Page 22 of H E R

I shrug, feigning a cockiness I don’t possess. Not with him, and not about this, but I can’t back down. “Maybe.”

Jasmin almost clamps her hand over my mouth. “She most definitely is not. I’m sorry, Detective. Justice’s mouth gets her in trouble, but she’s harmless.”

Dylan’s knuckles go white from his strong grip on the wheel. I’m afraid it’ll crumble to ash from the pressure. “Is your friend right? That mouth of yours get you in trouble?”

I roll my eyes and stare out the window while pushing back into my seat. What the fuck am I supposed to say to that? I cross my arms and glare at Jasmin.

Her eyes are wide as she mouthsOhmygod,and she’s fanning herself, trying to shrink behind Dylan’s seat. I want to strangle her; this is her fault.

“My brother is a minor, and I don’t need to tell you what he does unless this relates to an official line of questioning. So, I’ll ask again, are you interrogating me, Detective?”

“I already told you I wasn’t.”

I throw up my hands in frustration. “So why the twenty questions? Can’t you just drive in silence?”

Jasmin buries her face into her hands. I shrug,what?

She clears her throat. “We aren’t used to law enforcement being nice for no reason, Detective. It’s… unnerving.”

He nods, as if accepting Jasmin’s excuse for my shitty attitude. She isn’t wrong, but mostly I’m just terrified of how Dylan makes me feel. I should be weak at the knees for Noah. I should be craving Noah. I should be eager for him to return and envelop me in his arms and cherish me the way he does.

Yet all I want to do is run my tongue all over Dylan’s skin and taste him. I want his scent permanently seared into my receptors. I want to trace my mouth over the inked lines etched all over his body. I want his full lips between my legs, lapping up the desire he owns in me.

I need to get the fuck out of this damn car.

It takes us forty-five agonizing minutes to get to our county, and it dawns on me that we’re in a cop’s car. We’re a five-minute drive away from where our trailer is, and if anyone spots Jasmin and I getting out of a detective’s vehicle, we’re fucked. It isn’t a police car by any means. In fact, I don’t know any officer who owns a car like this one, but still.

“You can drop us off here. We can walk the rest of the way.”

“Why would I do that?”

Fucking hell, this man is impossible. “Because you’re a cop,” I spit through a tight jaw and even tighter lips.

I think I hear Dylan growl, but he pulls over and steps out. His seat folds forward, and Jasmin graciously steps out. I shuffle eagerly and plant one black pump on the ground when my other foot gets caught on the seatbelt. I’m going to fall flat on my fucking face, but Dylan reaches out and firmly grips my waist, and my hands press against his rock-hard chest.

Our eyes lock, and we both hold our breaths, as though we are united by the same life thread—if one seizes to breathe, then so does the other. An innate link that relies on the other for survival. The suppression lasts seconds and then we’re breathing again, andwe both blink as we inhale one another. His pupils dilate, reminding me that his irises are barely a shade lighter. It’s beyond a mere attraction; something about this moment magnetizes itself to my core memories, superseding above all other encounters, practically obliterating any other hold on me.

I don’t know if it’s because we’re afraid to breathe the air between us, or if the jolt of electricity shocked us into immobility, but our next breaths are slow and uneven. I feel his heart beating and the heat of him permeates through his t-shirt and brands my skin. I want to mold into him and press myself against his body and allow the current of my desire to push me past the inevitable fall that tugs at me like a force of fucking nature. His hands move to hold me steady by my elbows, and he stretches behind me to free my trapped ankle. My heel clicks on the cement.

One hand stays cupping my elbow, while his other moves to my face. The familiarity of his hold renders me to this moment, halting me from reacting the way I normally would to anyone else’s touch, even Noah’s. His thumb grazes my bottom lip, and he tugs it down and dips the tip to touch my teeth. He tastes of salted mint, and I fight the urge to bite the tip of his finger.

As though he heard my thoughts, he inhales a sharp breath and leans into my ear, his lips dangerously close to my pierced lobe, and I imagine his breath collecting on the gold-plated metal. I can feel his stubble scrape by cheek and liquid heat pools at my center.

“I don’t believe you’re harmless, and I can think of the perfect punishment for this mouth.” He squeezes my lip, then lets go.

Fuck,I should’ve bitten him. I stumble back a step, a cold breeze sweeps up and around me, my skin already feeling the void of his heat.

“Careful, a heel like that can kill a man.”

I glare at him. “Here’s hoping.”

Jasmin rolls her eyes. I’m stumbling toward her when she loops her hand through mine and calls. “Thanks for the ride, Detective.”

8

Justice

I’m not sure if she’s the greatest best friend/sister in the entire fucking world, but Jasmin has yet to say shit about what she witnessed the night Dylan dropped us off. Aside from looking at me as if she was trying to decipher what was going on in my head, nothing. Not a peep. I was glad because what am I supposed to say? I have the hots for a fucking detective, but I’m dating my childhood friend? No. I can’t say that out loud.

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