Nice & Naughty by Tawny Weber Read Free Book Online

his voice was soothing and mellow, almost friendly. She wished he’d stuck with the uptight tone.
    “Compared to what?” she asked, furious at the tears clogging her throat. She didn’t cry. Tears were useless, stupid. Even angry tears.
    “Compared to what my place would look like if someone did this,” he said, his words teasing. “Car magazines ripped apart, boxers dangling from the lamp. A Speedo hanging in the window for all to see.”
    His mock shudder made her laugh.
    “Speedo?” Her now-clear gaze skimmed his body, from the T-shirt tight over hard, flat abs down his narrow hips. For just a second, she let her eyes rest on his zipper, imagining what he looked like in a teeny-tiny piece of spandex. She grinned, somehow sure he could make the fashion faux pas sexy.
    “Really?”
    “A gag gift from the guys at the station house. These thieves have no respect for quality, low or high.”
    Her eyes soft with appreciation for how easily he’d pulled her back from the edge of hysteria, Jade nodded. Well, well. Looked like Hottie Cop was more than just a gorgeous face and rock-hard body. Which qualified him as the hottest fantasy material she’d ever encountered.
    An empowered woman would go for it, right?
    Nerves danced the cha-cha in her stomach. She wanted hot sex. She wanted a fling. And she was empowered, dammit. But could she actually chase a perfect stranger with the intention of getting him naked?
    It was as if Santa had heard her wish, decided she’d been such a good girl that she deserved a chance to try her hand at being really, really bad. But only if she was brave enough to play.
    She wanted to be brave. She really did. But as she told the girls in her workshops, some things you had to work up to. Small, consistent steps. She swallowed hard, looking around the mess. Maybe she should clean up her underwear first. Then she could work on being brave.
    * * *
    D IEGO ’ D FIGURED that life’s little ironies were what kept things interesting. Or provided the best torture. It was always a toss-up which was which. Letting his gaze cruise over the woman in the doorway, he figured this was proof yet again. Without the intense four-inch studded boots, maybe five feet and four inches could be measured between her toes and the top of her pale blond head. Mussed and a little wild, her hair looked as if she’d shoved her hands through it a few times, letting the bangs flop down in a long sweep over her eye and down to her shoulders. Sharp, angled features, huge green eyes and lips made to give a man sweaty dreams rounded out the fairylike looks.
    Her body was a series of slender lines and soft curves. Legs nice enough to make his mouth water were tucked into boots that had enough edge to assure him that, despite her sweet face, she and the plethora of seductive lingerie were, indeed, well suited.
    “I know it’s difficult to tell, given the state of the room,” he said, trying to bring his focus back to the case instead of wondering how it’d feel to have her wrap those gorgeous legs of hers around his waist. Or better yet, over his shoulders. Diego closed his eyes for a second, trying to find control. Kinnison, he reminded himself, letting the name work like a cold shower. “But can you tell if anything’s missing?”
    “Not without going through it all,” she said. She took a deep breath, her breasts pressing against the heavy weight of that purple sweater and making his palms itch. “Can I touch anything?”
    A list of possibilities, all better fondled while naked, flashed through his mind. Diego blinked twice trying to clear the deliciously tempting images away.
    “Yeah, sure. Just touch the fabric, though. I need to dust the hard surfaces for prints. But I’ll wait until you get your delicates picked up.”
    Diego slid the black silk he’d picked up earlier between his fingers, luxuriating in the softness. He’d bet the blonde’s skin was even smoother, softer.
    Suddenly the crappy assignment