Page 97 of Beyond the Badge: Crew

She shrugged. “I’m just stating a fact. Here’s another: My feet are killing me from being on them all night. If it wasn’t too much effort to remove my boots, I’d put my poor sore feet in your lap and you could rub them for me.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t work in those boots,” he suggested. Why did the thought of massaging her feet not turn him off?

He wasn’t into feet.

Was he?

Why the fuck was she making him question his sexual preferences?

“What do you want me to wear? Slippers? I need to fit in.”

“You seem to be pulling it off with that outfit.”

“You think? I was told I’m not showing enough of my tits.”

Of course, that pulled his eyes down to her cleavage. “By who?”

“By anyone who had both a mouth hole and a dick. I heard it loud and often.”

“You won’t be showing more than that.”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Stop.”

Her husky chuckle floated across the table. “Why?”

“You know why.”

“Because we had sex?”

“That’s one reason. Can we not talk about sex while we eat?”

“Is it distracting?”

“It’s not appropriate.”

“Appropriate?” burst from her a little too loudly. “From what I heard, that word isn’t even in your vocabulary.”

“Apparently, what you heard is wrong since I just used it.”

“And did it hurt for you to say it?”

He pointed his fork at her plate. “Eat.”

“Yes, D—”

Before she could finish, his automatic response was to throw a sausage link at her. It bounced off her chest and disappeared below the table.

Her mouth dropped open and her eyes went wide. “Did you just start a food fight?”

Goddamnit.“No.”

“So, your sausage just happened to launch itself across the table on its own?”

“It slipped off my fork.”

She wiped the sausage grease off the shiny spot on her skin above her V-neck. “This is war.”

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