Smexy Scene Sunday

Hero: Greer Burns. Lieutenant. Police academy trainer. Cold. Closed off. Just wants to get this latest group of recruits through training.

Heroine: Danika Silva. Police academy trainee with her two best friends. A natural born helper. Thinks Lt. Burns is a jerk.

In the following scene, Danika walks in on Greer after he’s taken a shower…

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…I stop dead as the locker room door opens. I have fast hands, faster then anyone, but I make no more to snatch the towel. To wrap it around my waist. Instead, I watch with fascination as Danika takes two steps into the room and skids to a halt, her startled brown eyes dropping to my naked cock.

“Shit, ” Danika squeaks, whirling back around. “I-I didn’t think anyone was in here.”

No help for my blood running south. None at all. I never took myself for a flasher, but hell if my dick didn’t lift and swell, wanting more of her attention. God knows I’m a rule follower, but conflict wages in my chest. She’s a recruit-and a woman-so I should cover my junk and pretend this never happened. But I meant what I said yesterday about cause an effect. She’s in an area where she shouldn’t be, once again flaunting the rules like they don’t apply to her. So I leave the towel right where it is.

“Do you need something?”

She peeks over her shoulders, probably assuming I’m decent by now, her shooting wide when I’m not. “I stayed a little late to run since tomorrow is classroom day and I wanted to feel good about sitting on my butt or whatever. But I left my towel at home, so I was just going to use a paper towel to dry off after my shower but there weren’t any in the girl’s locker room, so…”

I’ve never seen her ramble before, but knowing she’s nervous does nothing to ease the sting of my jealousy. In fact, having her near makes it fresher. Makes everything fresh. The self-disgust for creating a candy stash for my apartment. The amount of time I’ve spent imaging how her body heat would felt yesterday./ JHow it made me feel to be connected to someone, just for a few seconds. Ever since she showed up with her cocky attitude, challenging looks and big brown eyes, I’ve been less and less content. How dare she?

“You can in here for paper towels?

Her back stiffens, hands curling at her sides. “Yeah.”

I settled my hands on my hips. “Go get them, then.”

Without seeing her face, I know she is analyzing her route to the bathroom. She’ll have to bypass the shower where I’m standing naked, refusing to put on a towel. Honestly, I have no idea what the fuck is wrong with me. This is such a fantastic fucking breach of protocol. But I’m so exhausted and angry with myself-angry with her-because deep down to my very deepest layer, all I really want is her body heat again.

“Do you mind putting on a towel?”

[…]

When the towel is secure, I grunt to let her know the coast is clear. She peeks back and wets her lips, then moves like lightning toward the bathroom. Before she can reach it, though, I’m in front of her, caging her in against the lockers. She makes that damn sound. The one I’ve been replying to my dreams. its halfway between a moan and a cry. It’ s so throaty and honest, I feel every note in my belly.

“What are you doing?”

“Technically, going into the men’s locker is a violation of your probation.” My hands are flat on the lockers, our bodies separated by an inch and a prayer. “You’re not authorized to be in here.”

I expected her to argue or shove me. If she pushes me away, I’ll go. But she passes me a wobbly smirk instead. “And yet you seem to happy to see me.”

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