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Sienna stepped out of her pants, dragging her socks off at the same time, carefully not to let the gun clunk on the floor. Then she neatly folded the pants up and tucked them into her bag before zipping it closed.


In just her panties and tank tops, carrying the condom, she crossed the room back to Greg. He’d been slowly jacking himself during her striptease, and when she got to him, he reached out to her. She went to place the condom in his hand, but he batted her hand aside and instead curved his arm around her hips, dragging her off-balance so she collapsed partially on him. “C’mere,” he belated invited as she relied on him to keep her from crushing him or hitting the floor.

“I am here,” she muttered as she struggled to regain her bearings.


“On second thought…” He gripped her waist and lifted her to her feet, then bent to unlace his own boots.


She smirked as she recalled how frustrated he’d gotten with his limited mobility earlier. “Pants a bit too tight there?”


He kicked his boots under the desk and pulled off his socks. “Only when they’re around my legs, straitjacketing me. And I think I caught you enjoying my tight pants earlier,” he retorted as he shoved them downand off along with his black boxer briefs.


She’d been right—he was wearing an ankle holster, which he left in place. Then he stood, erection unflagging in front of him, and began to undo the buttons of his uniform shirt.


“That so?” she managed in response then swallowed heavily, recalling the weight of his cock on her tongue. Now that she was in her bare feet she was reminded anew of how imposing he was, and…


“Yep.” He pulled his shirt and tee off over his head, revealing a broad chest with heavy pecs. He didn’t have a single tattoo that she could see.


A virgin.


She smiled at the thought. It was rather unusual, though, as most of the officers she knew sported some sort of tat. Go down the line at the gun range and you’d be hard pressed to find a bare arm.


She pictured Greg in a shooting stance—shirtless—and her mouth went dry. God, it seemed as though she had a little bit of badge bunny in her. Knowing he was in law enforcement lit her up even more, or maybe itwas just being clear on the fact that he was one of the good guys.


Rather than come up with a response to continue the repartee, she grabbed the waists of her tank tops and ripped them up over her head in one smooth move. When they cleared her eyes, she was rewarded by the sight of Greg riveted on her upper chest. She grinned. Whether his gaze was on her tats or her tits, she wasn’t sure because—Sierra smirked—there wasn’t much space between the two.

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