NEAT PART TWO, ELECTRIC BOOGALOO
RHYS
Isure as shit didn’t miss that.
My dick reminded me every damn time I saw or thought of Lo that I should fuck her till she couldn’t move without thinking of me. Till my dick was coated in her sweetness. Till she begged and begged.
I just hadn’t expected her to say it.
Or to double down—which was exactly what she did.
With a tilt of her head and a raise of her stubborn jaw, she met my gaze. “I guess that’s technically a statement, not a question, but you get the idea.”
“Lo…” The one word came out tortured before trailing off. Had more I should say. More I needed to say. But I couldn’t force the words out.
She held up her free hand. “Not now, of course. We’ll wait until all this is wrapped up.”
Christ, I’d made a mess of it.
Letting her think I was a cruel prick would’ve been the smart thing to do. I could’ve stopped touching her. Eased back. Just let sleeping dogs lie for the remainder of the time together, then waited the five minutes it would take for her to forget about me.
But I didn’t ’cause I had no control when it came to Lo. I couldn’t stand her thinking I didn’t want her. And that idea that I’d hurt her made me feel like I was coming outta my damn skin.
A lot of fuckin’ good that did when I was about to do it again.
“That can’t happen,” I forced out as I released my hold and took a big step back. “Not now. Not once this is done.”
“Why not?”
Yeah, why the hell not?
“You’re too young for me,” I reminded—whether it was for my benefit or hers, I couldn’t say.
“Not that young.”
“Okay, I’m too damn old for you.”
Her mouth twitched, and some of the brightness was back in her eyes. “It’s okay if you’re worried about keeping up. It’s a valid concern. I promise to go slow the first time.”
Fuckin’ hell, I’m gonna make a fool of myself and come in my damn pants if she keeps talking like this.
I swallowed a groan and clutched at that last thread of control. “The first time would be the only time.”
I expected a pout, scowl, or another mouth twitch.
Instead, it was a hot as sin smirk that curved those fuckable lips. “If you say so.”
“I do.”
“Sure.”
I scrubbed my palm down my face. “There are things I like—”
“I know. Harlow told me.”
“And look what happened. That was the start of you freezing me out, and I highly fuckin’ doubt she told you more than a vague idea.”
“That wasn’t why.” At my skeptical eyebrow raise, she rushed on.
“I’m serious, that part wasn’t a surprise.
My problem was that she said you made women call you Sir.
All I could think about was how disgusted you looked when I said it, even though we both knew I hadn’t meant it that way.
Add in the rest, and I wanted nothing to do with you beyond my job. ”
Fuckin’ hell fuck, that burned.
My gut clenched like I was swallowing hot sauce with a magma chaser. “That’s good. You shouldn’t.”
“Okay.”
I…
What?
My gaze narrowed. “I’m serious, Lo.”
“So am I, Rhys.”
Christ.
If she was mine, she’d pay for that smart mouth till she begged for it to be filled.
“This will never happen.”
“Agreed.” With enough attitude to have me gritting my teeth in frustration while also somehow getting harder, Lo flipped that long hair and walked to the door.
Pausing just as she reached it, she shot me a saccharine smile.
“It’s a shame you and your old man knees weren’t up to the task.
It could’ve been fun. But we’ll keep things professional, barman. ”
And then she was out the door.
What the hell just happened?
It was good. Better than good. We were on the same page, and even with that last dig, she’d made the tough conversation easy.
So why the hell did I feel like I was about to walk into a haunted house stockpiled with booby traps?
I was about to follow after Lo when she hurried back toward my office. Yes, I knew how her steps sounded. And yes, it was exactly as pathetic as it sounded.
What new insult did she think of that she wants to add?
When she came through the open doorway, though, she wasn’t Lo. She was Detective Oscar. I was already braced when she moved right to me and showed me her phone screen.
Bestie:
Incoming.
“What’s that—” I started before my head security guard knocked.
