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Push her up against the car and take her, the bear whispered. He absolutely ached to touch her, squeeze her, slide his lips along her neck and listen to the noises she made...
“Are you okay?” she asked.
Ash swallowed, then cleared his throat.
“Please just get back in the car,” he managed to say.
The girl gave him a long look, her deep hazel eyes examining him from head to toe. Then she turned and got back in the car.
She looked just as good from behind, and Ash savored watching the sensual swell of her ass as she stepped away.
Then Ash collected himself, walked up to the car, and bent down.
“Hi, ma’am,” he said. He had to rescue this interaction, somehow. It had already gone pretty far off the rails, but he still needed to act professional.
Somehow.
“Are you aware of the speed limit in Cascadia?” he asked, adjusting his hat.
The girl turned slightly pink and her eyes searched the road ahead.
“Actually, no,” she said, sounding embarrassed.
“It’s seventy,” Ash said. He was doing his best to sound stern, but there was something off in the girl’s manner. When he’d first seen her, she’d been jumpy, almost terrified, and now she didn’t seem bothered that she was getting a traffic ticket. In fact, she seemed almost relieved.
“According to my radar gun, you were doing at least ninety-five.”
At that, her eyebrows shot up. She looked genuinely surprised.
“Holy shit, I was?”
Ash couldn’t help but smile. Beyond the fact that this girl was smoking hot, she had a half-innocent, half-feisty attitude that he found charming.
“You were,” he told her. “Actually, our radar guns are kind of old and they get squirrely around ninety-five, so you might have been going faster.”
She pinched the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger.
“Fuck,” she muttered.
“License and registration, please?”
She leaned over to the glovebox and pulled it open, revealing a veritable cache of papers and sunscreen bottles, and just pulled the whole mess out and onto the passenger seat.
“Sorry,” she said, her voice echoing a little from inside the car. “I guess I’m a little unprepared.”
“Take your time,” he said.
He didn’t mind watching her ass as she leaned over. He didn’t mind at all.
At last, she came back with a piece of paper that was partly translucent and slightly greasy.
“I think some sunscreen got spilled on that,” she said sheepishly. “It gets really hot in the glovebox, and then it sort of explodes everywhere.”
He nodded, looking down at the paper.
Cora Sapphire Leighton.
“You’re from Virginia?”
