil eye at me. “I guess it’s true what they say,” I struggled around another laugh. “Happy wife, happy life.”

Yeah, I had a death wish. Sue me.