Page 57 of Wicked Takeover
“Yep.”
“Did you used to be a cop?”
He laughed. “Nope. I’m acquainted with quite a few, though.”
“Uh-huh. I’d ask if you were a former felon, but you don’t seem like the type.”
He was glad for that. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
“Sure. Did the cops clear out the park for you tonight?”
“It closed at sunset.”
“But they won’t arrest us because you set this up with them.”
He knew Lauren was a worrier, but he had no idea why she was so stuck on them being arrested. Maybe that was one of her fantasies she didn’t want coming true. “Do you trust me?”
“Yeah. It’s them I’m concerned about.”
“No need to be. They’re chasing down real criminals.” He led her across the parking lot and lawn to a massive banyan tree, its gnarled trunk nearly as wide as a house. In the distance, the city glittered, its bright lights bleeding into the water. He pulled a cotton blanket from the basket and spread it over the velvety grass.
“Down you go.” With his arm around her waist, he helped her to the ground.
When it came to her skirt, she folded her legs one way, then another, and kept tugging the material to cover herself.
Way too chaste for him. “Try sitting cross-legged. Pull up your skirt so I can see your bush.”
Her gaze darted everywhere, even though there wasn’t a soul around except them. She did as he suggested but pressed her skirt between her legs. “What else is in the basket?” She reached for it.
He pulled it away. “Show me yours and I’ll show you mine.”
Lauren snickered. After checking out their surroundings and seeing that they were still alone, though technically exposed, she folded back her skirt.
Wasn’t enough. “Higher. Push it to your waist. Hell, forget that. Take the damn thing off.”
She gave him a look reserved for naïve children or foolish men. “The hair doesn’t come off.”
“You know what I mean. Lose the skirt.”
Lauren pulled it to her upper thighs and left it at that.
He narrowed his eyes. “You do realize I could spank you out here and Gabe wouldn’t lift a finger to help you. Neither would any of the other guys. They’d cheer me on.”
“Gabe? Guys?”
“The cop we just passed and the other officers on the force who like me because I’ve never been a felon.”
She nodded. “Threaten me all you want. The skirt doesn’t move until you show me yours.”
“You asked for it.” He pulled two Skol bottles from the basket along with foil-wrapped packages and a paper bag.
Lauren examined the goods. “You brought French fries and sandwiches?”
She sounded surprised. Maybe disappointed.
Dante corrected her. “I brought Cubanos and plantain fries.”
She peeled back the foil on her Cubano, sighed at the savory scent, and leaned over to look into the basket.
