I slam Savannah's quivering pussy to the base of my cock. I'm not only ensuring she gets every drop of spawn still streaming out of my rock-hard shaft, I'm guaranteeing the flare of her skirt hides the intimate way our bodies are conjoined from the two officers approaching my window.

Fuck—tonight turned out nothing like I had planned. The natural attraction that always bristles between Savannah and me was in abundance the past week, but with her spending more time running from me than talking to me, I was certain we wouldn't succumb to our desires for months, if ever.

I shouldn’t have fucked her like I did. Even pissed that she puts her body on show multiple times a night for dirty old pervs, I shouldn’t have punished her with my cock. It isn’t that I want to hurt her; I just can’t control myself around her. Time hasn’t altered the facts. Savannah is my weak spot. Anything she wants, I give her.

That includes my cock.

She wanted me to fuck her. I answered her plea to the T. I gave it my all. Considering her juices are coating my balls, I’d say she appreciates my dedication.

The walls of Savannah’s pussy clamp around my shaft when an officer taps his baton on my window. With the heat in my cab reaching stifling a good twenty minutes ago, I am unable to identify my colleague through the steam-smeared glass. All I can see is the brim of his uniform hat and his partner’s gleaming white teeth.

After drawing Savannah into my chest, I roll down my window as requested. If they weren’t aware of what activity we were engaged in, they sure as hell know now. There is nothing more intoxicating in the world than the smell of raunchy, out-of-control sex.

"You need to move along. . ." The officer's words stop when his dark gaze locks in on my familiar blues. "Carter?"

Benny, a thirty-year veteran at Ravenshoe PD takes a step back. He scans my truck as if he is missing vital evidence. Benny is a good guy. He was one of a rare few who supported me after my father’s death. Even with my mother taking the blame, things were rough for me the six months following my father’s untimely demise—untimely because it should have happened years earlier.

What Regina said all those years ago was true: IA was all over my ass the morning following my gun’s dislodgement. My service pistol killed a man. In my line of work, you can’t get any worse than that. Benny, along with a few good officers like Regina, stood by my side the entire time. It was their dedication in ensuring I didn’t lose my badge that spurred my commitment to my job the last ten years. I wanted to make them proud. They said I did when I was awarded my detective role nearly five years ago.

When I first signed up for recruitment, I loathed the idea of being a lawman. Now. . . I fucking love it. My job isn’t about weeding out the criminals from my town; it is about helping the community thrive. Ravenshoe has gone from an unknown town to a metropolis the past decade. I like to think part of its growth is compliments of Ravenshoe PD.

By evening the playing field between corruption and legality, we’ve created a safe, nurturing environment for both families and business-minded people. With Col Petretti’s death last year, the odds are even better. Ravenshoe will continue to grow—especially with a man like Isaac Holt at the helm.

Failing to find anything wrong with my truck, Benny returns his confused eyes to me. "What the hell are you doing out here?"

My lips furl. “Do you really need me to spell it out for you, Benny?”

Nate, his recently drafted rookie, chuckles under his breath.

“Nate,” I greet, praying he will help a man out. He’s young. He understands that some things can’t wait until you’re in the confines of your home.

“Ryan,” Nate greets back, doing nothing to aid me.

After glaring at him in warning that I won’t forget how he left me hanging, I return my focus to Benny. “We’re about to head off.”

"You done already?" Nate pipes up, pissing himself laughing. "We only got a call from a concerned motorist ten minutes ago. Shame on you, Ryan. Shame. On. You."

If I didn't feel Savannah's lips curving against my neck, I’d get out of the truck and deck the smile straight off Nate's face.

Benny’s eyes dart between Nate, Savannah, and me for several seconds before he finally clues in. “Oh. . . uh. . .well. . .we better let you get back to it.”

“He doesn’t need any more time. Didn’t you hear him? He’s already done—”

The remainder of Nate’s tease rams into his throat when Benny removes his hat to whack it against his stomach. He laughs even harder when he sees how red Benny’s cheeks are.

“Don’t act bashful, Benny. You heard the rumors about Ryan’s fascination with strippers. That’s why we’ve been trawling these parts the past month. You wanted to see with your own two eyes if the rumors were true; now you’re acting too embarrassed to look.” He makes a long pfft noise with his mouth.

I curse under my breath at the same time Savannah stiffens. I've known about the rumors circulating headquarters for days, I would have just preferred for Savannah to remain unaware of them. If she thinks they were started because I was investigating her, tonight’s exchange may be a one-night-only affair. Goddammit!

After advising I have five minutes to move or be issued a ticket, Benny heads for his marked police car. Nate isn't as eager to leave. His eyes scan Savannah's body plastered to mine enough times the throb in my cock ascends to my jaw. I'm not only going to issue him every ticket he can imagine on his next day off; I'm going to scrub his name from Brax's appointment book as well. His back tat will never be finished at the rate he is going.

“Alright, alright. Don’t bust an artery,” Nate murmurs, incapable of ignoring my furious glare for a second longer. “Enjoy your night. It was nice meeting you, Savannah.”

You'd swear he issued Savannah a warrant for her arrest for the way she stiffens. Nate has barely climbed into the passenger seat of his patrol car when Savannah clambers off my lap. I groan, hating that her heat no longer surrounds my cock.

