Page 25 of Fierce-Colson

Just because she wore a power suit didn’t mean she didn’t want to feel like a woman under it.

Her little secret.

Only putting that on the table wouldn’t make it a secret anymore.

“Nope,” he said. “Unless you want to say that you got to bypass the rules.”

She lifted her chin. “Frisk me.”

He looked stunned by her response. “It’s right at your chest,” he pointed out.

She leaned in close, her voice low, a touch of feminine power behind it. “It’s not like you haven’t felt them before.”

He gulped.

Why did this feel so reckless?

Because it was Colson. Because she trusted him with anything.

Even this.

He’d be respectful. But maybe she didn’t want him to be.

And that grin on his face, it just split even wider.

He got behind her, leaned close to her ear. “If you say so.”

His hand started at her waist, his fingers spread wide, felt around under her jacket, then moved up her ribs. This shouldn’t feel sexual.

But it totally felt sexual.

Then his hands moved up to the bottom of her bra, around the back, then around the front.

This time she gulped. She shivered.

His laughter in her ear said he felt it.

“Find anything?” she asked when his hands dropped away slower than they probably should have.

The air was tight. It was thick. It was heating up.

His laughter brushed the shell of her ear, low and warm, telling her that yes, he was enjoying this way too much.

“Find anything?” she asked again, because if she didn’t speak she might actually combust in this silence.

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “Your problem.”

She swallowed. “And?”

“And it’s definitely the underwire.”

His fingers skimmed once more, professional, technically, but slower than necessary. Mapping the edge of the bra beneath her blouse. The contact was brief. Innocent enough to justify. The wand going the length of his finger to verify and cover his bases.

Talk about thoroughly doing his job.

“There,” he said. “You’re clear.”

Neither of them moved.