Trouble With the Law by Becky McGraw Page B

he was an asshole.  "What did you do, Ronnie?"
    "Wanted that promotion.  I'm so sorry," she said then went still.
    The sound of the water running penetrated his focus on the woman in his arms.  Quickly, he twisted and shut off the tap.  "Wake up, Red," he said and gently slapped her cheek.  She opened her eyes and smiled up at him dreamily. 
    Trace stepped into the tub, then pulled Ronnie in with him.  He sat and settled her on top of him.  She snuggled her face into the crook of his neck.  He grabbed a loofah from the edge of the tub and squeezed bath gel onto it.  The quicker he could get this done, the quicker he could get himself out of the sexual hell he had just gotten himself into.  Ronnie kissed his neck, and cupped his face with her hand. 
    "Kiss me," she whispered, craning her neck so her lips were close to his.  Too close.
    Trace's lips tingled as her warm breath brushed them.  He turned his face away.  "I can't," he growled and scrubbed her thigh with the loofah under the water.  "Just be still."
    Ronnie moaned, his hand stopped and he felt that sound all the way down to his toes.  Her eyes drifted shut, and her face looked like he thought it would when she came. 
    "Don't stop," she said breathlessly.  "That feels so good."
    Sexual hell, Trace thought, as he slid the sponge up to her hip, and moved it over her stomach.  He switched hands and repeated the process on the other side of her body.  The longer he worked the loofah, the louder her moans became, and the more restless her butt became on his painful hard-on. 
    You could just slip inside of her and put yourself out of this misery, the devil on his shoulder suggested.  Instead he clamped a hand on her thigh to hold her still for a minute so he could get himself under control.
    "Wash my breasts," she invited in a raw whisper, as her hand closed over his on her thigh.  Trace didn't move, and she gripped his hand tighter.  "Please, Trace."
    Fuck it.  He dropped the loofah in the water and slid his hand up her wet body to cup her breast and she moaned loudly.  "Touch me," she begged arching into his hand. 
    This woman was a walking wet dream.  One he'd fantasized about having a lot while he was in jail.  His fantasies weren't soft and gentle though.  They had been him teaching her a lesson for what she'd done to him.  Right now though, revenge was the last thing on his mind.  What he wanted to do was find relief from what was quickly becoming unbearable pain.  Drugged or not, she was pushing every button to break him. 
    H ow the hell was a man supposed to resist this?  Especially one who really hadn't had sex in three years.  Trace wasn't that strong, that was for sure, he thought as he moved his other hand between her legs.  With a mewl, Ronnie spread her thighs wider, and lifted her hips toward his hand. 
    "You're going to hate me tomorrow," he grated and sucked in a breath as his fingers brushed over her hot flesh.  Trace knew he was going to hate himself.  Getting into this tub with her had been a very bad idea, but he was too far gone to stop.
    "No—don't stop!" she said angrily.
    "Are you sure, Red?" he asked giving her a way out.  She didn't know what she was saying, and he felt like a total dick for taking advantage of her condition.
    "I've been wanting to fuck you for almost four years!  Yes , I'm sure!" she hissed as she reached between them to take him into her hand.  Every muscle in his body tensed as she fit him at her opening.  Her soft heat pressing against his head, her hot hand wrapped around him was too much.  Trace was going to explode if she didn't slow down. 
    "Wait, Red," he grated through clenched teeth as he covered her hand with his.  "Just relax."  Her hand loosened around him and he brought it to his mouth to kiss her palm then took a couple of deep breaths to regain control. 
    Ronnie eased her body down in the water .  He resettled her back against his front and slicked both of his