Page 33 of Junkyard Dog

He leaned his head back. “Aside from the kissing you part and the fact I’m lying to my brothers about the kissing you part, no.”

“You’re trusting I won’t go to the cops with this,” she said, ignoring his sarcastic response.

“I don’t exist in any database.”

She licked her lips, her eyes narrowing. “What would your boss do if he knew you were telling me this?”

Shoving the memories of chains and muzzles from his mind, he shrugged. “I’d rather not think about it.”

She whistled low. “You’re in a bad situation.”

“No,” he replied, reaching over to grab her hand. “I’m in a good situation that’s going to go bad eventually. Big difference.”

*

Charlotte looked downat the large mitt completely enveloping her hand.

Of course he was a bounty hunter. Why wouldn’t he be?

“This is a lot heavier than you being a man-whore,” she said, her eyes still locked on their joined hands.

Alex snorted. “It kind of ties into it.”

“So what do you want from me?”

He mulled over the question, his blue and hazel eyes darkening and lightening as thoughts passed through his head. “You,” he finally settled on.

She rolled her eyes. “And if you get me, you’ll leave. Why bother?”

“It’s worth it for me,” he muttered, turning her hand over in his and examining her palm. “You’ll eventually get the total shit end of the stick, if you don’t get fed up with me before that. But if you know we have an end…” He sighed and leaned back. “This is a stupid idea.”

She cocked her head and looked at him long and hard.

Morally questionable.

Ethical issues through the roof.

Nothing more than a dangerous little fling with a guarantee of no strings.

She leaned across him and brought her lips to his, kissing him softly until his head caught up with what she was doing.

She smiled against his mouth. “I’m not sleeping with you, since your shelf-life is limited. This is purely a meet-and-greet.”

“I think I can be okay with that,” he murmured, pulling her to him. One large hand wound into her hair at the nape of her neck, sending a little thrill buzz through her body as she crawled onto his lap and straddled him. “I’m totally okay with that, too.” He moaned, trailing his lips down her throat and shifting his hips beneath her.

She could do this. Live on the edge a little. Add a dash of limited risk to her life until he poofed away and she could return to her happy, safe existence with her cat, her badge, and her grilled cheese sandwiches in a quiet apartment.

Sitting back in his lap, she hesitated. “We agree this is just temporary then, right? No expectations.”

“No expectations,” he echoed, his eyes flicking between her lips and her eyes. “Friends with benefits.”

“Perfect.” She swatted a rogue hand as it moved toward her breast. “No way, killer,” she warned, whimpering when he ground against her center.

“Hunter,” he corrected, slipping the chastised hand under her shirt and skimming his fingers lightly along her ribs. He brought his lips back up again, his tongue sliding into her mouth and dancing with hers leisurely as she traced her fingers down his arms, circling the muscles there before venturing to the abs she’d been drooling over for weeks.

“Keep it above C-level,” he teased, pushing her back and gently tugging at the hem of her shirt. “Yes?”

She took a deep breath and pulled the fabric over her head, dropping the tee beside them as he gripped her hands and placed them on his shoulders.

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