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The Lieutenant's Ex-Wife
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The Lieutenant’s Ex-wife
ISBN # 978-0-85715-179-7
©Copyright Aliyah Burke 2010
Cover Art by Lyn Taylor ©Copyright July 2010
Edited by Jess Bimberg
Total-E-Bound Publishing
This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Total-E-Bound Publishing.
Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Total-E-Bound Publishing. Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.
The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.
Published in 2010 by Total-E-Bound Publishing, Think Tank, Ruston Way, Lincoln, LN6 7FL, United Kingdom.
Warning: This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers. This story has been rated Total-e-burning.
THE LIEUTENANT’S EX-WIFE
Aliyah Burke
Dedication
To Sam, thanks for everything you do.
Trademarks Acknowledgement
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:
SIG Sauer P220: SIG Sauer, Inc.
Subaru Forester: Subaru, Inc.
Chapter One
Pete Kysenzki swore a blue streak when he took another look around. Snow and ice as far as he could see. He was in a foul mood and walking off the plane into the cold Alaskan night did little to improve his attitude.
“Deadhorse,” he groused. “What a freakin’ name.”
Clenching his jaw, he shouldered his one bag and headed towards the waiting taxi to take him to his room. It didn’t take him long to get settled, and soon, he was on his way to what he figured was about the only form of fun in the area. Pushing his way through the door into the bar, he scanned the crowd. Music, beer, pool. If he wasn’t so pissed he was here, he might have allow himself to have some fun.
Making his way to the bar, he leant towards the woman behind the bar and said, “I’m looking for Sidra… umm…Bonnaire.”
The blonde voluptuous woman flashed him a wide grin. “Figures. Hot new guy comes strolling in and wants her. Sorry, I haven’t seen her in here tonight, but if she did manage to slip in past me, she’ll be in the far corner, playing pool. Otherwise, you can catch her in the morning at the general store.”
“General store?”
“She works there. You can’t miss it, big sign.”
“Thanks.”
Pete smiled at her and headed for the corner. Why would Sidra be working at a general store? He made it to the corner and quickly determined she wasn’t anywhere around. So he left. Hands shoved deep in his pockets, Pete wished he were back home, in Virginia. This was not his kind of weather.
He got a room at a small hotel and hurriedly got ready for bed. His dreams were restless ones, and he woke up still wishing he were anywhere but where he was. He was hesitant to see Sidra again. He’d spent so many years trying to forget her. It didn’t take him long to get ready, and soon, he walked across the frozen ground towards a building that had a cheesy handmade sign over it reading ‘General Store’.
The store was warm and clean. He shivered again and pulled the door closed behind him. Shelves were stocked full and he could hear muffled laughter towards the back. Pete removed his gloves while he walked, and when he turned a corner, he stopped at the sight of a large man hovering over a woman, whispering into her ear.
Her laughter, deep and husky, sent spirals of longing through Pete. And he knew who it was. Only one woman’s laugh had the ability to make him able to split wood with his cock. Sidra Bonnaire. And it didn’t matter how long it had been, his shaft knew it, for it pressed hard against his jeans. Her head was tucked near the other man’s and unexplained jealousy washed over Pete. Shoving his gloves in his pocket, he cleared his throat and crossed his arms. The couple sprang apart and looked at him. Pete could only stare.
Sidra Bonnaire. The years had been amazing to her. Her cocoa skin shone with health, those slightly tilted eyes of raw umber stared at him from behind thick black lashes. The coal black, wavy hair cascading around her oval face called to his fingers to sink into it. Her full lips, which could do, and had done, wicked and unspeakable things to his cock, were parted with surprise. She wore a pale brick man’s sweatshirt and tight blue jeans which highlighted her curves.
“Pete,” she said in disbelief.
“Do you know him, Sidra?” the man beside her asked, placing his hand on her arm in a proprietary action.
Pete growled low in his throat and lifted a shoulder briefly. To hell with it. Striding over to her, he jerked her away from the man touching her and pulled her flush to his chest. Delving one hand into her hair, he lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her. He thrust his tongue deep into her mouth, groaning in the back of his throat when his senses were swamped by her addictive taste. Damn, I forgot just how completely intoxicating she is. He plundered, sweeping deep until she sagged into him. Then he ended it, reluctantly—for every inch of his body was ready to strip her naked and sink deep where he belonged. Within her.
“Well, hell, I’ve missed you baby,” he drawled.
Her eyes were wide, and he felt another flash of lust when her tongue snuck out and skimmed her lips.
“Who the hell are you?” the since forgotten man demanded.
Pete turned his head and stared at him. Hauling Sidra back up against him when she made to walk off, he let his fingers caress her ass, claiming her. “I’m Pete Kysenzki, her husband.”
He could feel her stiffen beside him but he continued to stare at the other man. “I’d like a moment alone with my wife, please.”
Those dark eyes flickered between him and Sidra before he walked away. “I’ll see you later, Sidra,” he called out over his shoulder.
