Page 197 of Things We Hide from the Light
“Rain check?” I whispered.
“What the hell am I supposed to do with a hard-on?” he growled in my ear.
I glanced down and grinned. “Hide it behind your pepper spray. And your flashlight. And your Taser. But whatever you do, don’t think about me screaming your name when you go down on me.”
“Fuck.”
Nash sufferedthrough twelve whole minutes of photos—most of them with a barely disguised erection—before pulling the plug on the shoot like a grumpy man bear. It was six minutes longer than I thought he’d last.
I shifted Piper in my arms and pulled out my phone.
Me: You owe me $20. Nash just gave the photographer the boot.
Stef: Damn it! I thought he’d make it to fifteen.
Me: Sucker. Venmo me. Also, thank you for arranging this while you’re busy doing whatever it is you do in New York. I owe you.
Stef: You can repay your debt by feeding me intel on Jeremiah.
Me: Aren’t you in contact with him?
Stef: Of course I am. I just want to know if he’s lifting weights like a sad, sexy panda while I’m gone.
“Hey. You wanna get out of here?” Nash said, poking his head in the door of his office. His face was scrubbed clean of the makeup artist’s powder. He looked exactly like an all-American hero. Piper thought so too if her tail wagging was any indication.
“Where are we going?” I asked, slipping my phone into my bag and putting the dog on the floor.
“To see a girl about an ass,” he said cryptically.
“After you,” I said, gesturing for him to walk ahead of me. I admired his posterior in those sexy as hell uniform pants as he led the way into the bullpen.
“Did they take any pictures of your face or was it all ass?” Nolan asked, shrugging into his jacket and following us out the door.
“Bite me,” Nash said.
It was a beautiful fall day for a drive. Nash cued up a country playlist and off the three of us—plus Piper—went in his department-issued SUV. I focused my attention on the updates in the WhatsApp group. Naomi and Sloane were taking their assignments seriously.
Sloane had recruited a tiered network of spies on the lookout for Hugo and his henchmen.
Naomi and Waylay had their first jujitsu lesson scheduled for this evening. Knox and Lucian had ordered seven million pounds of security equipment that they would be installing this week.
“Fun field trip, Chief,” Nolan said from the back seat.
I glanced up and saw the women’s correctional facility looming in front of us.
“Figured it was about time I had a sit-down with her,” Nash said, eyeing the prison through the windshield. “Anything I need to know before we go in?”
“She won’t talk if Nolan’s in the room, and she has a crush on you.”
“Tina? On me?” Nash looked like I’d just whipped out a badminton racket and slapped him in the face with it.
“It’s the butt, isn’t it?” Nolan asked.
“Mine or hers?”
“Come on, Chief,” I teased. “You know that every female in Knockemout loves to watch you leave a room.”
Nash’s ears were turning an adorable shade of pink.
