Page 254 of Property of Whiskey

Her smile goes wicked. “This flat enough?”

“You wear this shit on purpose?”

“My gear?”

“Calling it gear is generous.”

“You like it.”

“I’m considering buying every pair.”

Her hands go to my belt. “To burn?”

“To keep.”

“Creep.”

“Former kidnapper.”

She smiles.

My mouth goes to her neck while I drag one hand along the inside of her thigh.

She shifts toward me. “Whiskey.”

My fingers disappear beneath the leg of those tiny shorts and brush over the damp fabric between her thighs.

Her breath catches.

“All that from winning?” I murmur against her neck.

“Maybe.”

I rub my thumb slowly over her through her panties. “Liar.”

Her hips push against my hand. “You gonna interrogate me or do something useful?”

“Deputy, this is extremely useful.”

“Whiskey.”

“Yeah?” She puts a hand over my mouth, so I bite her palm.

She yanks it away. “Asshole.”

She grabs my shirt and pulls me closer. “I like this.”

“This?”

Her hips press against mine. “This.”

“Coward.”

“What?”

“Couldn’t say me.”

Her fingers stop at my belt.