The Griffin Marshal's Heart (U.S. Marshal Shifters 4)
God.
“Seems okay,” she said in the same bright, cheerful voice. “Everything feels like it’s in good working order.”
Cooper tucked his mouth against her ear so he didn’t have to worry about being overheard. “You’re killing me here.”
“You were the one who thought it was a good idea for us to take our clothes off,” she whispered back.
“I was trying to save your life!”
She tightened her hand around him, drawing out a noise that he thankfully managed to catch before it escaped his lips. “Consider it saved.”
“There’s a—ah—very nice old man—fuck—named Ford out there, who could hear—”
Gretchen kissed him again, but more softly this time. “I’ll take care of it.”
She peeled off the comforter, leaving him wrapped in just the quilt, and wrapped it around her shoulders. It made her look like a queen in a long white winter cloak. She padded over to the open door, moving in small glides so she could keep herself covered, and called out, “Mr. Ford?”
Ford’s voice came back: “Marshal? And it’s just Ford, dear. It’s my first name.”
“Then I’m Gretchen. But yes, I’m the Marshal.”
“Good to see you’re back on your feet.”
“Good to be back on my feet, for sure. From the way Cooper’s acting, it was touch and go there for a while?”
“Seemed to be.”
Cooper’s throbbing lust thought this conversation, while nice and friendly, was taking way longer than it needed to.
“Well, I am back on my feet, and all I want to do is take a nice hot shower and go to bed. I didn’t want you to worry—I’m absolutely fine. I’m just going to close the door so I can get some sleep.”
“So you can get some sleep,” Ford repeated dryly. “Sure, dear.”
Even from the bed, Cooper could see the back of Gretchen’s neck flush bright pink.
But even if she was embarrassed at the thought of this motel owner being all too sure of what she and Cooper were going to get up to behind that closed door, she didn’t let it get in the way of her plan.
“Good night!” Gretchen said, with bright innocence.
She closed the door. Turning back to Cooper, she let the comforter fall to the floor.
She was glorious.
She was smooth and sleek, the perfect combination of soft, sweet curves and the finely-honed muscles that spoke to her devotion to the more physical parts of the job. Her skin was a warm golden-brown, a slightly lighter honey shade than her eyes, and seeing it juxtaposed against her cream-colored bra and panties made him want to just spend an eternity tasting her. He knew he wouldn’t regret a second of it.
“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” Cooper said. He untangled himself from the nest of blankets and went over to her, cupping one hand around the back of her head so he could kiss her deeply. “You’re perfect.”
“I can’t even believe you’re real,” Gretchen said softly against his mouth, the words a delicate vibration against his lips. “I’m so glad I met you. I wasn’t kidding about the shower... but I’d like you to take it with me.”
*
The showers in Ford’s motel were avocado-colored bathtubs with ancient showerheads that pelted water down at you at a terrifying speed.
They were standing outside the tub on the chilly tiled floor, shivering there in their underwear. Gretchen had been hoping for the best—despite the unappealing visual of the tub—until she’d turned on the water to test it. Most of the time, she liked the kind of shower where the water hit you like it was coming out of a pressure hose. It was like getting a free massage, if you were tough enough to take it. But she had to admit that it wasn’t exactly erotic—and neither was the prospect of slipping and sliding around the tub with Cooper while they both tried to get clean in the same tiny space.
“I wanted to pamper you,” Gretchen said, raising her voice to be heard over the thundering water. “But this isn’t as steamy and sexy as I was hoping for.”
“It’s a hot shower I can take in relative privacy,” Cooper said. “That’s good enough for me.”