I glance over at Lane. He’s standing there in silence, his green eyes boring into me. Actually, they’re boring a couple of inchesbelowmy face.
Lewis grins. “Laney?”
“What are you staring at?” I bristle, knowing all too well what the problem is. I cross my arms over my chest and frown. “Are you kidding me?” I tap my foot. “Are you seriously staring at my boobs?”
He blinks and pulls a face. “No fucking way!”
“He’s using his X-ray vision to see under your T-shirt,” Lewis says.
“Or maybe he’s using his superpowers to dry it,” suggests Don.
“That kind of look usually gets them wet though…” Lewis waggles his eyebrows seductively.
“Oh fuck off. I wasn’t looking at her tits.” Lane punches Donovan’s arm. “I was thinking.”
Lewis laughs, scratching his chin. “Yeah, I spend a lot of timethinking, too.”
I wrap myself in the towel and watch them volley back and forth until I can’t take it anymore.
I turn on my heel. “Whatever, I’m going to get changed.”
Lane points at me. “I wasnotchecking you out, Lois.”
“Fine!” I throw my hands into the air.
“And I’ll drive you home. No discussion. Meet me in the parking lot.”
“Fine!” I say in exactly the same tone.
I push open the door to the changing rooms and storm out.
13LANE
Iwas totally checking her out.
“Are you going to slow down, or is the idea to get us killed?” Lois asks from the passenger seat.
I was checking out those fucking perfect, rock-hard nipples piercing through all that wet fabric.
“Lane!”
“I wasn’t looking at your boobs!”
Shit. That’s not what I meant to say.
“Jesus Christ, I get the message already. Say it one more time, and I swear: I’m ripping off this T-shirt and shoving your dumb, stupid face between my tits.”
As soon as she says it, I start picturing the scene. A surge of electricity ripples straight to my dick, and I wince.
“No need to look so grossed out,” she hisses.
I open my mouth to correct her but decide against it. I don’t want her getting any ideas. It’s just a basic guy reflex. Nothing to do with her personally.
I hit the gas, doing my best to ignore her whining.
“What’s the rush?”
“Carter is waiting for me at home. We have work to do.”