“You jackass,” she seethed, yanking away from him and stomping behind the counter where she pushed into an office.
He followed her, his eyes lingering on the way she moved. Her stride always was full and confident. No prissy little baby steps for her. Sidra faced him and sat on the edge of the desk.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing? What are you doing here?”
Pete leaned against the doorframe and ogled her, his mind conjuring up things he’d like to do with and to her. “I’ve been looking for you and I have to say, you’re not an easy woman to track down. I got a letter stating we were still married.”
She didn’t bat an eye. “I know. I got one. So you sign the papers and we continue on like we have been for the past six years, not married to one another.”
He narrowed his eyes. For the second time in his life, the feeling of jealousy filled him—from the bottom of his feet to the top of his head—and it was pertaining to the same woman. But this time it was laced with anger and some disbelief that she believed he would just let it go. “You have something going with that guy you were looking all cosy with?” he snarled.
Sidra crossed her arms and glared at him. “That is none of your business.”
“Why are you here? Who’d you piss off at the DoJ to get stuck up here?”<
br />
Her gaze shuttered. “I don’t work for them anymore.”
Pushing away from the doorjamb, he sauntered towards her, holding her gaze. Pete slid a hand along her face, loving the softness of it on his palm. “I think we need to talk,” he murmured, lowering his lips to hers.
“No, we don’t,” she muttered.
“Fine,” he purred. “I have other things in mind to do, anyway.” Pete tugged her from the desk and kissed her.
Sidra whimpered shamelessly as Pete kissed her. Engulfed her. Devoured her. In the back of her mind, she knew she needed to stop it. Later. Just a few seconds more. It’s been so long. Six years, four months, and thirteen days had passed since she’d been in his arms. If she was keeping track. Which I’m not. Her breasts were heavy and her pussy gushed. Wrapping her arms around him, she arched into his touch.
“Pete,” she gasped, running her hands through his hair, shuddering at the memory of the short spikes against the inner skin of her thighs when he would kneel between them.
His hands, large and strong, cupped her ass and held her tightly to him. His blatant erection pressed into her. The ache between her thighs grew. He nipped her lower lip and growled. Pete ended the kiss and stared down at her, his blue eyes stormy and heated.
“Sidra,” he rumbled, lifting her to sit on the edge of the desk before his hands slid up under her sweatshirt.
She bit her lower lip and dropped her head back as he undid the button on her jeans. Her breath came in short gasps when his fingers skimmed over the front of her satin panties.
“Wet,” he rumbled.
Sidra bucked into his hand, desperate for more of his touch, deep within her. She shuddered when one finger slid under the edge of her underwear. “Yes,” she gasped.
Pete held her gaze as two thick digits slipped over her damp curls and into her core. Sidra clamped her mouth shut on the scream of pleasure which threatened to escape as her body shattered around his fingers.
“So wet, hot and ready, Sidra,” he uttered harshly. “And so tight. You’re still so fucking tight.”
Back and forth, he thrust within her, his thumb working her clit. His gaze was intense and burned with need. She reached for the button on his jeans. Sidra started when his other hand grabbed her fingers. Jerking her gaze up to his, she raised her eyebrows in silent question.
“If you go there, Sidra, you aren’t leaving this room for a long, long time. To hell if you get a customer.” He scissored his fingers in her and sent another orgasm tearing through her.
Damn it all, my day just started. “Fuck,” she uttered.
“Oh, I plan on it.” His voice was deep and guttural.
She whimpered when he removed his fingers and, holding her gaze, slid them in his mouth and cleaned them.
“Honey ‘n’ spice, just like I remember.” He stepped as close as he could. “We really need to talk, Sidra.”
Shoving her lust for this man where it belonged, under lock and key, she did up her pants and arched a brow at him. “No, we don’t. Thanks for the fun, but there’s nothing we need to discuss. Sign the damn papers.”
His eagle gaze hardened and narrowed. “You really think it’s gonna be that simple?”
Sidra slid past him off the desk. Moving around to the chair, she sat in it and prayed the throb between her legs would stop. Three. Three orgasms with just his fingers in her and she sat there craving more like a slut.
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you file the paperwork before?”
All warm fuzzy feelings fled. “Don’t you dare,” she bit off, pushing to her feet. “Don’t you fucking dare lay this at my feet.”
“Well, it ain’t my fault,” he growled back.
“Of course not,” Sidra sneered. “Nothing is ever the fault of the great Pete ‘Racer’ Kysenzki’s fault.”
That warning flicker in his eyes went ignored. As did the tic in his jaw.
“Don’t,” he rumbled.
“Or else what?” Sidra shrugged, palms up. “Hmmm? Gonna report me to your superior? I don’t have a boss anymore so what are you gonna do to me?”
Pete moved before she could blink. The air left her when his shoulder connected with her gut.
“Put me down! Damn you, Pete, put me down!” she screeched.
