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Finally, we were set free in favor of getting a look at the actual baby to settle the bets on size and the like.

We finally got to the lower floor and I hauled her down a side hallway near the bathrooms to avoid the slew of Spanish voices coming through the front doors. Bee took it upon herself to use the tight space to get a hold of my secondary firearm.

“Bee,” I groaned as she cupped my rapidly hardening dick through my starchy uniform trousers.

“The faster you get me home, the faster I get my lips around you.” She went on her toes and tightened her grip as she nipped my earlobe. “Maybe even before we get home.”

I swallowed hard. I wasn’t sure what had gotten into her, but I was all for it.

I took her hand away from my painfully erect dick and pulled her down the hallway and out to the parking lot. She raced behind me, laughing.

When we reached my cruiser, I didn’t want her in the back. The thought of her back there while I was driving was a big ol’ nope.

Instead, Bee was inventive as always. She could decorate my house in a day, so the metal arm that held my laptop and was blocking her from sitting up front was child’s play. She flipped it out of the way and slid inside. “Drive.”

I swallowed thickly and made sure my dash cam was off. Was this the famous baby fever talking? Crescent Cove seemed to thrive on the baby pheromones that were forever ringing the town like fog in San Francisco.

Or was it just for us? For me?

When she slid across the console to get a hold of me, I let out a harsh groan. “Bee.”

She grinned up at me as she flicked out the end of my belt from the loops. “Let’s find out how well you concentrate under duress, Sheriff.”

I should have stopped her. This was an official vehicle that shouldn’t be defiled with…

Her strong, capable hand drew me out of my uniform pants. “Sweet Jesus.”

Then again, we weren’t in Crescent Cove right now. I pulled out of the parking lot and hit the fucking lights.

She hummed a little groan-slash-laugh around my dick, and I was pretty sure I was going to kill us on the way home. I slid my fingers into her hair. I should have pulled her away. I definitely shouldn’t have let her enact such wickedly glorious ideas.

Did I do either of those things?

Oh, no, I did not.

Instead, I guided her ridiculously talented mouth to exactly where I needed her. When she tucked her fingers under my sac, I stepped on the gas.

She was definitely going to kill us. And holy shit, where did she learn to do that?

“Baby,” I panted out.

She looked up at me with those huge brown eyes. They were like molten chocolate, glassy with lust.

With relief, I took the exit to my house instead of to town. There was no way I was going back to work right now.

My road had become the longest one in history. Each bump and rock felt like a crater. I hissed out a breath when she took me deeper.

I parked the cruiser crooked along the side of my house, and then hit the lever under my seat and kicked it back as far as it would go. I cupped her chin and drew her away from my aching shaft. “Bee.”

Her mouth was swollen, her eyes a little feral. She climbed over the center console and straddled me. Her rough work pants scraped across me, but then she was wild in my arms and any pain I felt faded under her incredible mouth.

She reached down between the door and the seat and reclined my seat enough for her to seat herself on my thighs. Those quick and strong fingers had me a second away from embarrassing myself between us.

I cupped her face and tried to slow her down, but she wouldn’t be deterred. She swiped her thumb along the underside of my sensitive head. In between, she gripped me tight. She knew what I liked and more importantly, what I needed. We’d been together for a scant few weeks, but she knew me better than any woman had in my past.

My impatience hit an all-time high and I dragged her shirt up and off.

It was too cold to be doing this in the car—especially when I had a perfectly good house a few steps away—but fuck, I was so damn close.


Tags: Taryn Quinn Crescent Cove Romance