Say It Ain't So (SWAT Generation 2.0 9)

She had a great ass, and by great, I meant, ‘I’d fuck it’ great.

Multiple times.

Even as weak as I was, I still wanted to pull her to me, shove her so she was face down on the counter, and tug those shorts down to her knees and have my filthy way with her.

She turned again and my eyes were now on her pussy.

The seam was riding up a bit, causing her to have a bit of a camel toe.

And my eyes were now fixated.

I wanted to tug that out with my fucking teeth.

“Here you go,” she said softly.

I glanced up to see her staring at me with knowing eyes and another blush that made my lips turn up.

“Thank you,” I rumbled.

She swallowed, crossing her arms over her chest again. But not before I saw her hard nipples.

I took another bite of soup and watched her watch me before I asked her more.

“Do you ever do research?” I asked, leading up to my next question.

“You mean like research about a place? Because yes. Actually. I do. In fact, next week I leave for Alaska for a month so I can write about a couple that meets up there on a poker run.”

Alaska for a month.

Why did the sound of that make me want to throw up?

“A month?” I asked, trying to keep my voice calm.

Why was I so worried about her being gone for a month?

I had no fuckin’ clue, but I didn’t like it one bit.

“Yep.” She smiled then. “I’ve always wanted to go to Alaska. Nobody ever wants to go with me, though. So I’ve decided to do it by myself.”

I’d go with her in a heartbeat if I could.

But it wasn’t like she’d invited me, and it was also likely I wouldn’t have a job when I came back if I just up and left.

Then, because I was blaming my slight fever for my actions then, I opened my mouth and asked her another question.

“How about a little more research?” I teased, offering my body with a sweep of my hand.

I could tell that she wanted me.

I wanted her, too.

Badly.

So badly, in fact, that the soup tasted like sawdust as I waited for her answer.

She blinked. “Ummm… are you being serious right now? Because I can’t tell.”

I straightened up and allowed her to see my very serious condition.

Her mouth fell open in surprise.

“You… you want me?” she asked as if she was surprised that I would. “But why, why, why?”

The repeating words. I was making her nervous.

Before I could answer her in the affirmative, she was up and moving away from me.

“Can you give me a sec? I need to go save the book that I’m working on,” Hastings said quietly.

I watched her go.

Slowly, I finished my soup and placed the bowl in the sink. After rinsing it out, I went in search of the object of my desire.

I still couldn’t fuckin’ believe those words had come out of my mouth.

Smooth, Samuel Adams. Real smooth.

I found her in the room with the monitors.

She was sitting at her computer staring blankly at the screen.

“What’s with all the camera equipment?” I asked when I walked into the room.

“Umm,” she hesitated. “After that last thing with the movie star? My dad suggested we get some security equipment in here. He said with y’all being cops, that we should probably have it anyway just in case. You can’t be too safe lately.”

That was the fuckin’ truth.

But the thing with the movie star? That was a fluke accident.

See, a couple of weeks ago Adam’s girl, Amelia, had pissed off a movie star that’d been filming in the city. He’d been a vindictive asshole and had decided that he was going to beat Amelia up—did beat Amelia up. In Adam’s home. Hence Hastings worry about security.

“That’s understandable,” I finally said. “And your pop is right. We can’t be too careful lately.”

She bit her lip and turned.

Then, all at once, I had my answer to my earlier question.

I’m not sure how we ended up in the bed together.

Nor was I sure how I ended up with my mouth on hers. What I did know was that I wanted her.

I liked her quirkiness. I liked that she was honest and open with her illness. I liked that she had let me stay there the other night. I liked that she dropped off a bottle of ibuprofen and Tylenol yesterday morning.

And, even more, I liked that she was looking at me like I was a piece of chocolate cake she wanted to devour.Chapter 6

Indoorsy.

-T-shirt

Hastings

What the hell was I doing?

I had no fuckin’ clue.

The man was sick.

The man had the fucking flu.

I’d likely have the flu, too, after this.

But I just couldn’t make myself stop.

One second, I was in my computer chair, the next, my mouth was on his, and I was leading him backward to my bedroom.