Blood & Bones: Rook (Blood Fury MC Book 7) by Jeanne St. James

Author:Jeanne St. James [St. James, Jeanne]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Double-J Romance, Inc.
Published: 2021-04-30T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

What the fuck are you wearin’?

Confused, she shook her head wondering what he was asking about and why whatever it was bothered him. “What?”

“That shiny shit clinging to your tits.”

She glanced down at her shirt. “Under Armour. I wear that under my vest to keep me dry.”

“Fuckin’ skin tight.”

This was an odd conversation to be happening when the man standing in front of her was buck naked. “It’s supposed to be.”

“You walk around just wearin’ that?”

Why was he all bent out of shape about a shirt? Yes, it was snug but it needed to not be bulky. “I need to be careful with what I wear in the locker room since we only have one.” That was why she wore her Under Armour home instead of peeling it off at work.

His brow dropped low. “What d’you mean?”

“We only have one locker room at the station. So, most of the time Leah and I don’t strip down all the way. And we certainly don’t shower there. It’s why I wear boy shorts, a sports bra and Under Armour when I work.”

“You’re in a fuckin’ locker room with other men wearin’ only a sports bra and your panties?”

This was a disturbing line of questioning. Especially from him. Especially now. “Well,” she plucked at the dark blue skin-tight fabric at her stomach, “this over it and boy shorts.”

“Fuckin’ underwear, Jet. Struttin’ around a bunch of horny pigs in just your fuckin’ underwear.”

“I wouldn’t call it strutting.”

His eyes narrowed.

“Why the hell do you care, anyway?”

Instantly his expression went blank. “I don’t.”

“Well then, good. What I do is none of your business.”

His jaw shifted.

“None of your business.”

It shifted again.

“You’re only here to get me out of your system, remember?”

A muscle ticked in his cheek.

“So… can we get that process started and over with so I can go take a damn shower and get some sleep?”

“Waitin’ on you.”

“You wouldn’t be waiting if we weren’t having this ridiculous conversation,” she reminded him. She hooked her fingers into her dark gray nylon track pants and shoved them down, toeing off her sneakers and stepping out of her pants like he had. “Unless you want to have another unnecessary conversation about my boy shorts, too?” She lifted a brow with her inquiry.

His chest rose slowly as he now focused on her powder blue underwear. His stroking also slowed. “You wear that shit in front of those assholes?”

“Are you including yourself in that group?”

“Can see your pussy lips.”

“You must have really good vision, then,” she said as she grabbed the hem of her shirt and peeled it up her torso, tugging it over her head and dropping it on top of her other discarded clothing. Now she stood in only her sports bra and underwear. “Should I keep going or should I pause for your commentary on each article of clothing, since it’s so enlightening?”

“Fuck you, Jet,” he growled.

“You keep promising that, but right now you’re only fucking your own fist. So, are you done bitching about what I wear in the locker room at work?”

He wasn’t.

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