there.”
“What if it rains? My equipment costs—”
He cut her off. “It’s waterproof.”
“Why do you want me to get on that bike again so badly?”
“Why are you so resistant?”
Chloe wasn’t sure how to answer. They’d spent that entire summer so long ago on his motorcycle. It was the last time she’d felt carefree, wild, over-the-moon happy. He’d also driven off into the sunset on that motorcycle. While it wasn’t logical, it was easier to forgive Blake, the cop, the man who didn’t exist all those years ago, and hold on to her anger toward his bad-boy biker persona.
“I just don’t think they’re safe.”
Blake snorted at her obvious lie. “What day did you leave open for me?”
“Let me see. I’m popping over to Justin’s office this afternoon to take the pictures of Ned.”
“No box of chocolates in bed?”
Chloe thought she detected the slightest trace of relief in Blake’s voice. “He wouldn’t go for that. The most he would agree to was an open shirt with a tie hanging around his neck. We thought it would look cool if he was sitting at the head of a conference table. Set it up for today because none of the employees will be in the office since it’s a Saturday.”
“Sounds very tasteful.”
No doubt she and Justin had given him a bad impression of what the calendar was about. Truth was all the pictures would be PG with none of the men exposing more than their chests and arms. Her musician had been sitting sideways on his piano bench, shirtless, in a vest and simple black pants as he toyed with a couple of keys. While she’d selected the shot she wanted to use, she’d come down with the flu before she could tweak the print.
“It’s going to be a classy calendar.”
“Of mimbos,” he added.
She frowned, then a light went on. “You were eavesdropping on my phone call with Mama that first day.”
“Yep.”
She grinned wickedly. “Well, if you’re expecting me to take it back or revise my opinion, I won’t.”
Blake chuckled. “You will. Eventually. I’ll make sure of it.”
His deeply spoken threat was laced with just a hint of sexual malice. Chloe grew wet and warm at the thought of it. She pressed her legs together, suddenly annoyed at the way Blake could turn her into a raving sex maniac in mere seconds.
“In fact, what are you wearing right now?”
Chloe wanted to ignore his question, but that damn dirty book he’d given her had fired up some needs she really wanted taken care off. She hadn’t bothered to get dressed after her shower, just donning her robe.
She decided to play hard to get. “Why do you want to know?”
“Tell me, Chloe.”
“Just a robe.”
“Nothing under it?”
She shook her head, trying to ignore how hot his questions were making her. “Nothing.”
“Slip it open, but keep it on.”
Chloe rested her phone between her shoulder and head as she untied the belt around her robe.
She heard Blake chuckle softly. “There’s this feature on cells called speakerphone. Turn it on and put your phone down where you can still hear me. You’re going to need both hands.”
“Blake,” she started.
“Just do it.”
“Where are you?” she asked, suddenly worried about him initiating phone sex with her in the middle of the precinct.
“I’m at home. On my couch. Just got off-duty.”
She turned the speakerphone on and placed the cell on the table. “Okay.”
“Where are you in your apartment?”
“My kitchen table.”
“Nice. I want you to do what I tell you. Follow my instructions completely. If I suspect you’re cheating, I’ll come over there, toss you over my knee, and paint your ass red with my hand until you learn to obey.”
The feminist part of her was outraged and tempted to hang up on him, but, at the moment, her libido was currently making all decisions.
Blake appeared to have interpreted her silence correctly. “We both want the same thing right now.” His voice sounded more distant. Apparently
“What if it rains? My equipment costs—”
He cut her off. “It’s waterproof.”
“Why do you want me to get on that bike again so badly?”
“Why are you so resistant?”
Chloe wasn’t sure how to answer. They’d spent that entire summer so long ago on his motorcycle. It was the last time she’d felt carefree, wild, over-the-moon happy. He’d also driven off into the sunset on that motorcycle. While it wasn’t logical, it was easier to forgive Blake, the cop, the man who didn’t exist all those years ago, and hold on to her anger toward his bad-boy biker persona.
“I just don’t think they’re safe.”
Blake snorted at her obvious lie. “What day did you leave open for me?”
“Let me see. I’m popping over to Justin’s office this afternoon to take the pictures of Ned.”
“No box of chocolates in bed?”
Chloe thought she detected the slightest trace of relief in Blake’s voice. “He wouldn’t go for that. The most he would agree to was an open shirt with a tie hanging around his neck. We thought it would look cool if he was sitting at the head of a conference table. Set it up for today because none of the employees will be in the office since it’s a Saturday.”
“Sounds very tasteful.”
No doubt she and Justin had given him a bad impression of what the calendar was about. Truth was all the pictures would be PG with none of the men exposing more than their chests and arms. Her musician had been sitting sideways on his piano bench, shirtless, in a vest and simple black pants as he toyed with a couple of keys. While she’d selected the shot she wanted to use, she’d come down with the flu before she could tweak the print.
“It’s going to be a classy calendar.”
“Of mimbos,” he added.
She frowned, then a light went on. “You were eavesdropping on my phone call with Mama that first day.”
“Yep.”
She grinned wickedly. “Well, if you’re expecting me to take it back or revise my opinion, I won’t.”
Blake chuckled. “You will. Eventually. I’ll make sure of it.”
His deeply spoken threat was laced with just a hint of sexual malice. Chloe grew wet and warm at the thought of it. She pressed her legs together, suddenly annoyed at the way Blake could turn her into a raving sex maniac in mere seconds.
“In fact, what are you wearing right now?”
Chloe wanted to ignore his question, but that damn dirty book he’d given her had fired up some needs she really wanted taken care off. She hadn’t bothered to get dressed after her shower, just donning her robe.
She decided to play hard to get. “Why do you want to know?”
“Tell me, Chloe.”
“Just a robe.”
“Nothing under it?”
She shook her head, trying to ignore how hot his questions were making her. “Nothing.”
“Slip it open, but keep it on.”
Chloe rested her phone between her shoulder and head as she untied the belt around her robe.
She heard Blake chuckle softly. “There’s this feature on cells called speakerphone. Turn it on and put your phone down where you can still hear me. You’re going to need both hands.”
“Blake,” she started.
“Just do it.”
“Where are you?” she asked, suddenly worried about him initiating phone sex with her in the middle of the precinct.
“I’m at home. On my couch. Just got off-duty.”
She turned the speakerphone on and placed the cell on the table. “Okay.”
“Where are you in your apartment?”
“My kitchen table.”
“Nice. I want you to do what I tell you. Follow my instructions completely. If I suspect you’re cheating, I’ll come over there, toss you over my knee, and paint your ass red with my hand until you learn to obey.”
The feminist part of her was outraged and tempted to hang up on him, but, at the moment, her libido was currently making all decisions.
Blake appeared to have interpreted her silence correctly. “We both want the same thing right now.” His voice sounded more distant. Apparently
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