“Funny.”
Her chest rises and falls with her steady, even breaths, and with her hands on her hips and rain dripping down her body, she looks like a fucking wet dream. The way her shorts and sports bra cling to her skin leaves nothing to the imagination. The dress she had on earlier didn’t cover much, but this…
Fuck me.
Mila cocks an eyebrow at me, waiting for me to tell her why I stopped her, but I’m stuck in this moment, my eyes eating her up while her erect nipples invite me to come and play. The feeling of my dick twitching in my now-soaked jeans breaks me from my thoughts.
Potentially Bastian’s girl, Liam. Get your shit together.
Mila starts to turn away, and I move forward, gripping her elbow to stop her. She turns to face me and yanks her arm from my grip. Fury burns in her emerald glare as though she can’t believe I dared to touch her.
“Get in the car. I’m taking you home; it’s not safe here.”
My words come out in a near whisper, almost drowned out by the rain pounding around us.
“I can take care of myself,” Mila spits.
“You’re going to get yourself killed, Mila.”
She takes one step toward me, and I just manage to keep myself from stepping away from her. She’s pissed that I’m in her face trying to make sure she was safe, even if she’s just exercising. My badge and conscience won’t let me walk away from her in this situation. I know she’s not running out of fear, but she could be at some point tonight.
“Is that a threat?” she challenges.
It’s almost comical how quickly she becomes enraged by my mere presence. I’m enjoying the fact that just the sight of me grates on her nerves.
The night has grown even darker and colder, the icy pricks of rain pelting my skin like tiny needles. Despite my amusement, I’m growing tired of her attitude, and I need to get her out of harm’s way and get home.
“I’m a cop. The only threat to you is lurking in the dark corners of the street.”
I run my hands down my face in annoyance when she makes no move to get inside the car.
“Get in the fucking car.”
The battle I see in her eyes takes me off guard. A battle over what, I have no idea. I straighten, my tall frame towering over her. Mila raises her chin in a challenge, her movements unwavering. And, just like that, I’m bored. The only warning I give her before picking her up and throwing her over my shoulder is a mischievous smirk.
Unfortunately, this puts her pert ass level with my face. Fucking hell. The temptation to turn and take a bite is almost enough to make me put her back down. She hurls loud curses at me, calling me every name in the book as she squirms, trying to escape my hold.
Bastian would probably frown on me slapping her ass and telling her to behave. I hold back and blow out a frustrated breath before opening the rear door of my car and tossing her in the backseat.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Mila yells, repositioning herself on her hands and knees and giving me another perfect view of her ass.
She glares at me over her shoulder, but I just stand outside the door. Jesus. Her wet shorts show every curve and crevice. Licking my lips, I admire the view and bite the inside of my cheek to stifle a groan when I realize she’s not wearing any underwear.
I notice a tattoo on her lower back with the word Wicked displayed in intricate lettering, and I wonder what kind of wicked things this woman could get into. I want to run my finger along that word. The taste of copper from biting my cheek snaps me out of my reverie, and I shut the door.
As I slide into the car, the leather seat protests against my wet clothes, and I groan as I adjust myself in my seat.
Mila sits with her arms crossed; at least she’s no longer presenting herself, invoking thoughts of how I’d like to bury myself inside her from behind. She glares at me in the rearview mirror, and I smile at her, satisfied that she’s safe in the back of my car and unable to get out should she decide to bolt.
“See something you like?” I wink at her, receiving a narrowed look of distaste in return.
“This is kidnapping,” she mumbles.
Belting out a laugh at her irritation, I ignore her words and turn the heat all the way up to warm us both. I get the feeling she wouldn’t tell me that she’s cold, but there’s no way she isn’t. If she wanted to get away from me, she would have put up more of a fight than she did.
Mila’s wet hair begins to curl around her face. The paleness of her skin makes her emerald eyes pop even more, the abnormal emerald green startling. Gorgeous.
Dangerous.