He knew he was a big guy, and many had called him scary. It wasn’t an opinion he chose to remedy by acting like a teddy bear. No, fear was a good thing. Fear kept people at arm’s length and kept them from getting complacent and acting irresponsibly. Kept them from asking him too many questions. And yet, there was something about the little cop and the way her big blue eyes blinked at him that made him want to embrace the teddy bear side and pull her into a hug … or tear off her clothes and carry her back to his room. Either scenario would do.
“What can I do for you, Constable Matthews?” he asked. “Beer?”
She shook her head again. “No, thank you.”
He nodded again and drained his beer bottle. “You here for a booty call?”
Her eyes flashed up to his from where she’d been staring at his socked foot, propped up on the footrest of the recliner. “What? No!”
Another smile jostled his lips before he shrugged. “’Cause I wouldn’t say no. But I’m guessing based on the way you scurried around my bedroom, trying to silently collect your clothes, only to duck out of my house in the early morning and then walk-of-shame your ass back to the bar to get your car, you’re not interested in an encore.” He pouted. “Shame. You know I would have driven you if you’d just asked.”
She mutteredshitunder her breath.
He was about to open his mouth again and tease her some more when she cut him off. “Did you wear a condom the night we had sex?”
Now it was his turn to go all weird and awkward and quiet.
But it seemed like she’d finally found her voice and her spine. “Did you weara condom?” she asked again.
Fuck!
He couldn’t remember. Normally it was a no-brainer. He suited up before he fucked, but he’d had a few beers and he hadn’t been with a woman in a while, let alone one who revved his engine like the little cop. Just before she’d dropped the condom bomb on him, he’d been thinking about grabbing her curly red ponytail and tilting that sexy neck up for a kiss. Her lips were pouty and plump, and he could only imagine they would feel like heaven wrapped around his cock.
But he did none of that. Instead he just stared at her, trying to remember back to their hookup and whether he’d slapped on a rubber. He couldn’t remember. Couldn’t remember seeing one in the trash the next day or finding a wrapper on the floor.
Fuck almighty, had he really been that careless? That irresponsible?
Brock cleared his throat. “Uh, you not on the pill?”
She shook her head.
He swallowed. “I don’t remember using a condom.”
She gritted her teeth before answering. “I don’t remember you using one either.”
Fuck. He hadn’t beenthatdrunk. More justcaught up in the moment. But he’d never forgotten to use protection before. Fuck.
His mouth opened and then closed, and then opened, and then closed again. Had he blinked?
It didn’t feel like he had.
His eyes hurt.
His head hurt.
His heart was threatening to beat out of his chest.
Was he having a heart attack?
His left arm wasn’t in pain. That was a good sign. His eyes focused on Krista’s little feet, planted firmly on his hardwood floor. Her socks were hot pink and green with small orange cats on them. And for some bizarre reason they madehim want her even more.
With a hard swallow, he finally lifted his head. “Are you … ?”
She nodded.
“And it’s … it’s mine?”
She nodded again.