“You’re never gonna believe who’s here,” Warner said.
“Our besties in blue?” I drawled like it was a shot in the dark and not a message on screen in front of me.
Warner touched his nose. “Bingo, boss.”
“Show ‘em back.”
When he left, Lo pushed her body closer to mine.
Wasn’t sure whether it was for the cover or privacy, but I used the opportunity to whisper, “You know what this is about?
I also used the opportunity to hook my finger into her belt loop, but that was muscle memory and nothing more.
“You know as much as I do.”
Can this night get worse?
Of course it could get worse.
It was like when someone said the night had been slow or smooth. Only a dumbass issued that challenge to the universe ’cause without fail, shit would go off the rails.
In my case, the night went from bad to worse thanks to that happy little puppy cop Lo left with the night of the shooting. I’d watched her grab his shirt and drag him to the car.
The kid looked like he’d swallowed his damn tongue when he came into my office and stared at her.
I got it. Fuck, did I get it. I had a soft spot for those shapeless suits she wore, but her in the casual jeans and tight top?
No one stood a chance. It was a shock he hadn’t offered up his shirt again so she could pull him wherever she wanted, an eager pup on a leash.
It also made me wonder if that was a frequent occurrence. Maybe he was someone she fucked around with in her real life. Someone without old man knees who could keep up.
Every shared look or whispered comment between the two of them had me giving serious consideration to breaking his jaw under the claim it was part of the undercover shit. Even if no one bought the bullshit excuse, it would’ve been worth it.
Since the dynamic duo in uniform knew who she was and had clearly been tipped off about what was happening, their investigation into the call about us being overcapacity was quick and surface-level.
To be fair, there wasn’t much for them to even pretend to do.
Tumbleweeds might as well have been rolling through.
They’d still interviewed everyone to make it seem good and legit.
It’d been late enough when they left that I’d told my crew to close up early and get some rest.
That was what I should’ve been doing, too.
Instead, I was staring at the unread text on my phone.
Me:
You good?
Could be Lo was sleeping. Hell, that was likely the case.
But after our conversation followed so closely by the fake call, I wanted to be certain.
Slipping my boots back on, I didn’t bother with the laces as I walked outside. I’d expected her townhouse to be calm and dark. Or at least dim.
Instead, the living room light shone brightly through the curtains.
Shit, that’s not a good sign.
I might’ve been able to see through the gap in the window, but I wasn’t stupid enough to creep outside of a woman’s house. Especially when that woman was a badass who paired her cute pajamas with deadly weapons. For all I knew, her house was as booby-trapped as her personality.
A fact that shouldn’t have made me hard, yet there we fuckin’ were.
I’ll knock real quick and make sure she’s okay.
My steps faltered at the bottom of the stairs that led up to her stoop when she yelled, “Give it to me!”
And then I’ll kill whatever motherfucker is in there with her.
“I can take it,” she added, just as loud. Frantic. Desperate. “Yes, I can. Now give it to me, or I’ll take it away. And you will not like how I do that!”
I stormed up her steps and was about to beat the door down when it was thrown open.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, not waiting around for my answer. She stepped onto the landing, gun raised as she scanned the area. “What’s happening?”
“I could ask you the same damn questions.” I walked into her house without hesitation or invitation and looked around for a man.
A sorry bastard.
A future dead body.
I moved toward the hallway. “Where is he?”
What kind of pussy hides and leaves her alone? Getting rid of him is doing her a favor. She should be thanking me.
Lo rushed to keep up with me. “Who?”
“Whoever you were just talking to.”
Bathroom was empty. I turned and pushed open the door on the opposite wall just as Lo shouted and shoved me out of the way to slam it closed again.
Too late.
Too damn late.
“What has gotten into you?” she snapped.
That time, I didn’t need to ask her the same damn question. I knew what had gotten into her.
A pink silicone toy.
One that was still sitting on the folded towel on her tiny bed.
