Page 31 of Savage in the Streets
“Next thing you know, I’ll be representing you for arson.”
“How hard would it be to get me off?”
Why don’t I take you into my bedroom and show you?
“Barely an inconvenience.”
She treats me to a mischievous smile. What really throws me off is how casual she’s acting around me after last night’s kiss. Does she perchance believe it was a dream? I want to know if she was up all night thinking about it like I was.
“How are your other cases going?” she asks.
“Not bad. I delegate a lot of the work, so it’s not disturbing anything right now. I will have to appear in court next week.”
“Oh no, whatever will you do? I mean, a criminal will be lurking around your apartment. That’s pretty serious.”
“I’ve recently acquired a set of handcuffs which will assist with the times I need to be away.” I cast her a wink.
Excitement lights those dazzling green eyes of hers. “Yes, please!”
My cock jolts in my pants, desperate to get my attention. I focus on maintaining eye contact, trying to hide that at this moment, I have about as much control as a horny teenager.
“Is that why you cause so much mischief? You love getting caught?” I say, ever cautious of where this conversation could lead.
“Once again…you’re the one who decided to pack my handcuffs.”
“Because when your place inevitably gets tossed, I wanted to make sure they couldn’t pose a problem for you. Police-grade handcuffs provoke questions.”
“It’s not illegal to own handcuffs. You were just looking for an excuse to shove my smutty toys in my face.”
“Now, why would I do something as immature as that?”
“Because you have a two-foot stick shoved up your ass and don’t know how to let go and have fun.”
“Darling, the two-foot stick shoved up my ass implies that to the right crowd, I can very much let go and have fun.”
Her face goes blank. “Oh…”
“What? Why are you making that face?”
“I didn’t realize that you were gay. I guess things make sense now.”
“No—that’s not what I meant,” I snap back, flustered. “And what do you mean by ‘makes sense now.’ Am I radiating gay energy or something? After last night…”
I trail off, cursing myself for alluding to my show of weakness.
She looks around. “Your placeiswell decorated.”
“Because I hire the best interior designers.”
“And it’s so clean.”
“The maid.”
“Yeah, but guys don’t care about that.”
“Maybe the bums you hang out around don’t, but I have a reputation to uphold, and I aim to avoid sloppiness.”
“Yeah, sure…”
