As a teenager, Travis had kissed Cassidy at the prom, and plenty of times when they'd dated. Yet, his memories of adolescent back seat fumblings had nothing on the adult reality.
Cassidy's lips were soft and strong, an exact mirror of the woman. Pulling back her hair, Travis exposed her throat and the V at the top of her shirt. He ran his tongue over her chest, savoring the taste of her skin.
His hand traveled under her shirt and he found her breast. Through the fabric of her bra he teased one nipple into a hard peak, then then other. Cassidy groaned with desire and he claimed her mouth once more. He felt himself grow hard. He longed to be inside Cassidy with an intensity that bordered on madness.
"Travis, please," she said, her words mixing with their breaths, their kiss.
She didn't need to invite him twice. Travis moved into the passenger seat and freed himself from his pants. Cassidy stripped out of one leg of her jeans and then straddled him, her breasts pressing into his chest.
He entered her in one stroke. She was hot, wet, tight. As he moved inside her, she gasped, then cried out, melting into his embrace, and a moment later, he followed.
Heartbeats racing, Cassidy pressed her forehead to his. "That was worth the wait," she said.
Damn, she was beautiful. Every time he looked at her, he felt like a lovestruck kid all over again. As Cassidy wiggled back into her jeans, and he fixed the fly of his pants, Travis searched for something to say. But what? The moment was too big for words. Placing a kiss on her cheek, he let his lips linger on her skin for a beat, then said, "We have a lot to do and not much time. Come on."
Having used a key for the rear entrance to the County Office Building, Travis took the back staircase. The building was empty, save for the night guard who sat at a desk by the front door.
In the sheriff's office, Travis used another key and opened a gun locker. He handed a Glock 42 to Cassidy.
"Have you ever shot a gun before?"
"No," she said. "Never."
"Here's a quick lesson." Pointing as he spoke, Travis said, "Barrel. Trigger. Grip. Point and shoot. Got it?"
Looking down the sight, Cassidy repeated. "Point and shoot. Got it."
Once secure in her comfort with the weapon, Travis mentally moved to the next part of the rescue—the RV holding the women. "I bet that padlock is back on the doors."
Cassidy looked distressed. "You're probably right. How do we get the lock open?"
A set of bolt cutters hung in the gun locker. "These should do the trick," he said, slipping them into a canvas bag with several magazines of ammunition.
"Then there's just one more piece of equipment." Travis removed two Kevlar vests and handed the smaller one to Cassidy.
Sure, the situation was far from ideal. In fact, Travis knew that once his role in tonight's escapades became public, he'd never become sheriff. Yet, as Travis slipped on his own vest, he realized what was really bothering him.
He still had feelings for Cassidy. In fact, he might never have stopped caring. And now he was taking her to a place where they could both get killed.
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