Page 161 of A Little Tempting

“My hoodies, huh?”

I swear I can feel her smile against me as she gifts me with another quiet laugh. “It’s cute how you think they still belong to you.”

“Oh, so they don’t belong to me anymore?”

“I mean, I’m a seasoned felon now, remember? Stealing a hoodie or two is practically a cakewalk.”

“Someone’s cocky…joking about their rap sheet already, and all.”

“Speaking of cocky and prison.” She grabs my junk through my jeans and squeezes. “You should fuck me now.”

Amusement spreads through me as I pick her up and toss her onto my bed. “If I knew handcuffs got you so hot and bothered, I would’ve introduced you to them earlier.”

“Are you kink-shaming me?”

Jumping on top of her, I grab her wrists and pin them above her head. “Never.”

And dammit, I mean it.

43

REEVES

It’s been two weeks since Dylan’s arrest. Neither of us has heard anything from my dad, but we did receive a letter from Officer McDonnell. He promised he was taking care of things from his end. He also promised we won’t have any trouble with the precinct or his partner ever again. I couldn’t help but smile when he didn’t refer to the asshole as my dad, proving McDonnell’s an even better man than I assumed. Part of me doesn’t want to believe him. The other part? Well, I suppose Dylan’s optimism is rubbing off on me. I guess we’ll have to wait and see.

Regardless, it’s been the best two weeks of my life. Dylan sleeps in my room every night. I even survived another brunch with the entire family. And my first name has started gaining traction with Dylan and her parents. I like it. A lot.

We just finished a game against the Grizzlies. We won, and fuck me, seeing Dylan on her feet, her hands cupped around her mouth as she cheered us on was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.

“Hey.” Griffin’s shoulder falls into the locker beside my own.

I slap the metal door closed and turn to her brother. “Hey. What’s up?”

“A girl’s here asking about you.”

“A girl?”

“Yeah.” He sighs. “Look, I know you’re retired, but?—”

Adrenaline pulses through my veins as I shake my head. “I swear I’m done.”

“Don’t worry, man,” he grumbles. “I trust you, but the girl’s still asking for you. You gotta get rid of her.”

My head bobs on autopilot, and I slip past him, heading to the exit.

The heavy metal door slams against the cinder blocks as I shove it open. People are still hanging around after tonight’s win, but only one is staring at me. Expectantly. Anxiously. But with an edge of doubt I’ve seen a hundred times.

Fuck.

Pushing herself off the wall, she strides toward me, her arms folded and her head tilted toward the floor as she glances over her shoulder, scanning the corridor for the boogeyman.

She’s pretty. Dark brown hair. Highlights. Petite. Sunglasses cover her eyes, and the asshole in me wants to point out that if she’s trying for subtlety, she’s failing. Badly. If I had a nickel for every damn time a girl showed up in glasses after an abusive dick got his hands on her, I’d be rich.

The dark frames hide her eye color, and my chest deflates as she keeps her gaze glued to the floor, approaching me cautiously. Carefully. Like I mightbethe said boogeyman. Despite seeing it more times than I can count, it still leaves me feeling like shit, especially since I can’t be the one to help her.

“You were looking for me?” I ask.

The tip of her tongue darts between her lips, and she sucks the plump flesh into her mouth but stays quiet.

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