He shook his head. It was like she’d woven some spell over him. He had to snap out of it.
“What happened to your lip?” he snapped more harshly than he’d intended.
Her eyes widened, and she froze. “I bit it. That okay with you?”
Nope. It wasn’t okay at all. He didn’t like that she was injured. Even if it was something she’d inflicted herself.
Get a grip, Joe.
“Who are you? What are you doing here?”
“Why the fuck would I tell you?” She stood, her hands crossed over her chest, a mutinous look on her face. Oh, how he wouldn’t mind wiping that look off her face. He could kiss her until she was looking soft and dreamy with lust.
Or just spank her until she apologized nicely then make her suck his cock.
Okay, where did that thought come from? This wasn’t him. He liked his sex pretty straight-forward. Some wining and dining. Romance. Soft lighting. A bed. Some oral sex for his partner to get her warmed up . . . he wasn’t into anything even remotely kinky.
And yet he couldn’t deny he’d gotten a bit of a thrill out of watching Sawyer spank the small female’s butt.
Prisoner. She was their prisoner.
He couldn’t forget that. He needed to keep a proper distance. The only thing that mattered was finding out who she was and what she was doing here. Everything else he could and would ignore. He needed to question her. Not think about her naked, tied to his bed, with his brothers and him fucking her.
His brothers? Since when did they feature in his fantasies? What the hell? He’d always known that when they found a mate, they would share her, but he thought they’d do it the normal way. That they’d take turns in her bed. That was how his fathers had shared his mother.
So why was he thinking about them all sharing her together? That was just wrong, wasn’t it? He shook his head. Time to get back to business. He was here to find out who she was. That was all.
“Anyone ever washed your mouth out with soap?”
Okay, so much for keeping this about her break-in.
“I’d like to see you fucking try,” she challenged.
“Oh, I’d have some pleasure in doing just that,” he growled back at her.
“I thought you were playing good cop.”
“This isn’t a game.”
“No, you’re right. Because, if it were, it would be more like crazy cop, horny cop and . . .”
“Yes?” he prompted.
* * *
Gigi attempted to prevent her fear from showing as she stared over at the quieter of the three brothers. And they had to be brothers. There was no denying they were related. That dark hair, those piercing, brown eyes. Sure, Mr. Hottie was more relaxed and oozed sex appeal, Wild Man could do with a shave and a haircut, plus he had the whole crazy eyes thing going on, and Mr. GQ looked like a fashion model, but they all looked too much alike not to be brothers.
What exactly would he be?
“Repressed cop,” she spat out before she thought better of it.
Probably best not to taunt a man when you’re locked in a tiny cell with him, Gigi. Yeah, well, she’d never been one to overthink things. That’s kind of how she’d ended up in this position to begin with.
Maybe it was time to start rethinking the way she ran her life.
Too bad she hadn’t figured that out before she’d been caught and tossed in this cell. At least now she wasn’t going to freeze to death. She was nice and toasty, being so close to Mr. GQ seemed to have a warming effect on her.
Damn him anyway.