That image, and the ones it inspired, were a permanent addition to my brain, but I pretended I hadn’t seen it. I tried to, at least. I was still staring at the door like I could see through it, but I managed not to ask about it.
Or demand to see a demonstration.
“There’s no one here,” she said. “What’s your problem?”
I didn’t have an answer, so I went with evasion. “Did you borrow that bed from a jail cell?”
She scoffed. “I wish. That thing is worse than the couch.”
“Don’t think that’s possible.” Realizing how badly I’d misread the situation, I finally looked at her. Really looked at her.
Christ, she was gorgeous.
Her long hair was in a bun, but not the tight kind at the back of her head. It was gathered in a messy bundle at the top with freed pieces that framed her flushed face. She had headphones around her neck, but before my brain could fully process them, my focus dropped to her shirt.
Or rather my shirt.
I knew it was my flannel thanks to the blood stains and the tear in the arm that happened during our mutual tackle. The sleeves were rolled out of the way, but the oversized shirt still hung halfway down her thighs. Much to my disappointment, her legs were covered by a pair of floral pajama pants.
I couldn’t believe she’d kept it.
And wore it.
Was she wearing it when she played with her pussy?
Was she thinking about me?
Imagining it was me making her come?
I looked back at her face in time to catch her flinch. I assumed she was embarrassed about stealing my shirt, but that wasn’t it.
“Sorry,” she rushed out. “Shit. My bad. Something happened here.”
“What are you…” My words trailed off when she hurried away from me like I wasn’t even there.
I followed her into the living room and watched her carefully set her gun on the table—within reach, of course—before snatching something off the couch. No longer on the hunt for the fictional man, I finally paid attention to what was happening.
A video game.
She was playing a damn video game.
I’d seen the console while I’d waited for her to get dressed the week before, but I hadn’t given it much thought.
She distractedly held up a finger to me before she tugged the headphones into place.
“I’m here. I’ll get it back. I said I’ll get it back.
” There was silence before she gave a sarcastic laugh.
“Right. I’m sure. How about this? Whoever gets it has inventory choice.
” Another beat of silence. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. ”
A countdown started on screen. As soon as it reached zero, the game loaded fully. It was some shit with aliens and futuristic weapons. I had no clue what was happening other than Lo was locked the fuck in.
And she was good at it, too.
Her thumbs were a blur on the controller, and her real-life body ducked, dodged, and darted along with her character on screen. Her kill count racked up fast, but her pretty face was set in a determined scowl till some glittery thing appeared in front of her.
“Cry harder, boys,” she said with an evil laugh. “Less than two minutes, and the precious is already back where it belongs. And now I’m logging off for the night.” She gave an even more evil laugh before exiting out and tossing the controller next to her gun on the coffee table.
There was something symbolic about the two next to each other.
And I was grateful she wasn’t holding either when she scowled my way. “Okay, what the hell is all this about?”
“I came by to check on you and thought I heard a struggle,” I lied.
Thankfully, she seemed to buy it. “Just the struggle of killing some extraterrestrial scum.”
“Right. Cool. Neat.”
What the fuck?
Neat?
When have I ever said neat in my life that wasn’t related to a drink?
Her lips tipped. “Very neat.”
I walked to the door. So close. So damn close to not making shit worse. But when I opened my mouth, I didn’t say goodbye like I’d intended. “It’s been long enough. And with the shit earlier, it makes sense for you to move in this weekend.”
“Whatever you say, barman.” She stood and moved to me as I opened the door. She grabbed it from my hold and looked up at me with a sweet smile. “Thanks for checking on me.”
Get the hell out before you do something stupid.
Worth it.
But stupid.
I lifted my chin and stepped onto the stoop.
“Hey.” Her smile turned from sweet to sinful in a blink. “If you ever want to be the one giving it to me and seeing how well I can take it, you know where to find me.”
And then she closed the door.
But not before I heard her evil laughter aimed my way.