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“Maybe you could wait in the living room while he gets dressed,” Legacy offers.
Her eyes skate down my body as she swallows, her head shaking back and forth slightly.
“I’m fine,” she says, the hoarseness in her voice making me think of things meant only for darkness.
“Would it be too forward to confess I might’ve thought of this exact scenario?”
Her lips form a flat line, her response paused until Legacy walks away.
“Yeah?” she asks, making no move to come closer. “And just how did I look in your head?”
“Sexy as hell,” I answer. “Looking up at me from your knees, cum coating your lips.”
She shakes her head, but I don’t miss the slight shift of her weight as her body reacts to my words. I hit the nail on the head that night after seeing her badge and gun. She was either going to be compliant with my commanding nature because she was desperate for a much-needed break from being a badass, or she was going to be incapable of relinquishing the power required of being a woman in a male-dominated job. Boy am I glad I was able to give her exactly what she needed.
“Come closer.”
Her tongue scrapes over her lips as she takes one, then a second, step closer.
The threat of my cock inflating fades away, becoming reality as the scent of her skin floats around the room. The fabric of the soft towel becomes a problem when she closes the door at her back, giving us privacy.
“The walls are thinner than you’d think,” I warn. “But I can gag you if you’re worried about people hearing you beg for more.”
She slow blinks at me, and not in a way that makes me think she’s struggling with her emotions or confused by what I said. It’s comical and takes everything I have not to grin at her reaction. The challenge in her eyes shouldn’t turn me on as much as it does. I’m not normally turned on by pushback. I’ve always been more of an obey-on-command type of guy.
“Topping from the bottom while fully dressed? Impressive. Let’s see how well you can keep it up now.”
I tug the towel free from my waist, letting it crumble at my feet.
Her eyes dip, the slow glide of them making my cock jerk, precum seeping from the tip.
When she draws those pretty green orbs back to meet mine, she’s a different woman, and not in a good way.
I tilt my head slightly, shifting forward a couple of inches. When she takes a step back, I pause.
Her nonverbal no echoes around me and not in a way that makes me think she wants to be argued with or proven wrong. It’s a full stop.
I step to the side, heading to the small closet, and pull a pair of jeans from a hanger, keeping my back to her as I tug them up my legs.
“I need your help,” she says as she moves deeper into the room.
I can sense her moving toward the small window on the far side of the room, not closer to me as if she regrets her decision. I wince while trying to position my cock behind the denim with it still semi-erect.
She has her back to me, her forearm resting on the firearm at her hip like I’ve seen so many cops do. It must be something they teach them in the academy for how prevalent the action is.
I take a moment to look at her, wondering if trying my luck one last time would be fruitful, if I could convince her to get in the bed, but I drop the notion. There’s something about this woman that makes me want to spend more than just a couple of hours inside of her, and that is enough to help me keep my distance.
She trusts me on some level, to be facing away, and that makes me feel worthy somehow. Worthy of what, I’m not exactly sure.
“You wanted my help?” I remind her, noticing the flash of disappointment in her eyes when she turns to face me.
I don’t know if she’s upset to see me in jeans or if she’s not impressed I haven’t put a shirt on yet.
“I think Elizabeth’s case is connected to one from fifteen years ago.”
I nod, trying my best to formulate a response that doesn’t hint at the extra information Colton told me about her sister’s case. I don’t think the woman standing in front of me would be impressed to know Colton told me parts of that story last night.
“I’m not sure I can help. Have you spoken with Chief Mon—”
“Full disclosure,” she interrupts. “The department doesn’t want me spending time trying to connect the two.”
“I don’t think Monahan is the type of man to cover up—”
I pause when she shakes her head. “I don’t think he’s covering anything up. He thinks I’m connecting dots that aren’t connectable. Going with full disclosure once again, I have to admit that I may have jumped the gun more than once in my career, operating under the belief that there was a second person involved in my—in two cases that were closed fifteen years ago.”
