Page 32 of Badges
My knuckles pause before striking the wood of her door. Am I an idiot for even bringing her in?
Do I trust her in myhouse?
Maria would have taught her right from wrong. Maybe?
With a rapid succession of taps, I stand impatiently waiting for her to answer.
“Yes?” She opens her room, hugging the handle as she fixes me with her obsidian eyes.
My useless tongue feels as if it’s tripled in size.
She’s wearing only a tiny tank top and shorts, leaving very little to the imagination. The thin fabric hugs the curves ofher breasts, highlighting her tight nipples under the swatch of purple and gold hues.
In a failing effort to cover my surprise, I drop my gaze to the hardwood floor and her bare feet. “I’m gonna run to town. Make me a list of basics.” Holding out a pen and paper, I steal a glance up her thighs pressed together, then focus over her dark hair in a pony tail to stare out the far window. “
“That’d be great. The afternoon sun makes this room hot. I’d love a few more cooler clothes.” Her fingers brush mine when she takes the page. “I’d hate to have to run around naked.” Her lower lip tugs between her teeth with a seductive curl tugging up the corner of her mouth.
She’s going to kill me.
“I’ll bump up the air. I ain’t home during the day much, so didn’t even think about it.” My voice tries to catch. “I’ll be leaving in ten.” I sound as gravelly as Ford did.
Pivoting on my heel, I nearly run into the wall trying to get away from her.
I’m gonna crank this place to the icy depths of Antarctica. Then she’ll have to wear a damn parka.
Like that’ll fix it.
Shucking out of my uniform, I have to stuff my half-hard dick into my jeans before tugging on a loose white t-shirt.
I don’t want to be on official business for this shopping trip.
Padding out to the living room to put on my boots, I stop mid-stride to see the round heart shape of her ass bending over in front of the fridge, her snug purple shorts riding up to show the swell of the top of her thighs.
God damn. What the hell did I invite into my home?
“Do you actually eat these?” She holds a package of hot dogs by the very corner with a sour wrinkle of her nose. “You know these will give you a heart attack.” The plastic crinkles as she shakes it in my direction before tossing it into the bottom drawer of thecooler. “Can you maybe get something green? I can make us a big salad for dinner.”
A groan of distaste sneaks out of me when I flop onto the couch. “You can have the rabbit food, I’ll have the nitrates. It’s awfully sweet to think you care about my heart, but it ain’t your concern.”
Her big brown eyes widen, then roll so only the whites show. “You’re ridiculous. I’m just trying to say ‘thank you’ for letting me stay here. Fine, get some chicken for on top.”
“Add about five pounds of bacon, and I might consider it,” I grumble, dropping the leg of my jeans over the top of my cowboy boot.
Her very audible snort is followed by the sound of her bare feet on the hard wood. “I’ll convince you. You need to stay alive long enough to find out who has my sister, remember?” She stands in front of me, one hand on the bare skin flashing over the hem of her shorts, the other extending the scribbled list.
I’m level with her belly button winking at me from under her shirt.
The walls feel like they’re closing in on me. Rushing to stand, I snatch the paper and stuff it into my pocket without looking at it.
With all of the blood rushing to my crotch, the chance of dying from being lightheaded is a very real possibility.
“Don’t wait up,mommy,” I say sarcastically, striding towards the exit. And freedom.
She kneels onto the cushions, propping her elbows on the back of the couch giving me an excellent view of her cleavage. “Don’t worry,daddy.” She draws out the word, punctuating it with an ample pout. “I know how to keep myself occupied.”
I can’t do this.
Every time I stretch out a sleeve, or check a size of a pair of leggings, I keep picturing her putting them on. How they’d look on her.
