Sultry with a Twist by Macy Beckett Page B

was a massage therapist. First guy I ever lived with. He taught me all his tricks.”
    “My little Junebug shacking up? Tsk, tsk.” He tried not to think about another man’s hands sliding all over her body. Or warming her bed at night. It was none of his business, and he shouldn’t care anyway.
    She laughed and leaned down to use her elbow for more pressure. “I’d rather live in sin with a dozen men than suffer through one divor—” Then she froze for a moment.
    “Say it. Divorce. You won’t hurt my delicate sensibilities. You’re right. Nothing’s worse than being stuck in a bad marriage.”
    June straightened again and guided his head back to rest on her stomach. Then she used her thumbs on his neck and Luke thought he’d melt with pleasure. “Was it really bad?” Her voice was thick with pity, which would’ve pissed him off, if he hadn’t been so relaxed.
    Yes, it was really bad. He’d met Ada when he was barely nineteen, lonely, and stupid—a dangerous trifecta. She’d picked him up in a bar outside Dusseldorf and taken him into the parking lot to have drunken sex in the backseat of her Volkswagen. It was the first and last time he’d ever neglected to wrap his johnson. Big mistake.
    Two months later, she’d tracked him down and announced she was pregnant. He did the right thing, of course, but a month after the honeymoon he’d noticed a package of tampons in the cabinet beneath the bathroom sink. That’s when she’d confessed there was no baby. There never had been. Like an idiot, he’d let himself get wrangled into a green card wedding. He’d considered getting an annulment, but in the end, shame and embarrassment had won over. How would Pru have reacted to learn his marriage was over in four weeks? So he’d stayed and tried to make it work. Bigger mistake.
    Almost overnight, Ada had changed. She’d awoken each morning with poison in her gaze. When he’d asked what her problem was, she’d screamed, “I know about June, your whore!” Apparently, he’d been calling June’s name in his sleep, and Ada had assumed he’d cheated. Highly ironic, since she’d already been sleeping with an officer on post. And not just any officer—Luke’s boss.
    “Sorry. It’s none of my business,” June said softly. Those magical fingers curled over his shoulders to massage the top of his chest in small circles. He wanted her to keep going lower, to feel her firm touch all over. And when she did go lower, ghosting her palms over his nipples, he sucked in a sharp breath.
    “Don’t be sorry. It’s over, and I’m glad.” He inhaled deeply and leaned back harder against her belly. “If you’re trying to butter me up, it’s working.”
    “Oh, I don’t need to.” June ran her fingernails from his neck up through his hair, and chills danced across his whole body. Then she leaned down until he felt the soft cushion of her breasts against his shoulders, and she pressed her lips to his ear. His blood turned hot and rushed right between his legs. “I’m coming out there,” she whispered, “whether you like it or not.”
    Luke forced his eyes shut and tried to will away his erection, but it throbbed in time with his quickened pulse. “God damn, Junebug,” he hissed.
    As she stepped slowly around to face him, she let her fingernails trail along the side of his neck and down the front of his chest. When Luke opened his eyes, she was bent over, gazing right into his face. He glanced down at her soft, red mouth as she added, “If you want to get rid of me, you’ll have to call the sheriff to take me away.” She licked her lips and came closer, like she might kiss him, and he gripped his thighs to stop from reaching out and pulling her into his lap. Would the guys outside see if he laid her on the table and pushed up her skirt? Would she let him? “You don’t want to see me in handcuffs, do you?”
    The mental image made him twitch. “I’ll pick you up tonight at Pru’s.”
    “Excellent,”