RenegadeFun fact: All of the material from my teenage spank bank is sitting in my truck next to me right now. Whitney Trumbolt (thank God she took back her maiden name) was the star of every fantasy I'd ever had when I'd been a young, horny guy. Back then I'd been skinnier and much less confident in myself, and if I'd ever been able to get inside her, I probably would have lasted all of three seconds.Now, I go by the nickname Renegade and I'm a member of a specialized task force, along with my regular job as a cop here in Laurel Springs, Alabama. My job is sometimes dangerous and allows me to put my military training to good use. I get to use my hands, brain, and best of all, I get to arrest dumbasses that love to break the law. All in all – it's a win-win. We're not a large enough town to have to worry about crime, but Jesus do we have a booming illegal moonshine business. Even though it's not illegal to make anymore, it's sure as fuck illegal not to pay taxes on it and not keep

WhitneyHot, I'm so hot, burning up in fact. I don't remember ever being this hot in my life, and there's something pressing against me. A gentle pressure that I'm feeling at the core of my body. Using my hand, I move down to where I feel the pressure, and feel hair. Prying my eyes open, I look down, only to see Ryan's head between my legs."Oh my God," I breathe out as I feel his tongue lick up against my clit. His fingers grip the flesh of my thighs, holding them open with his shoulders to give himself room. "Don't stop," I beg him, grasping the tips of his hair, yanking his mouth closer to me.I'm grinding against his tongue, wondering how long he's been doing this because I'm there already. Normally it takes me a while to loosen up, to let myself go and feel. My ex-husband, he never went down, so this is a treat I wasn't expecting. I've also never been woken up for sex, so I'm going to enjoy this while I can. Three ticks off the "never done before" list in less than twenty-fo

WhitneyI'm sitting at my kitchen table with my latest client file in front of me, earbuds in, and Spotify on. When I'm stressed this is what I do best, bury myself in work and let the stress go. Now that the pregnancy has been confirmed, I have a surge of energy I haven't had in weeks. It makes me want to get back to work. Whitney's Weddings has become one of the most sought after wedding and event planning businesses in the Birmingham area. I serve all the small surrounding counties and have handled events all the way to Gulf Shores and Orange Beach, as well. My business is growing, it's become enough that I'm making more money and living better than I was when I was married.Which makes me smile, because it was a big issue that Stephen held over my head for the longest time. I couldn't take care of myself. There wouldn't be money for vacations, or the manicures and pedicures I enjoy. How wrong he was – I've thrived without his negativity.I reach down to cup my non-existent bu

WhitneyWhat I wouldn't give for a glass of wine, but let's face it, that's what got me into this situation in the first place. I'm emotionally and mentally raw after talking to Ryan yesterday. So many times in my life I've had to deal with things on my own. Nobody knew how horrible my marriage was, because I kept it all to myself. I've never wanted to be the type of woman who needs someone to clean up her messes, and that ended up with me in the biggest mess of my life.Beside me, my phone buzzes, and I see Addison's smiling face. Somehow she always knows when I need to talk."Thank God," I answer the phone, sniffing as I say the words. "How do you always get it right?""Because, we were twins separated at birth," she jokes, a laugh in her voice. "Tell Addison all about it. Did you go to the doctor? Have you found out what the hell's going on with you?"I haven't told anyone about my night with Ryan, not even the doctor who just confirmed my pregnancy, and I desperately need

WhitneyI don't think I've ever been this nervous in my life. Running my hands down the jeans I'm wearing, I hope to dry some of the sweat off of them. As I pull my SUV into the parking lot and find a parking spot, I see Ryan's truck already there. That boy is nothing, if not punctual. I look down at the clock on my dashboard to see that I'm fifteen minutes early myself. Makes me wonder how long he's been here; he was probably wondering if I'd show up or not.He sees me and gets out of his truck, walking over towards my vehicle. I can't help but watch him as he strolls across the blacktop. There's something about the way he walks that shows his authority. He doesn't look down, his gaze is always straight ahead, even though his hands are tucked into his pockets. The jeans he wears are just the right amount of loose, the black t-shirt he wears hugs his body tight. The aviators covering his eyes give him an air of mystery. With the boots on, he looks like he owns the place. My hands s