Officer out of Uniform (Lock and Key Book 2) by Ranae Rose Read Free Book Online Page B

down, she got up out of her chair again. This time, she approached him and wrapped her arms around his neck before he had a chance to stand. The position put his face level with her breasts, and he was momentarily paralyzed by the sight.
    Her summer shirt was thin and he could see her nipples pressing against her bra, two little points that made his mouth water. When the cotton brushed his jaw, it might as well have been the world’s softest silk, it felt that good.
    “Do you want to head to bed now?” she asked.
    “You have to get up early in the morning, don’t you?” he replied, remembering that she’d be heading out of town the next day. “It’s getting late.”
    “Yeah, and you have to get up early for work. We’d better not waste time if we want to actually get any sleep tonight.”
    As her breath rushed through his hair, it became increasingly difficult to pay attention to anything besides her.
    He made a conscious effort to keep a clear head, even as he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close, pressing her against the front of him, breathing a sigh as he reveled in her heat and softness – everything that’d kept his dick hard all summer.
    “Henry,” she said eventually, “are we heading to the bedroom or did you change your mind?”
    He heard her nails click against the tabletop, felt the vibrations her fingertips sent through it.
    “This table seems pretty sturdy,” she said. “We don’t have to go to bed right away.”
    He stood up, keeping his arms around her, letting his hard cock drag up the front of her body, sending anticipation rippling through him. “I don’t trust this table. It might not hold up – not if this time is anything like last time. Come on.”

CHAPTER 7
     
     
    “Well, I’ll be damned.” Randy hunched down to stare into the ancient little refrigerator. “More cans in here than in the trash. Surprise, surprise.”
    He reached inside and pulled out a beer. It was barely cooler than room temperature, but it beat the hell out of trying to figure a beer run into his plans.
    It was risky enough being in Riley County without showing his face at the grocery store. Here in the trailer he was making himself at home in, he had beer and enough food to last a couple days. Mostly just bologna and white bread, but still. It was a goddamned buffet compared to what he’d had to survive off of most days he’d spent on the run.
    He pulled back the tab and took a long swig of the beer. The familiar taste was a balm to his frayed nerves. His head and muscles still ached, but at least he’d gotten shit done. Turning away from the dirty kitchen and toward the living room area, he approached the recliner.
    The upholstery was covered in stains and a few cigarette burns, and there was still an indentation in the battered cushion where the last guy had sat in it, before Randy had walked into the trailer and dragged him out. A half-eaten bag of potato chips lay spilled on the carpet, and Randy had a sudden memory of greasy fingers reaching for him, clawing at his arms as he choked the life out of Joseph Reynolds.
    He’d had to choke him, to keep things quiet. The trailer was only a safe home base for Randy so long as everyone thought Joseph was still alive and living there.
    He’d watched the guy for days, hiding out in the woods behind the dumpy little lot, confirming what he’d suspected: the man had practically been a recluse. In his fifties, he’d spent his days in front of the TV, chain smoking, drinking cheap beer and pigging out. Given another few years, he would’ve been dead via a heart attack or diabetic coma, to be sure.
    Randy had simply helped things along. Now, Joseph Reynolds was at the bottom of an inlet, greasy fingers and all, and Randy had a place where he could relax a little, rest and plot while he wasn’t directly implementing the steps in his flexible yet specific plan.
    It was unlikely that anyone would look for him here. The police would search