Free Scarlet by Tielle St. Clare Page B

her tonight. Cain
had sex with her last night .
    Paxson dragged his gaze to his desk.
    “Perhaps you’d like to put your dress back on,” he said,
keeping his eyes averted.
    “Oh, right. Sorry.” She bent over and Paxson couldn’t help
but watch the sweet curve of her backside.
    No, no, no. Don’t look.
    What was it about this woman and her body that captivated
him? He’d been face to face with a half-dozen topless showgirls and all he’d
done was nod and move on but with Heather, he couldn’t seem to control his own
body.
    Maybe it was because he hadn’t had sex in a long time,
though six months wasn’t that long, right?
    He half turned away, giving her a moment to pull up the
dress but instead, he heard the rustling of bags. The sound intrigued him
enough to turn back around.
    Breath left his lungs as if he’d been punched in the gut.
Heather stood there, bent over, digging through shopping bags. Her long auburn
hair hung down around her face. Her legs seemed endless. The red panties hugged
the sexy curve of her ass. He tipped his head to the side to watch her breasts
but she shifted just enough that he could only see the silhouette. She looked
like one of those sexy pin-up girls, teasing him with hints of skin.
    “Uh, Miss, I thought you were going to put your dress back
on.”
    She whipped her head around, peering up at him through
strands of red hair. “God no. I am never putting that thing on again. Not
taking the chance.”
    “Uh—” He wasn’t sure what to say to that.
    “Just give me a second. I’ve got the perfect—” She didn’t
finish the sentence. She yanked a t-shirt out of a bag. Holding it to her
chest, she spun around and faced him, the look in her eyes positively devilish.
“Do you have scissors?”
    The pale pink shirt barely covered her, again tempting him
with the chance to see those perfect breasts.
    “Scissors?”
    “Yeah. To cut off the tags.” She pushed the t-shirt toward
him.
    “No! Uh, here.” He opened his desk drawer and grabbed the
scissors, handing them to her before he looked away. But instincts bred into
him from his years as a cop would not let him turn his back on someone he
didn’t know, particularly someone who now had a weapon.
    He kept her at the edge of his vision, trying to ignore the
sensual movements of her pulling the t-shirt over her head, the soft bounce of
her breasts. Once her upper half was fully covered, he felt a little more
confident in turning around.
    Bad idea . The t-shirt clung to her breasts like a
second skin, the tight peaks poking through the cotton. She wasn’t wearing a
bra so his mind just dismissed the t-shirt as unimportant, visualizing her
naked once again.
    Pax licked his lips, his mouth suddenly dry and damn…she
bent down again and pulled out a strip of black cloth. It looked plain to him,
until she stepped into it and started to shimmy it up her legs. She wiggled and
squirmed as the material stretched over her ass. The skirt stopped near the
tops of her thighs, leaving her long legs bare.
    Somehow he’d always attracted petite little things, women
who made him feel huge.
    But Heather was just a few inches shorter than him. Tall,
slim with just the right amount of curves, curves that fit perfectly against
him. And the way she carried herself showed she had some strength. Maybe he
wouldn’t feel like he was going to crush her when he was on top of her.
    Or better yet, she could be on top of him. Yeah, he liked
that idea. Those long legs straddling his hips. His cock twitched.
    He blinked and reminded himself that she was sleeping with
Cain.
    But it’s only been one night. How serious can it be?
    He shook the thought away. Cain was his friend. He cleared
his throat and waited for her to finish dressing. She did up the zipper,
flipped her long hair back away from her face and stood before him, chest
forward, hip cocked to the side.
    And a definite look of interest in her eyes.
    Paxson swallowed deeply, hoping to knock the