AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Keep it up, Steele, and you’ll be in the same hot water as Kevin.” Finally, he breaks into a smile. “So, why am I here instead of the drunk tank?”
“Because I want to know what the hell is going on with you. You could have been seriously injured last night. Or worse.”
“I seem to remember you throwing me over your shoulder like a sack of potatoes. I could have been injured then. Did everyone get a good look at my lady jewels?”
“Lady jewels?”
“Bajingo.”
“What?” His eyebrows crinkle as he stares at me like I’ve sprouted two heads.
“Do I need to draw you a picture?” The crease between his eyebrows grows.
I bet you think I’ve lost my mind. It’s all a part of the plan. I know he wants to know about my list. My goal is to keep him so off-balanced that he forgets all about it.
“I’m taking a shower.” He’s still staring at me as I climb off the stool and head for his bathroom.
Is it possible to stay in the shower long enough for him to go away? I guess we’ll find out. I strip out of my clothes and turn the water as hot as I can stand it. Stepping in, I moan at how good the water feels when it hits my shoulders. Before it can get wet, I pile my hair on top of my head and wrap my hair tie around it.
Now, let’s see what Officer Steele likes to use when he showers. I find the bottle of shampoo. Opening the lid, I take a deep inhale. It smells just like him. Woodsy, a little spicy. I put it back and pick up the soap gel bottle. Squeezing some into my hand, I rub it over my body. If I keep my eyes closed, I can imagine it’s his hands running all over my body.
My fingers find their way between my legs. Do I dare? What if Owen catches me? Those thoughts fly from my mind when my fingers begin making slow, teasing circles on my clit. Heat rushes through my body in anticipation.
With my eyes squeezed tight, I can imagine Owen stepping inside the bathroom. He opens the shower door and steps inside. His voice would be rough when he admonishes me for starting without him.
He presses me against the shower wall with his body, his hand snaking around until he finds my clit. Does he torture me by making me wait or move quickly to make me scream in climax?
“Owen,” I moan as my body tightens. “Yes,” I hiss as waves of ecstasy crash over me.
Slowly, the room comes back into focus. Hot water streams over my sensitive nipples. I must be losing my mind. What possessed me to wack off in the shower of the deputy who brought me home drunk? That sounds like the start of a bad porn movie.
I turn off the water. Finding a towel, I wrap it around my body and step outside the bathroom. Owen stops short in the living room. He’s holding my clothes from last night, neatly folded. I make sure the towel is secure and step toward him. His gaze lingers on the towel just a moment too long before jetting back up to my face. His cheeks turn a slight shade of pink.
“They’re clean. I washed them last night,” he says, holding them out. I take my time walking over. Do I still have him off-kilter? Based on the impressive bulge in his jeans, I’d say he is. Perfect.
“Do you mind if I find another pair of your sweats? I don’t want to have to put back on last night’s panties and in that skirt, nothing will be left to the imagination.”
“Yeah, whatever you need.”
Quickly, I disappear back into his bedroom. I pull the first T-shirt I find over my head and throw on a fresh pair of sweatpants. Returning to the living room, I snatch my clothes from his hands, pick up my purse, and almost make it out the door.
“No. Nope,” Owen says, rushing for the door. He throws his body between me and my last chance to escape an interrogation. “That’s not the deal. You owe me an explanation.”
“I don’t remember making any deal, and I absolutely do not owe you an explanation,” I snap back.
He stands stubbornly barring the door. I cock my hip, placing a fist on it.
“I might not be with the sheriff’s department, but I’m positive it’s a crime to keep a woman against her will.” He stares at me angrily for a few minutes before sighing deeply. He moves to the side of the door and motions for me to leave.
“I just don’t want to see you get hurt,” he says quietly as I scoot past him.
Damn it. I know I’m being a bitch. It’s just so embarrassing. My life is embarrassing. The last thing I want to do is explain that to the first man to look at me since I can remember. Instead, I grab the front of his shirt and pull him to me.
Our lips smash against each other. His tongue slides over mine. Someone moans (probably me). It’s pure bliss for as long as I allow it to last. But all good things must come to an end. I need to get out of here before I do something we’ll regret. Pushing him back against the wall, I take one last lingering look. Then, I slip out the door.
* * *
OWEN
