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Fleeing Beauty by Mark Love
Malone is a sergeant with the Michigan State Police, working the afternoon and evening shifts. He is in his early forties and met Jamie in “Devious” where she witnessed the shooting of another trooper. It didn’t take long for things to heat up between them. Jamie’s determination (okay, stubbornness) is appropriate for a redhead. Malone is a good balance for her, matching wits and romantically distracting her as needed. Theirs is a chemistry that works well on many levels. As she gets wrapped up in her mysteries, Jamie knows that Malone will always have her back.
This is an excerpt from “Fleeing Beauty” the third book in the Jamie Richmond series. In the scene, Jamie is outside their home on an early June night.
There was a steady breeze keeping the mosquitos away. I was sitting at the picnic table, a glass of lemonade close by. The stars were shining brightly. It was almost midnight. I watched a couple of bats swoop across the sky. Maybe that’s why the mosquitos weren’t bothering me. Headlights flickered across the door of the detached garage. A moment later Malone walked around the corner of the house and headed toward me. As he approached in the starlight, my heart did a little dance step and I thought again how lucky I was.
In a different century, Malone could have been a cowboy. He’s a little shy of six feet tall, with a wiry, muscular body. His dark hair is a perfect complement to the most incredible blue eyes I’ve ever stared into. I always think of the color cobalt when I see them. Malone’s got this disarming, calm quality about him that will occasionally slip to reveal the mischief brewing inside. Tonight was a perfect example. He didn’t say a word as he got to the picnic table. Malone just reached down and lifted me from the bench. Then his lips were on mine, surprising me with his intensity. What’s a girl to do?
Malone wrapped me in his arms, pressing me tightly against his body. He was wearing jeans and a green T-shirt that fit him like a second skin. The feel of his muscular chest and arms was quickly getting me aroused. Still too busy kissing me to speak, Malone’s hands found my waist. Now he lifted me off my feet and placed me on top of the picnic table. But not before he managed to work the shorts off my hips. My legs were dangling off the end of the table. His lips moved to my neck and he began to nibble me.
“Damon, we have a very comfortable bed inside,” I managed to say.
“I’m in the mood for a little moonlight madness.”
The way he was kissing me was driving me mad. I reached for his belt, but he brushed my hands away. As Malone was sucking on my earlobe, I heard his zipper slide down. Malone leaned forward. He cupped my head with his left hand and eased me onto my back. I reached up to caress his face. Malone caught my wrist in his free hand and moved it above my head. Holding both of my arms above me, I felt him enter me. I was starting to cry out when he covered my mouth with his.
I knew I wouldn’t last long. Malone has that impact on me. I peaked when he entered me and was soon rushing to another climax, urging him on with my legs when he peaked. He slowed his rhythmic thrusts, staying with me until I finished again. Only when he knew I wouldn’t shout out his name did he pull his mouth from mine.
“We can go inside now, Jay.”
“That’s good, Damon. But I think you’re going to have to check my buns for splinters.”
Malone offered me one of those low voltage smiles of his that never fail to turn me on. “I’d be more than happy to take a closer look at your ass.”
He pulled his jeans back on and picked up my shorts. Feeling extremely naughty, I walked bare-assed to the side door and into the house. I could only hope that my neighbors were fast asleep. In the bedroom, Malone pulled off my tank top and bra. Then he turned me around and ran his hands slowly over my ass. Satisfied that I was splinter free, he guided me to the bed. But sleep was the last thing on his mind. After another session of sex, I collapsed on top of his chest, gasping for breath.
“Are you sure you’re not a hyperactive teenager, Damon?”
Malone chuckled. “Damon? Wrong again, Jay. Let’s just say you awaken all my sexual urges every time I see you.”
Mentally I crossed Damon off my list. Malone only uses his last name. Since we met, I’ve been determined to find out what his first name is. So each day I see him or talk to him, I give him a new first name. He’s promised to tell me if I ever get it right.
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