He smacked her hard on the ass and she rose up from the sharp sting only to find the grey eyes of the man who passed as the law around here watching. And they were amused eyes.
“Morning, Sidra,” Matt said from where he stood in the doorway, as if it were an everyday occurrence for her to be dangling over some man’s shoulder like a sack of potatoes.
“Matt, don’t just stand there. Aren’t you going to do something?”
“Are you physically in danger?” Matt asked, his lips twitching below his moustache.
Is he fucking serious? Pete’s fingers were moving along her leg and she had a hard time following Matt’s conversation. Not that it mattered for Pete turned and she could no longer see Matt.
“It’s been over six years since I’ve seen my wife, Matt,” Pete said as if he had the right to be on a first name basis with the man. “I would really like to catch up with her.”
“No—”
Her words were cut off by Pete tightening his grip on her.
Matt chuckled. “Of course. Don’t blame you. I probably stopped you from going upstairs and getting reacquainted. So…I’ll leave you to it.”
No Christmas gift for you, Matt. See if I even talk to your ass again!
Sidra hung there, embarrassed, eyes closed, body growing wetter with the knowledge of what was coming, and tried to imagine what she’d done lately to deserve such a cruel fate. She snuck a glance when Pete took her through the store to the door leading to the stairs to her apartment. Matt stood there with an arrogant grin on his face. Flipping him off didn’t make her feel any better.
She grew angrier with each step Pete took. Didn’t struggle but she was pissed. Furious even. However, not stupid, she knew better than to fight while they went up a flight of stairs. Pete returned her to her feet after he closed the door behind them. His eyes snapped with fury but beneath the anger lay desire.
“You can’t kidnap me like this, damn it!”
The smirk she remembered from days long past filled his expression. “Wanna call the cops? It worked so well in your favour to have him there last time.”
Her palm itched to smack the smirk right off his face. Pete flipped the lock and unzipped his jacket. Sidra licked her lips when he shrugged out of it and she saw the tight long-sleeved, button-down navy blue shirt he wore. He would tempt a nun, and we all know I’m nowhere close to being one. He’s still all too fine!
“I don’t get it, Pete. Why are you here? Just leave and sign the papers.”
He removed his boots before walking towards her. “It’s not that simple.”
Sidra backed away. “Yes, it is.”
Sweet heaven help me! Pete stood there and calmly began to unbutton his shirt. One button. Two. Three. Four. Sidra squeezed her eyes shut to close out the view of his golden chest and ripped abs.
“No, Sidra, it’s not.”
“Why are you disrobing?” she questioned even as she snuck another peek. Like a drug addict, just a bit more.
“Well, darlin’,” he drew out in that arrogance-filled, toe-curling drawl he owned, “I find it most pleasurable to make love naked.” The shirt floated forgotten to the floor and his fingers moved to his pants.
Her knees shook. “We are not making love, or anything else.”
Pants undone but still on, he prowled towards her, his gaze telling her how wrong she was about that. Wetness flowed rampant through her. Her breaths came in short gasps. Her nipples tightened painfully behind her bra. She gulped and stared at him. Just as fucking gorgeous as he had been.
Powerful.
Masculine.
A man’s man.
Wide shoulders, an impressive torso which tapered into lean hips. Sidra’s fin
gers itched to touch him. She longed to taste him.
“You’re wearing too many clothes, Siddy,” he rumbled soft and deep, stopping before her.
“Put yours back on,” she countered, backing up even more. The use of his pet name for her made the determined throb between her legs increase.
A wanton chuckle emerged from him. “No.”
Sidra knew there was no hope when his strong hands slid under her sweatshirt and settled upon her hips. His blue eyes dripped passion and Sidra ignored the last warning her brain could formulate. A low purr slipped from her lips when her hands came in contact with his chest. The taut skin warm and familiar.
“Siddy,” he groaned before devouring her mouth and carrying her to the bedroom.
Somewhere, somehow her clothes disappeared. Sidra watched him approach the bed, naked. His eyes burned with heat and she quivered. But her gaze travelled to and lingered on his hard shaft. Reaching for it, she grinned at his hiss.
Velvet over iron. Sidra licked her lips and began to slowly stroke him.
“Stop, Sidra,” he bit off. “I’m not going to last long and I want to be inside you.”
She swiped her thumb over the large bulbous head, smearing the pre-come before sucking her thumb into her mouth and cleaning it. “Then get to it.” Lying back, she stared at him. Watched him grasp his thick cock and place it at her entrance.
“You know you’re mine,” he growled possessively as he thrust home in one motion.
I know. I have been since the day you swaggered your fine ass into my life. Sidra trembled around him. Her body exploding as he filled her. So full. He pulled back and she hooked her legs around him, preventing complete withdrawal. Grabbing his forearms, she dug her nails into him as he rose up and began to piston within her.
Eyes rolled into the back of her head as her body flew high. Fiery need spread throughout her body, faster than the blood pumped. Her skin burned and she undulated beneath him, desperate for the feeling only he could give her.