Free Apache Nights by Sheri Whitefeather

out of bed, too.”
    â€œâ€™Fraid so. You and I are a team.”
    â€œYou’re a pain in the butt, Kyle.”
    â€œSo are you.” He pulled her up, using his chained arm. She made a sour face, and he stole a quick kiss. “But you’re a hell of a lay.”
    â€œGee, thanks.”
    He chuckled and grabbed the bubble bath and toy boat off the floor. “As long as we’re in there, we might as well soak in the tub.”
    She shook the metals cuffs. “In these?”
    â€œYep. In these. I’m not letting you go until morning.”
    â€œLucky me.”
    â€œDon’t get snide.” He hauled her into the bathroom and discarded the used condom. “I’m the best you’ll ever have. You’ll never want another guy after me.”
    â€œSuch ego.” She leaned over him while he filled the tub. Then she nibbled his bare shoulder.
    He smiled and poured the bubble bath into the water. Having her as a lover was better than he’d imagined.
    His first cop. His first Caucasian.
    He enjoyed her tough-girl attitude. But he appreciated her dreamy side, too. The lady who’d slipped into his arms after he’d banged her breathless.
    â€œThat’s enough,” she said.
    He turned to look at her. “What?”
    She grabbed the oceanic liquid from him. “You’re not supposed to use the whole bottle.”
    â€œSpoilsport.” He lowered the boat into the frothing foam. “SpongeBob wanted lots of bubbles.”
    â€œYou and SpongeBob are weird.”
    â€œSo are you.” He scooped her up, and she squealed like a teenager. He wanted to drop her into the bubbles, but he couldn’t, not while they were attached. Holding her was awkward enough. So he climbed into the tub and plopped down, making a dramatic splash and positioning her in front of him.
    The tub was too small for both of them, but he didn’t care. He opened his legs and bent his knees to make room for her. She leaned back and cozied her butt against him, shifting and moving and driving him to distraction. He moaned, and she laughed.
    â€œYou’re evil, Detective Riggs.”
    She wiggled her rear again. “I try.”
    â€œNo kidding.” He wound up the boat, and they watched it drive around in goofy little circles.
    He put his free arm around her. “Can you imagine what conjoined twins feel like? Being connected to each other all the time?”
    â€œIt’s all they know.”
    â€œUnless a team of doctors separates them.”
    She relaxed against him. “I’ll bet that’s even harder than being together. They probably miss each other afterward.”
    He rewound the boat when it stopped moving. “Probably.”
    Her voice turned soft. “Was it lonely for you being an only child?”
    The toy bumped his knee, a reminder of his mixed-up youth, of spinning in circles. “Maybe it would have been easier if I had brothers and sisters. They could have suffered with me.” He gave the boat a gentle push, away from his knee. “Misery loves company.”
    When Joyce moved her head, her hair tickled his chest. “Sometimes I used to yearn for privacy, but I wouldn’t trade my family for anything.”
    â€œWhere do you fit in?” he asked. “Are you the oldest? The youngest? Or are you one of the middle kids?”
    â€œI’m the oldest.” She heaved a barely audible sigh. “And I used to think I was the wisest. But I don’t think so anymore.”
    â€œBecause of what’s going on in your life?”
    â€œI’m my own worst enemy.”
    He contemplated her response. “You’re creating your own turmoil?”
    â€œYes.” She angled her shoulders, turning, tryingto look back at him. Between the cramped quarters and the handcuffs, her mobility was limited. “It’s my own fault.”
    Kyle was as confused as ever, but he didn’t expect to understand her.