“You told them my name,” she murmurs more to herself than me.

After throwing down the hem of her skirt and adjusting her disheveled shirt, she locks her wide eyes with me. With our fuck-fest launching my heart rate to a never-before-reached level, my shirt is clinging to my chest, and my hair is as damp as it is when I exit the shower. The sex was unexpected, but it was also. . .whoa. . .fuck. . . DAMN!

When Savannah’s attention fails to deviate from my midsection, I follow the direction of her gaze. Her heavy-hooded eyes are narrowed on my cock, the glistening of our combined arousals revealing another fatal flaw of our night. We didn't use protection.

Fuck.

“You’re on the pill, right?” I ask, returning my eyes to Savannah.

She waits for me to hide the evidence of our foolishness in my jeans before shaking her head.

A ball of tension bundles in my throat. “You’re not? Why aren’t you on the pill? Who isn’t on the pill these days?”

“Women not having sex,” Savannah fills in, her voice as loud as mine, her eyes just as wide.

The panic in her tone should increase my worry. It doesn’t. Not. At. All. She’s got enough worry for the both of us, so I have nothing left to give. Furthermore, her admission that she isn’t having sex has me wanting to bang my chest like a macho man. I don’t savor the hold Savannah has on me, but I’m glad I’m not the only one struggling to contain uncontrollable desires.

“Oh god. This is bad, Ryan. Really, really bad.”

When Savannah burrows her head into her hands, I say, “It’s not that bad. There’s a twenty-four-seven drugstore in town. We can get the morning after pill.”

My assurance doesn’t ease her panic. If anything, it adds to her worry. . . and makes her mad—steam billowing from her ears mad!

"Well-rehearsed on one night stands, are we, Officer Carter?" She sneers my name minus the husky playfulness her colleague used earlier.

I swallow the lump in my throat before shaking my head. “No. I just figured it was the smart thing to do. If you don’t want to take it, you don’t have to take it, Savannah. I’d never force you to do anything you don’t want to do.”

Her lips quiver as she struggles to govern the moisture brimming in her eyes.

"This isn't about forgetting protection, is it?" I know she wouldn't cry about something so insignificant.

The chances of her getting pregnant at this exact moment are slim, but I could never be so lucky to have her tied to me for life.

After raking her teeth over her bottom lip, Savannah shakes her head.

“What is it then, Savannah? You can tell me anything.”

I lean over to brush a rogue tear off her cheek, tripling my guarantee without words. Nothing she could say would shock me more than when I walked into Vipers two weeks ago and saw her on the main stage. Even with her honey-colored hair covered by a chocolate wig, I recognized her in an instant. A million decades couldn’t erase her dimpled grin from my mind, let alone ten painstaking years.

I loathe that Savannah works at Vipers, but I hate that she doesn’t trust me even more than that. Alex didn’t unearth any additional information on Savannah’s whereabouts the past decade than I already knew—she was basically nonexistent—but it was the events following our initial contact causing my biggest worry.

The scant information Alex shared about “Abby Rowe” changed the course of my investigation. Her record was as sparse as Savannah’s has been the past decade, but it did unearth her employee: Pete Chester, owner of Vipers Strip Club. That’s how I discovered Savannah was using an alias.

If that wasn’t daunting enough, within hours of me requesting information on Savannah from Alex, I received a call from a US Marshall in Montana. He was also seeking information on a Savannah Fontane that matched Savannah’s age and description—although his investigation centered around the previous few years, not a decade. He explained that the details of his case couldn’t be shared, but he would pass on his appreciation for my assistance to my superiors.

It is a pity for him I wasn’t born last week.

Although it was unprofessional for me to do, I informed him I was working on a cold case that was over a decade old. It wasn’t a total lie. Even with no charges being filed, Savannah’s name is mentioned in numerous police records from her assistance during Axel’s arrest.

My unprofessionalism had karma issuing me a setback with my hearing. The unnamed Marshall’s annoyance was so high, he slammed his cell onto his desk before disconnecting our call. I had a hunch from when I spotted Savannah outside of Vipers weeks ago that she was hiding something. After his contact, my confidence grew. I just wish she trusted me enough to confide in me. I broke her trust ten years ago. I learned from my mistake. It won’t happen again.

“Talk to me, Savannah. I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s going on,” I mutter, using some of her own words against her.

She begged me to open up when comforting me after my dad’s antics. Very rarely did I accept her offer. I can only hope she isn’t as stubborn as she’s always been.

Savannah's lips twitch, but before a syllable can escape her mouth, the sound of police sirens breaks the silence teeming between us.

“Time to move on, Carter,” Benny’s deep voice broadcasts over his sirens. “Dispatch is still receiving calls of a suspicious vehicle. They’re sending backup to our location.”

Not eager for more witnesses to our unexpected reunion, I raise my hand in the air, advising I heard him before kicking over my motor. I wait until police lights are no longer flashing in my cab before returning my eyes to Savannah. Any hope of cracking open her can of worms is lost. Not only is she facing the scenery whizzing by her window, but the massive barrier demolished by our steamy exchange has also returned greater than ever.

The Savannah I know and love has once again vanished, leaving a woman who is only a shadow of the girl she used to be.