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Swallowing the sudden lump lodged in my throat, I just say, “I’m not hungry for a big meal.”
“Then we’ll just have to work up an appetite.” He pauses for dramatic effect, the bastard. “In the shower.”
Good thing that lump is gone because I choke. “What?”
“Have you taken one?”
“No. I… with the cuffs—”
There’s not even a lick of shame as he says, “Yes. With your hands cuffed, it would’ve been a bitch to take a shower. Hands are free now, though, aren’t they? I thought you’d like to freshen up for our date. Of course, to make sure you don’t try anything while you’re in there, I’ll have to join you. Once you’re done”—he lifts up the dress again—“you can wear this for me.”
I’ll wear the dress. Honestly, I’ll wear anything if I can get out of the clothes I’ve been stuck in for days.
But the shower?
“I… I’m not taking a shower with you, Burns.”
“Is that so?”
I nod.
If he forces me to, I won’t be able to refuse. We both know that. If he tries to convince me the same way he got me to agree to let him finger me, he’ll win. I still can’t quite figure out how that happened. Burns is too persuasive for my own good, I guess, and as much as I’d love a shower right now, it wouldn’t take much for him to push me into saying ‘yes’.
To my surprise, he doesn’t. Oh, he manipulates me. I’m beginning to think that’s the MO with this cop. I walked right into his trap by immediately refusing him, and I realize that as soon as he says, “Fine. But if I give you privacy in the shower, you’ll have to give me something, too.”
I’m afraid to find out what he has in mind. “Like what?”
“I won’t join you, but I will watch you.”
“Shower?”
“Undress.”
Yup. He caught me—or, rather, he thinks he did.
Know what? I’ve been wearing the same clothes for days. He bunched my sweater high, shimmying down my pants, baring my pussy to him last night. With the tattoo on my tit, I know he’s seen at least one. Put that all together, and I’ve basically been naked in front of him before.
Even better, if I agree, I get the upper hand. Does Burns see it like that? Probably not. I do. It makes sense in my head.
I’ll own my nudity so that he can’t.
“Okay.”
He raises his eyebrows. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Go on. I’m ready when you are.”
Folding his hands behind his head, Burns sprawls out on the cot. I have to climb over him to get off of it, and when he runs his finger over my ass as I do, I pretend not to notice.
Before I think better of what I’m doing, I start to take off my clothes. I don’t go for seductive. This isn’t some kind of striptease for my obsessed stalker. This is me, showing him what he can’t have while doing just enough to keep the scales balanced between us.
It doesn’t matter what my intentions are. As soon as I’m completely naked, Burns thumbs the corner of his mouth, eyes gone dark with lust as he takes me in.
“Forget the dress, angel,” he says, his voice gone hoarse. “This is all I want to see you in tonight.”
Yeah… not if I can help it.
