What the hell?

For a second, my body is torn between pleasure and shock. Then reality wins.

Drew jerks upright, swearing. He hits his head on the back of the driver’s seat and swears louder. I fumble with my dress. The skirt, down as far as I can get it. The top, yanked up over my breasts. Where the hell are my panties? Fuck, fuck, fuck.

The worse of it is, my body is still tight and aching. My breath is still trembling. The twist of need is still spiraling through my body.

Just a couple more minutes, and I’d have been straight to heaven. A few seconds, even. What the hell kind of awful timing is this?

The tap at the window comes again. I manage to snag a finger around my panties, which are dangling from one ankle, and squirm back into them. Drew squeezes past me to the window, but he pauses to check I’m covered.

“I don’t care who it is out there,” he murmurs in a low, husky voice. “We’re not done yet.”

And now I’m really aching.

There’s another tap, impatient. “OK, OK,” Drew says. He opens the car door, and I twist around to see a man standing there in a police uniform, his face hidden by the bright beam of the flashlight.

My heart sinks.

Well, of course. Who else would it be? Every kid I knew in high school managed to make out up here without getting caught, but I try it as a grown adult and I’m busted in two seconds flat.

“Hello, officer,” Drew says pleasantly. “What can I help you with?” He’s standing between me and the cop, blocking the view of me, which is a good thing because right then I realize my bra strap has ended up over my dress sleeve instead of under. I hastily tuck it back as the cop leans over to peer past Drew.

“Sir,” the cop says. “Ma’am. Everything all right in here?” His voice has a thin, almost squeaky quality and up close, I can see he’s just a kid. Must be a rookie straight out of the academy.

I relax a little.

“All’s well,” Drew says, and I nod in agreement with the best smile I can manage. “But I appreciate you checking in.”

“Well, see now,” the cop says, “there are laws about what sorts of activities you can get up to in a public place. And this road is public. And from what I saw, you two were definitely out of bounds.”

My cheeks flare at the thought of what exactly he saw. Drew hangs his head a little shame-facedly.

“Absolutely,” he says. “We got caught up in the moment, and I definitely wasn’t thinking straight. I apologize. We’ll get out of your hair.”

“Can I see your license and registration, please?”

I hold my breath as Drew hands that over. Can he smooth-talk our way out of this? And maybe all the way back to his apartment where we can finish this little adventure properly?

The flashlight bobs back up. “Drew Delaney?” the cop says eagerly. “The Drew Delaney? From Category 5?”

Oh my God. Have we stumbled on a fan? I bite my lip to keep myself from laughing. Maybe we can get out of this unscathed.

“That’s the one,” Drew says with his charmingly crooked grin. “I know, I know—I really should know better by now.”

“I heard you’re producing these days. Is that true?”

“It is,” Drew says. “I’ve just set up shop in a place downtown. Being a contributing member of society and all.”

“You know what?” the cop says. “That’s actually—that’s great. Listen, I do some, like, beats, when I have the time. I’ve done some great freestyles. I’m always writing lyrics and rhymes down when they hit me. You’ve got to, right?”

“Of course.” Drew nods sagely, keeping a straight face.

“I’m ready take it to the next level,” he goes on. “You must have all kinds of connections. Do you think, if you liked my style, you could put a word in for me, like a referral . . . ?”

Drew looks pained.

“Well, I mean, that’s not the way it usually works in the biz—”

“Look, just give me a listen, all right?” The cop draws himself up straight, chin high. “You’ll see. I’ve got serious swag. And besides, you guys aren’t going anywhere right now, are you?”

Was that a threat?

I blink, but Drew doesn’t miss a beat. “Sure,” he says smoothly. “Show me what you’ve got.”

“All right. All right.” The cop sets his flashlight down on the trunk and shakes out his arms. You’d think he was prepping for an Olympic high dive, the way he’s breathing. He strikes a pose, arms bent and hands clenched, and then bobs to the beat as he spits out a stumbling line of lyrics. I’m bracing myself against a cringe before the first words pass over his lips.

