Free Your To Take - Connaghers 03 by Joely Sue Burkhart Page B

deliberately pick out something to wear for
Reyes, I bet you’d choose red or black, right? This is totally unexpected. It
screams innocence and shyness, a direct contradiction to your personality. If
you were to slip this little baby on for your cop, I guarantee he’ll swallow
his tongue in surprise, and then blow a gasket trying to get you out of it.”
    Doubtfully, she took the hanger off the rack to examine the
negligee closer. She tried to picture herself in it and failed. Just thinking
about it made her feel awkward, shy and stupid, none of which she typically
felt, especially around Elias. He brought out the vixen—rather, the
crocodile—in her. Not the blushing virgin.
    Maybe that’s exactly Jesse’s point.
    He stepped close enough to whisper. “Hold it up to you. Let
me imagine you wearing it.” For me.
    He didn’t say the last words out loud, but she heard the longing
in his voice and read the intensity in his body. Could he be right? Would Elias
like her in such a feminine, innocent-looking nightgown?
    She held the negligee beneath her chin and watched Jesse’s
eyes flare wider, darken to the mysterious lost-lagoon depths.
    “If you think it’s too…”
    “Virginal,” she said wryly.
    His mouth quirked and he dipped his head. “Then wear
something brazen beneath, like a see-through thong. Or better yet, nothing at
all.”
    She arched a brow at him in warning but he only grinned wider.
“That reminds me. You need underwear and socks. Hmmm, I wonder what size you
are?”
    Since he was so close, it was easy enough to reach around
his waist and slide her fingers down the back of his saggy jeans in search of
the waistband tag.
    Mistake. Huge. Because instead of cotton, her fingers met
only bare skin.
    “Jesse. You’re not wearing any underwear.”
    A muffled gasp drew her attention. A blushing, wide-eyed
saleslady stared at them.
    “No, ma’am.” Whispering, he dropped his head and allowed his
shoulders to droop, that automatic, innate signal of surrender she recognized
despite her refusals to ever consider learning more about the BDSM lifestyle as
her brother urged. “Extras were a luxury, and I don’t mind going without.”
    Glaring at the ogling saleslady, Vicki shoved her hand down
farther. Her index finger lodged between his cheeks, the rest of her hand
cupping his buttock. Jesse quivered beneath her grip but otherwise didn’t move
a muscle, while the saleslady flushed even darker and finally whirled to disappear
down a side aisle.
    She tried to keep her voice firm instead of sultry, but her
voice sounded like she’d slugged a flask of Jack Daniels. “I thought we agreed
to no flirting.”
    “Um, it’s your hand down my pants, ma’am.”
    She couldn’t help leaning into him, squeezing firmly,
letting him feel how strong her hands were. She’d grown up on a ranch and
although she had two older brothers, her parents had always believed in hard
work for every single person in the family. “What did I tell you to call me?”
    “I can’t.” He breathed short and fast. “If I say your name
while you’re touching me like this, I might not be able to control myself.”
    His erection throbbed against her stomach. Closing her eyes,
she fought off the urge to slide her hand around to the front of his pants
instead. Not here, not now. Get a grip, Vik .
    She gave him one last squeeze and slowly pulled her hand up
out of his jeans, but she slid her palm higher, up beneath his shirt along his
back, stroking less private skin. “I can’t seem to stop touching you.”
    “I’m not complaining.”
    Of course her continued stroking did nothing to ease his
discomfort, and they certainly couldn’t walk around the store like this.
Reluctantly, she pulled away to give him some space. “Let’s get out of here. I
need to see Victor right now.”
    “Your brother? But I’m not ready for an interview. I should
change—”
    “Not your interview.” Her mind whirled, as unsettled as her
stomach.