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That was probably crazy.
I mean, he was a guy.
Guys liked having naked women around and even on them. That was all it was.
I just had to keep reminding myself of that with his strong arm around me and his fingers tracing over me, and the steady beat of his heart lulled me into a sleepy state.
“Damnit,” he declared a while later, making me jerk.
“What is it?”
“The plates belong to a car that was stolen a week ago,” he told me, sounding frustrated.
“So, that’s a dead end?” I asked as I went ahead and didn’t let myself think about why I wasn’t lifting my head to look at him. Or, you know, moving off his lap and finding my shirt.
“Yeah, that’s a dead end. But I was expecting that. No self-respecting criminal is driving around in their own car with plates that would link right back to them. Especially in this day and age when everyone from businesses to your great-grandmother has cameras or video doorbells and all that shit.”
“What’s the—“ I started to ask, only to be interrupted by the buzzing of his phone.
Junior’s hand shot out, grabbing it, and swiping across the screen before lifting it to his ear.
I went to move off of him finally, but his arm tightened around me, stopping the movement.
“Hello? Oh, hey A. Yeah. The sooner, the better,” he said. “Sure. That works. We’ll see you then,” he said, ending the call and tossing his phone back on the desk.
“We have a meeting with the cartel guy?” I asked.
“Yep. This afternoon. So… as much as I like you in my shirt, we gotta get you something to wear.”
“Right,” I agreed. “Is there a dress code for meeting a cartel kingpin?” I asked, getting a snort out of Junior.
“No. A is pretty casual. One question, though.”
“What?” I asked.
“You’re not afraid of dogs, are you?” he asked.
“Dogs? No. I kind of always wanted to have a little fenced-in area of the cafe to have dog-friendly outdoor seating. But there was no room at the location that fit in my budget. Why?”
“Because A has about fifty of them,” he said. “That’s an exaggeration, but it’s at least like fifteen pitties. They’re well trained, though.”
“I’m kind of excited to see them. My life isn’t exactly conducive to having pets. But I love animals. Do you not like them?” I asked.
He certainly had enough room for pets. And he seemed to be home way more than not.
“I do,” he said. “But I sometimes go out of town, and I didn’t want to have to send a dog to live with my parents and upset its schedule.”
“Well, you don’t have to worry about that now,” I said, looking up at him. “Now you have a live-in Barry.”
“You take that the fuck back,” he demanded, light eyes dancing.
“I can just picture it. You come home from a long week of work to find Barry and your dog wearing matching outfits, and…”
I didn’t get to finish that thought.
Because Junior’s hands went down, fingers tracing skin, searching for tickle spots, and working them relentlessly until I was squealing and sliding off his lap and onto my knees on the floor, curled up into myself to prevent any more assault.
“That was low,” I accused, looking up at him with scrunched brows from my position on the floor.
