Here's a taste of what's inside!

 

Boston: What are you doing?

Why did just the sight of his name send a thrill straight down low between my legs?

Eve: You ignore me all day and now you message me at nine? Is this a booty call?

I cringed after I sent it. It was a joke, but from the little I knew about Boston, there was a good chance the man couldn't take one.

Boston: I would have waited 'til ten for that.

Well, well. What do you know? Mr. Straight and Narrow did have a sense of humor.

Eve: Just as well. I would have turned you down.

Boston: You don't do booty calls, huh? Is that why you need a massive dildo with my name on it?

I blew out a breath and realized I was smiling. Touché, Officer Boston. Touché.

Eve: It was just a gag gift my friends got me. I really am sorry about that.

Boston: Don't be. Sorry I was short with you earlier. Shit day.

Eve: Me, too. Want to tell me about it?

Boston: You ever feel like you're having a midlife crisis?

Eve: I'm only thirty, so I hope not.

Boston: Same. But somedays I feel like I am.

Eve: You gonna spend your life savings on a flashy car and start dating an eighteen-year-old?

Boston: I'm a cop. My life savings total about three dollars.

I sniggered.

Eve: Want a stripping gig? Pay is good, and I know someone who could hook you up.

There was a long pause before he finally wrote back.

Boston: Is that your way of saying you want to see me naked?

I raised an eyebrow. Okayyyy. Well, that took a turn I wasn't expecting. It almost read like flirting.

Eve: Seems fair. You've seen me naked after all.

Boston: Yeah, but you look better than I do without clothes on.

​

I flushed hot at the compliment. Though I was pretty sure it was a lie. I'd seen the way his shoulders filled out his shirt, and the way his pants hugged his ass. He was a beat cop, and that required a fairly high level of fitness. Without him even removing a stitch of clothing, I was sure Joshua Boston's body was nothing short of exceptional.

​

Boston: Sorry. Inappropriate.

I typed back quickly.

Eve: Not inappropriate. Do you always do the right thing?

There was a pause, and then…

Boston: No.

I stared at that no for a long time.

Too long apparently.

Boston: Did you keel over from shock?

I grinned.

Eve: No, I'm just thinking about you being bad and I kinda can't picture it.

Boston: I've never been arrested if that's what you're thinking.

That was so not what I was thinking. My mind had gone straight to the gutter. I typed out a response with the hugest grin on my face.

Eve: Actually, I was still thinking about you naked.

​

I tapped long fingernails on the tabletop, knowing I should cut this off and go get ready for the show. I was still in the denim shorts and T-shirt I'd worn to my parents' place. It wasn't exactly stripping attire. But I knew the girls would cover me for as long as I needed.

And right now, I needed this. It had been a shitastic day, and flirting with Boston was a nice distraction from it.

​

Boston: Funny that. I haven't been able to stop thinking about you naked, either.

Eve: Seems unfair you've actually seen the real deal, though. I have nothing to base my daydreams on. I could be picturing you all wrong.

Boston: Tell me what you're seeing in your head, and I'll tell you if you're right.

​

Heat flushed the back of my neck. This was rapidly moving in the direction of sexting. I hadn't been expecting it, but I certainly wasn't going to turn it down. Not with Boston. I got up off my chair and locked the door before I replied.

​

Eve: Hairy back, bit of a hump, possibly a few scales…

Boston: I just spit my Coke out laughing.

​

I liked the idea of him smiling at my messages. I imagined him stretched out on his couch in a pair of gray sweats, one hand tucked behind his head while the other worked his phone. He was hot when he was scowling, I could only imagine how a smile would transform his face.

 

Eve: So, no scales?

Boston: No scales or humps. No hairy back either, for the record.

Eve: I don't believe you.

​

The next message that pinged in was an image.

I've never come so close to falling off my chair. “Jesus fuck,” I whispered.

It was a selfie in his bathroom. His back turned, one hand up, holding the phone to take the photo in a mirror's reflection. It didn't show his face, but it did show every inch of delicious, sculpted back.

No hair, scales, or bumps in sight.

I swallowed hard.

​

Eve: Okay, so your back is good. But now I'm thinking you're hiding something on your chest, since you conveniently left that out of the photo.

 

I went back to admiring the photo of his back, in particular, the lower half that narrowed into his hips and ass.

His ass looked damn good. And I knew he was a gray sweatpants sorta guy.

When my phone binged again, it was another bathroom selfie.

His body was more perfect than I could have even imagined. Any daydream I might have had about defined pecs and ripped abs was blown away by the real thing. For an insane moment, I considered licking the screen. That was how hot the man was.

​

Eve: Jesus Christ. Do you live at the gym?

Boston: Only every other week.

​

He lied. Nobody got a body like that by working out intermittently. His sweatpants hung low on his hips. So low they showed off his V lines and a tiny sliver of dark hair that disappeared beneath the waistband.

Perv that I was, I tried zooming in to check out what he had going on beneath it, but he was hidden behind the bathroom sink.

A flash of disappointment joined the heat coursing through my body. Did I dare carry on the game? Just how far could I push the man before he said stop?

I really wanted to find out. “Ah, fuck it. We've come this far, might as well push my luck a little more.”

​

Eve: Photo stops at your waist? Shame. I'd hate to think it was your dick that is your problem area.

Boston: Did you just ask me for a dick pic? I thought girls hated those?

Eve: We hate the unsolicited ones… Different story if we asked for one.

Boston: Are you asking for one, Eve?

Fuck. I think I was.

Eve: Yes.