“Only you. You’re the only girl I care about.” And then, because tonight she was a nervous virgin, he asked, “Can I kiss you here?” and touched his lips to her tight nipple.
She bowed her back. Her fingernails dug into his shoulders. “Just for a minute.”
The location, her outfit, and the scent of her perfume all transported him back in time. He kissed her breasts gently, reverently, as if he really was a teenager again, but this time lucky enough to have the girl of his dreams in his arms, and determined not to scare her off. He figured he’d succeeded when, a minute later, she arched and squirmed against him, trying to get closer. He abandoned her breasts and traced a hot trail down her fluttering abdomen. When he reached the waistband of her skirt, he looked up at her. “Lift your skirt.”
Her breasts rose and fell. Need—a very grown-up need—burned in her eyes, but still she lowered her lashes shyly. “I shouldn’t—”
“You should. You’re so fucking pretty. I need to see all of you, baby. Just a peek.”
“Okay.” She said it fast, like she couldn’t believe she was agreeing. “No touching.”
He knelt in front of her, forgetting to breathe, as she pinched the hem of her skirt between her index finger and thumb, and slowly raised it to reveal a tidy strip of blond curls. Breath rushed out of his lungs on a curse. “Jesus, Bluelick, you’ve been standing here this whole time with no panties on, wearing a scrap of a skirt that barely covers anything?”
She blinked at him, all innocence. “I had to take them off. They got so damp while I was back here waiting for you, wondering if you’d try to kiss me, and…take liberties…and wondering what I’d say if you did try.”
“You can stop wondering. I’m going to take liberties, and you’re going to say yes.” He got to his feet, prepared to deliver on the promise, but a movement in the shadows under the bleachers caught his eye.
“Shit.” He shot up, pushed Melody behind him, and zipped his jeans, all the while keeping his gaze on the place where he’d seen movement. The waning daylight didn’t help much.
“What’s wrong?”
“Shh.” There it was. A crouched figure crawled along the narrow end of the mental structure and then froze, as whoever lurked there sensed he’d gone from the observer to the observed. Josh took a step closer and their voyeur bolted like a jackrabbit out the opening at the side of the bleachers.
“Who was that?” Now she whispered, even as the rapid f
ootfalls grew distant.
“I don’t know.” He looked at her, taking in the big eyes and pale face. Her clothes, mercifully, were in order, but that didn’t mean someone hadn’t seen plenty if they’d parked themselves in their hidey-hole early on. Like before he’d arrived. A chill swept through him at the idea of Melody waiting back here, alone and unaware, while some pervert watched.
“Don’t move. I’ll be right back.”
“Josh—”
He took off running. The guy had a decent head start, but even if he couldn’t catch the bastard, he wanted to try to get a look at him. Maybe recognize him. When he rounded the bleachers, he saw the dark-clad figure on the other side of the football field already, running toward the path between the gymnasium and the main building of the school. Whoever it was wore nondescript jeans, an un-tucked gray T-shirt, and ball cap. Male. Five nine or five ten, Josh estimated, a hundred and sixty pounds, and nimble as a fucking ferret. Josh was built for bursts of speed and strength, not distance, and with each passing second the pervert widened his lead.
Keenly aware he’d left Melody alone behind the bleachers, he slowed, made a turn, and jogged back the way he’d come. She met him at the edge of the field and gave him a cautious smile. “I think somebody is trying to teach me an important lesson about the privacy of my own home.”
He admired her resilience, but he wasn’t embracing the humor of the situation quite yet. “Did you recognize him?”
“No. Not from this distance. He moved like a young guy, and this is a high school.” Her smile twisted into a cringe. “We probably just corrupted some poor innocent minor.”
“Poor innocent minor? What the hell was some ‘poor innocent minor’ doing under the bleachers? School’s been out since May. It’s damn near seven in the evening. Any poor innocent minors should be home having dinner with their family right now, not sneaking around spying on people. Anybody with an ounce of decency would have coughed or cleared their throat the minute he saw me kiss you.”
She reached out and smoothed the scowl off his forehead. “Chief Bradley, are you mad at me?”
The question surprised him. “No.”
“Then why are you yelling at me?”
He took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and told himself to get his shit under control. “I’m not. I’m just…yelling in general. Dammit. Some little pervert had his eyes on you. If I find him, I’m going to tear them out of his head and stomp on them. What if I’d been late? Would he have been satisfied to wait in the shadows and watch you, or would he have decided to make a move?”
“This is Bluelick. Things like that don’t happen here.”
He had her by the shoulders before he knew what he was doing, and just managed to hold himself back from giving her a shake. If she honestly believed what she’d just said, someone needed to shake some sense into her. Someone like Ellie or Ginny. Not someone a head taller and seventy pounds heavier. He settled for looking her in the eye and saying as firmly as he knew how, “Melody, things like that happen everywhere. Bad seeds crop up in small communities, not just big cities. The only difference here in Bluelick is you might recognize your assailant.”
Her eyes widened, and her mouth dropped open, and for one awful moment he thought he’d actually frightened her with his manhandling, but then she whispered, “Josh. Look.”
Before he could turn, the wail of a fire alarm shattered the evening.