sexy, too? Or maybe just responsible enough to show Joseph she wasn’t a selfish rich bitch looking for a boy toy.
Because she wasn’t.
Well, maybe she was looking for a boy toy.
Her mother made a contrite sound. “I didn’t mean to scare you, but it felt very important for a few minutes because I don’t want to disappoint Emma and Andrew. And I suppose I’m a bit bored. This is such a long trip. What are you doing?” Loretta asked. Tennyson could hear Air Supply singing in the background.
Should she say I’m doing Officer Rhett?
Probably not.
Her mother was devoutly Catholic and not approving of casual sex. Committed sex she had no problem with. In fact, Loretta was a big proponent of experimentation. She’d once sent Tennyson some really strange sex toys from an “intimate” party she’d attended with her friends. Tennyson hadn’t known whether to send a thank-you note or check on her father.
“Um, I’m cooking breakfast,” she said, gasping a little when Joseph’s lips grazed the back of her neck.
“Mm, you taste salty,” he whispered in her ear.
A little shiver ran down her spine as he slid his hands under her top, crossing over her stomach and bringing her back against his front.
“You don’t cook,” her mother said in her other ear.
“Um, well, I am boiling water,” she managed, closing her eyes as his fingers started delicious slow circles working up to her sports bra. His mouth was doing wonderful things to her neck.
“For what?” her mother asked, sounding genuinely intrigued.
“Uh, just some, uh, tea,” Tennyson said as Joseph slid his hands beneath her bra and palmed her breasts. She hadn’t been super into guys messing with her breasts since she’d had the boob job, but the way he plucked her nipples and made little noises against her neck was driving her crazy. She couldn’t think straight. She couldn’t even think curvy.
“You drink tea?” her mother asked. “I never knew you liked tea.”
Joseph ground his hips against her ass, and her knees went a lot weak. His soft laugh against her skin made her smile.
“I don’t. Mom, I’m just going to be straight with you. You don’t need a dress, and I have to go because there is a policeman here who has to interrogate me.”
“Body search in progress,” he growled into her ear as he spun her around. Tennyson grinned at him. The spark in his eyes made her happy. Very happy. Because she was almost certain that Officer Joseph Rhett was about to make her day. In a non–Clint Eastwood way.
“Oh my stars, are you in trouble?” her mother asked, her voice going all high and panicked.
“I hope so,” Tennyson said, laughter escaping her. “I hope he realizes what a bad girl I’ve been and maybe even uses his handcuffs on me.”
“Tennyson Marie O’Rourke, you better be joking with me,” her mother said.
Joseph was now working his way down her neck to her chest. His hands were busy, too, and she may have sighed as he did something that wasn’t a standard pat down.
“I am. Truly. I have to go, Mom.”
“Are you sure? You sound weird, like you’re all out of breath and . . . oh. Oh.” Her mother went silent.
Tennyson started laughing. “I’ll see you soon, Mom.”
“Dear Lord, Teeny. You’re going to be the death of me. Bye.” She hung up.
Tennyson tossed the phone onto the counter. “My mom is good. Let’s shower.”
Joseph lifted his head, picked her up, and set her legs around his waist. He briefly ground his hard parts into her soft ones, using the counter for leverage.
“Is that your nightstick, Officer?” she joked, biting his earlobe.
“You’re about to find out,” he said with a laugh, palming her ass as he walked toward the hallway that led to her bedroom. “Good thing I know where your bedroom is.”
Tennyson covered his mouth with hers, giving him the most passionate kiss she could manage while being bounced toward her bedroom. “I’m so thankful for raccoons right now. They’re, like, the best animal in the whole animal kingdom.”
When they reached the bathroom, he lowered her onto the double vanity and kissed her with a heat that made her toes curl against the smooth, white cabinets.
“Yeah, I’m now a huge fan of raccoons. About that shower,” he said, looking at her large walk-in shower. “We probably don’t want to get our clothes wet.”
An hour later, Tennyson rolled over and blinked at Joseph, who was lying on his back on her king-size bed, looking quite similar to the