Page 31 of Savage in the Streets

“Next thing you know, I’ll be representing you for arson.”

“How hard would it be to get me off?”

Why don’t I take you into my bedroom and show you?

“Barely an inconvenience.”

She treats me to a mischievous smile. What really throws me off is how casual she’s acting around me after last night’s kiss. Does she perchance believe it was a dream? I want to know if she was up all night thinking about it like I was.

“How are your other cases going?” she asks.

“Not bad. I delegate a lot of the work, so it’s not disturbing anything right now. I will have to appear in court next week.”

“Oh no, whatever will you do? I mean, a criminal will be lurking around your apartment. That’s pretty serious.”

“I’ve recently acquired a set of handcuffs which will assist with the times I need to be away.” I cast her a wink.

Excitement lights those dazzling green eyes of hers. “Yes, please!”

My cock jolts in my pants, desperate to get my attention. I focus on maintaining eye contact, trying to hide that at this moment, I have about as much control as a horny teenager.

“Is that why you cause so much mischief? You love getting caught?” I say, ever cautious of where this conversation could lead.

“Once again…you’re the one who decided to pack my handcuffs.”

“Because when your place inevitably gets tossed, I wanted to make sure they couldn’t pose a problem for you. Police-grade handcuffs provoke questions.”

“It’s not illegal to own handcuffs. You were just looking for an excuse to shove my smutty toys in my face.”

“Now, why would I do something as immature as that?”

“Because you have a two-foot stick shoved up your ass and don’t know how to let go and have fun.”

“Darling, the two-foot stick shoved up my ass implies that to the right crowd, I can very much let go and have fun.”

Her face goes blank. “Oh…”

“What? Why are you making that face?”

“I didn’t realize that you were gay. I guess things make sense now.”

“No—that’s not what I meant,” I snap back, flustered. “And what do you mean by ‘makes sense now.’ Am I radiating gay energy or something? After last night…”

I trail off, cursing myself for alluding to my show of weakness.

She looks around. “Your placeiswell decorated.”

“Because I hire the best interior designers.”

“And it’s so clean.”

“The maid.”

“Yeah, but guys don’t care about that.”

“Maybe the bums you hang out around don’t, but I have a reputation to uphold, and I aim to avoid sloppiness.”

“Yeah, sure…”