I hope many of you have bought and are buried in the pages of my second Montana Bounty Hunters story, Dagger. I love this series. I’m hoping you do, too, because I want to write many, many more! I love the takedowns, love the sparring between the main characters. I love the people they work with and meet along the way—like Butler’s mama and Lila from Dagger. I keep thinking about Lila and her firefighter and wonder whether I need to write something to resolve her love life…

Not everything is roses between Dagger and Lacey—and it shouldn’t be or the story would be pretty boring. They have problems from the past to resolve, and they’re both hot-headed as hell. Enjoy the sexy excerpt below. Lacey disobeyed his instructions and put herself in danger, and Dagger doesn’t know whether to spank her or yell at her. Lacey, as always, takes matters, and something of his, in her hands…

Let me know whether you like the idea of more bounty hunters and what you might like to see happen in future stories. ~DD

Excerpt from Dagger

“Thought so. The issue’s just me.” She lifted a finger and pointed it, and then tapped his chest right over his heart. “The problem is you don’t want me as a partner. Well, you can rest assured, I don’t want you either. But now that I know how this job works, I can hire on somewhere else where my skills will be appreciated.”

He snorted. “What skills? The ability to give a bail jumper’s mom a facial? Quick-change artist?”

“I’m damn good talking to people—better than you.” She tapped him again, and his hand snaked out to grab her finger.

In the next breath, he grabbed her waist and pulled her halfway over the console. His mouth slammed against hers.

Lacey tasted blood. She bit his lip and jerked back her head.

His chest rose fast, his nostrils flared.

Without breaking from his gaze, she unclipped her seat belt and climbed over the console to straddle his lap, bumping into the gear shift and the steering wheel. At this second, she didn’t care about any bruises. She had to be close, had to spread her legs over his lap, and had to move against him, because she knew he was hard, and she had to feel the proof against her sex.

She gripped his shoulders and ground against him, yelping when he clapped his big hands on both sides of her ass then slid his palms under her skirt. The scrape of his calluses over her tender backside sent a shiver down her spine. Moisture filled her channel.

She kissed him, thrusting her tongue into his mouth to stroke his, and began to move, grinding forward and back.

The seat moved beneath them, easing the pressure of the steering wheel, and she smiled against his mouth. His hands slipped between their bodies, and she lifted just enough to let him reach his zipper.

Still, she kissed him, because she wanted their mouths sealed—no chance of either of them saying the wrong thing and ending this encounter. She had to get him inside her.

Then his fingers plucked at her thong, moving it aside, and he nudged into her entrance.

Frantic now with her pulse racing, she reached down, wrapped her fingers around his shaft and centered it. With a breathy moan, she sank, drawing away her hand and sighing as she took him inside. Lord, he was just as she remembered. Thick, long, and just as desperate as she was. His fingers dug into her backside, and he shoved her up and down—not that she needed any coaxing.

Needing air, she lifted her head. For leverage, she flattened a palm against the ceiling and gripped the head rest behind him. Moving faster now, she didn’t care that the car rocked and the seat beneath them squeaked.

Jesus, they’d been here before. Fucking on the side of the highway after a football game because they hadn’t been able to wait. “Feels so damn good,” she whispered.

He groaned. “Didn’t use a condom.”

“Clean. Pill.” The words huffed out.

“Clean. Always use the fuckers. Leland?”

She shook her head. “Never fucked him. Couldn’t. Think he was screwing his paralegal.”

He laughed and flexed his hips, slamming upwards into her body. “Thank God. Just imagining his hands on you…” He shook his head. “Give me a tit.”

She grinned, arched her back, then pushed down her top and one bra cup to free a breast. Before she pulled away, his mouth was on her, his teeth clamping around the tip.

She hissed between her teeth, and more moisture flooded her channel below. With her movements restricted to shallow rolls of her hips, she squeezed him with her inner muscles and quickened the back-and-forth motions of her hips. His cock expanded—or maybe her inner walls were swelling, she couldn’t be sure—but the space inside her where he moved felt tight, raw, so freaking hot. And the tension building in her belly ratcheted up. “I’m gonna come,” she gasped.

He bit down on the pebble-hard tip.

Sensations zapped her. She shouted, jerking against him as pleasure blew through her body. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, but it didn’t matter, because he was moving, slamming upward, his strong hips thrusting over and over, until she hung limply inside his embrace.

When he came, he clutched her against him, strong arms wrapped around her back as he rocked and shuddered.

“That was good.” She rubbed her cheek against his.

“Always was,” he said, his voice thicker now.

She opened her eyes and glanced across the road at the repair shop. Several people were exiting the side door. One of them was Jason-Jethro. Her body stiffened. “He’s here,” she said, pushing against his embrace. “He’s getting in the scary dude’s truck.”

His chest billowed against her, and he released her.

She scrambled across the console, banging her head against the ceiling, her knee again hitting the gear shift. By the time her ass was in her seat, he’d hit the ignition and pulled out of the parking lot. “What now?”

Grim-faced, he reached for his phone.