Sawyer Dixon had been called a lot of things in his life but never Mr. Anaconda Cock. He kinda liked the nickname and his dick more than kinda liked the leggy redhead.
He gave her a slow up and down trying to process what his body had already put in the yes, please column. So this was who had been sliding shut-up-already notes under his door. If he’d have realized that, he would have found the time to come over before she’d tried to shake the fillings out of his teeth with what could barely be called music. The loose black T-shirt with a tattoo parlor logo gave only the barest of hint about what she was hiding underneath, but judging by her lean legs that seemed to go on forever, he was missing out on something good. Time to fix that.
He held out a hand. “Most folks call me Sawyer.”
She narrowed her brown eyes and ignored his hand. “Let me see your badge.”
Reaching into back pocket, he pulled it out again. “Why?”
“So I can flush it down the toilet.” She rolled her brown eyes. “So I can confirm its legit.”
“You have experience with law enforcement?” So did he a few times before giving up his dream of making it off the Miami Thunder practice squad and onto the roster. Then he’d woken up one morning and realized that was never going to happen. Thankful his mom had pushed him to get his criminal justice degree, he’d gone from Thunder black and yellow to police blue.
She took his badge without comment and looked it over. “So you didn’t like my choice of music to have sex by?”
For the past few weeks he’d been trying to fuck the memories of an undercover operation gone wrong out of his mind. It was better than falling into a bottle or worse, if a tad bit on the noisy side when done right. “We weren’t that loud.”
“Are you kidding me?” She put her hands on her surprisingly generous hips, just the kind that always make him look twice. “I could repeat verbatim every groan and squeal.”
The idea of her listening in turned him on more than he would have thought. He’d never been one for an audience, but if she was the on watching he just might find his inner exhibitionist.
“You’ve been taking notes, huh?” The instant flush in her cheeks had him imagining all the things she could have been doing while listening. “Did you have a favorite part?”
“I think it was oh baby, oh baby, shut the fuck up now so the neighbors can sleep.” She nodded. “Yeah, that was my favorite.”
He laughed. Hard. He couldn’t help it. It had been years since a woman had done more than bat her eyes at him. He’d thought being a ball player at a division one school followed by nearly making the Thunder had taught him all he’d thought he needed to know about the fairer sex. Add to that his experience the plethora of badge bunnies he’d enjoyed since he’d given up the gridiron and he couldn’t remember the last time a woman had been so immune to the charms he’d spent a lifetime taking advantage of.
His front door opened and his date for the night, Annabeth, took a half step out into the hallway. She wore only a strategically buttoned dress shirt of his that barely covered enough to keep her from a pubic indecency charge.
“Are you coming back, Sawyer?” Annabeth asked, her stiff body language, even in the sexy getup, letting him know the offer still stood but the clock was ticking. “I’m getting cold.”
“In a minute. Just clearing things up with my neighbor.”
Annabeth nodded and went back inside, shutting the door behind her.
“Does she realize clothes might be a solution?” his neighbor asked.
He glanced back at her. The T-shirt might reach down to a few inches above her knees, but he’d bet good money there was nothing but skin underneath. “You’re not wearing much more.”
“I’m not cold.”
“Nope.” He focused in on her lips. Pink and full they were the kind to inspire all sorts of fantasies. “You seem like the type to run hot.”
She pursed her pretty mouth. “Really? That works?”
His gaze dropped to the hard peaks of her nipples pushing against the thin cotton of her T-shirt. “You tell me.”
That earned him another flush of red across her cheeks. He wondered where else on her body the color spread and what he would need to do to make that happen.
“Just try to keep it down.” She started to close the door.
“Wait.” He stuck his foot in the doorjamb so she couldn’t shut him out. “What’s your name?”
“Do you really listen to that music, Penny?”
“Only when I’m planning your murder and imagining the sweet silence of solitary confinement.” She nudged his foot out of the way and shut the door in his face.
Sawyer stood there staring and wishing he could get her to come back out and spar some more. No light shone out of her peephole. No doubt she was on the other side of the door watching him. Now she’d have a mental picture to go with all the noises she’d been listening to. He hoped she liked it.
After giving the closed door a slow wink and a salute, he turned and went back to his own condo. The temptation to go back and put on a show for pretty Penny was strong, but the blonde bombshell waiting in his bed held little appeal. Instead, all he could think about was how to get the pissed off Penny naked and between his sheets.
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