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“Shep,” I whispered, one hand tentatively touching his hair. It was surprisingly soft between my fingers. “Shep, I can’t—I’m going to—”

He pulled back just enough to speak, his breath hot against my sensitive skin. “Already? And here I thought you’d have more control, Inspector.”

The teasing challenge in his voice sent a new wave of heat through me. “It’s been a while,” I admitted, cheeks burning.

Something flashed in his eyes—satisfaction, maybe possessiveness. “Good,” he growled, then swallowed me down again, deeper this time.

One of his hands left my hip, and I heard the unmistakable sound of a zipper. When I looked down, I nearly came on the spot. He was stroking himself with his free hand while sucking me, his jeans pushed just low enough to free his impressive erection.

No underwear. He really does go commando.

The combination of sensations and visuals was too much. I felt the familiar tightening, the point of no return approaching rapidly. “Shep, I’m serious, I’m going to—”

He didn’t pull away. Instead, he doubled his efforts, his hot mouth working me relentlessly until I shattered, crying out as pleasure crashed through me in waves. He swallowed everything, continuing to suck gently until I was trembling from oversensitivity.

When he finally released me, he looked up with a satisfied smile that bordered on smug. “Sweet. Didn’t expect that.”

I couldn’t even be embarrassed, still floating in post-orgasmic haze. “What?”

He rose to his feet in one fluid motion, his own erection still prominently on display. “You. You taste sweet.” He licked his lips deliberately, and I felt myself twitch with renewed interest despite having just come. “Must be all those regulations. Keeps you pure.”

I should have been offended. Instead, I found myself reaching for him, wrapping my hand around his impressive length. “Not that pure,” I murmured, enjoying his sharp intake of breath as I stroked him.

His skin was impossibly hot, as though he was burning up from the inside. Pre-cum beaded at the tip, and I used my thumb to spread it, mimicking what he had done to me. His hips jerked forward, seeking more friction.

“Fuck, Evan,” he groaned, his head falling back to expose the strong column of his throat. “Your hands…”

I tightened my grip slightly, finding a rhythm that made his breathing quicken. “What about my hands?”

“So fucking perfect,” he gasped. “Those precise, careful fingers… checking boxes… following rules… fuck!”

The thought that my methodical nature could be a turn-on was novel and thrilling. I increased my pace, watching in fascination as his control began to fray. He braced one hand against the wall beside my head, the other gripping my shoulder almost painfully.

“Close,” he warned, his voice rougher than I’d heard it before.

I should have moved away, should have worried about the mess, about evidence of what we’d done. Instead, I leaned forward and pressed my mouth to his collarbone, tasting salt and smoke and something wild I couldn’t name.

He came with a growl that sounded barely human, hot pulses coating my hand and spattering against my exposed stomach. His body shuddered against mine, powerful muscles tensing and relaxing as I worked him through it.

For several moments, the only sound in the office was our ragged breathing. Reality began to creep back in as our heartbeats slowed. I was standing in the Fire Chief’s office, pants around my thighs, shirt hanging open, covered in evidence of what we’d just done.

What was I thinking? I wasn’t thinking. That’s the problem.

Before panic could fully set in, Shep pushed away from the wall and crossed to his desk. He pulled several tissues from a box and returned to me, his expression surprisingly gentle as he cleaned my hand and stomach.

“You’re overthinking already,” he said, a hint of amusement in his voice. “I can practically hear the gears turning.”

I pulled my pants up hastily, wincing at the wrinkles that would never come out. “This was—”

“Amazing,” he supplied, tucking himself away and zipping up. “Unexpected. Definitely happening again.”

I blinked at him. “Again?”

His smile was slow and confident. “Unless you’ve got a rule against it.”

I should have had a rule against it. I should have had several rules against it. Instead, I found myself shaking my head. “No specific rule, no.”

“Good.” He picked up my windbreaker and held it out. “Because I’m not done with you, Inspector. Not by a long shot.”