McGee, Kayti - [Under the Covers 04] - Hands Off by Kayti McGee

Author:Kayti McGee [McGee, Kayti]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-03-14T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 7

Charity

There was truly no good reason for me to hop into this car with The Cop, but I haven’t exactly been renowned in life for my good decisions. Besides, I’ve been wet since our thwarted encounter in the bathroom earlier.

I don’t know who I was kidding when I indicated to him that I’d be spending the night alone with a jar of Fern’s pickles.

From the second he showed up at Game Night, it was inevitable that this would happen. As wrong as it is, our chemistry is explosive.

Who would ever have thought it? A cop and a klepto. Then again, the rumor has always been that opposites attract.

His hand clamps down on my thigh, just under the hem of my skirt, and I wait for it to slide upwards. It doesn’t. He stays right there. Dick! But even just that warmth and pressure is echoed in my lady parts, and I clench my thighs closer together to relieve the ache.

He smiles like he knows exactly what I’m doing, even though he doesn’t look at me once.

Seriously, who does he think he is? He’s no Jon Snow, that’s for sure. Although the park may very well have been our version of the infamous cave. There was that thing he did with his tongue…

Damn, the combination of margaritas and Jon Snow has created a melting of the Wall between my inhibitions and the Hot Cop. Officer Bad News has created a warm front. In my pants. Skirt. Whatever. It occurs to me that I have had entirely too much to drink to be making good decisions.

Suddenly, my online therapist’s (electronic) voice pops into my head. “Are you blaming the drink when you should be owning your mistakes? Perhaps, did you drink enough to give yourself permission to do what you didn’t want to admit to yourself sober?”

I can’t decide if it’s the sign of a breakthrough or the onset of schizophrenia.

Either way, I definitely did not drink for self-awareness, so I put my own hand down on his thigh. And I have no compunctions about moving mine higher. I hear his intake of breath, but I didn’t need that sound for a giveaway that he likes it.

I can see that he likes it.

After checking the rearview mirror to make sure our driver has his eyes on the road, I decide I need to feel how much he likes it, too. So unlike him, I start scooting my hand up, until my palm rests comfortably on his erection.

I begin working my hand up, and then down, and then up… I take my cue from him and don’t make any eye contact. His fingers tighten on my leg as I continue the soft motion right up until the denim of his jeans starts to numb my hand. Then I worry a bit that it’s uncomfortable on his cock, although it certainly seems happy in there.

In there. Shouldn’t I let it out of its zippered cage? That would be the kind thing to do. And I am nothing if not kind.

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