“Dawg, you gotta know

I’m out on patrol

Getting jiggy with the bad girls

Chasing down those crooks

Crooks crooks

Cuz if anyone just looks

They can see I’m packin’

And I don’t mean no toy gun

So if you think I’m lackin’

Smarten up, yo!

Yo yo!”

Oh God, is he for real? I try my hardest not to laugh.

Think of something tragic, I tell myself. Dead kittens. Frozen store-bought cake. Almond flavoring. Drew’s shoulders have gone rigid, and I suspect it’s a good thing I can’t see his face. I think if we looked at each other right now there’d be nothing in the world that could stop us from bursting out in full-blown hysteria.

The cop isn’t done. Oh, no. His eyes widen with apparent passion as he launches into the chorus.

“So these are the things you’ve got to know about me

Line them up, baby, one two three

Don’t mess with the guy with the gun—he can get it

Don’t kick me when I’m down cuz I won’t forget it

And if you roll into town picking for a fight

You’d better turn around cuz I can go all night.”

A snort bursts out of me, and I throw myself into a coughing fit to cover it. Luckily the coughing also gives me an excuse for the tears of hilarity streaming out of my eyes. Oh, hell, this is the funniest and the saddest thing I’ve ever seen in my life.

I lost out on the best head ever for this?

By the time I’ve pulled myself together, Drew is giving the cop polite applause. The guy’s face is lit up so bright I almost feel bad for him.

Almost.

“Wow,” Drew says. “Just, wow.”

“You like it?” the cop beams.

“It sure is . . . something,” Drew manages diplomatically. “You know, that gives me a really good sense of what you’re working with. Why don’t you give me your contact info, and if something comes up that I think would be a good fit, I’ll pass it on. Just remember that the hard-hitting hip hop isn’t really my area of expertise.”

If that rap was hard-hitting then I’m a lethal assassin, but I think he’s got the right idea. The cop grins and jots down his number. He waves us to the front of the car. I do up my seatbelt and sink back into the smooth leather, watching him amble farther up the road, I guess to frighten some actual necking teens.

“Well,” Drew says. “That was . . . not how I planned this night ending.”

He glances toward me, and my lips twitch. Then we’re both laughing, so hard that after a few seconds I’m gasping for air. My eyes are streaming again.

“It was a bonding experience,” Drew says once we’ve both caught our breaths. “Enduring a horrible trial side by side.”

“Horrible is definitely the word for it.” I exhale. Talk about a way to kill the mood. Even if our rent-a-cop wasn’t on patrol, I don’t think I could get back near my climax if you paid me.

So much for seeing stars. Probably a good thing: after all, it’s technically our first date, and I don’t want him getting ideas about how easy I am.

I.e., very.

“Where to now?” Drew asks, and I should win an award for self-control, because I don’t tell him to ravish me now. I cross my knees demurely—like they weren’t just wrapped around his head—and smile. “Drop me back at my place?”

* * *

It isn’t until Drew pulls over outside my parents’ house and I see all the windows are dark that I realize how late it’s gotten.

“Dinner was . . . fun,” Drew says, giving me a wicked grin.

“And dessert sure was . . . interesting,” I agree.

He leans in, pulling me into a slow, hot kiss. His hand slides over my bare shoulders, his mouth soft on mine, and the best kind of shiver races through me.

The kiss stretches on, our lips parting against each other, angling deeper. Our breaths mingle as our tongues tangle. I shift over on my seat with the urge to feel more of him against me. His other hand slides over my bare knee, and suddenly I’m outright shaky with desire.

His fingers inch up my thigh—and the living room light blinks on, followed immediately by the porch light. I jerk back with a fresh flush of embarrassment.

“Guess my parents noticed I’m back,” I say. “Probably better to avoid putting on another show tonight.”

Drew chuckles. “We will have to pick this up later. Far, far away from any cops, next time.”

“And parents,” I agree.

“I’ll call you, then?”

It takes all my willpower to peel myself away from him, but the thought of Mom hovering by the window provides excellent motivation. I slink up to the front door, give him a little wave before he drives off.

Mom steps into the front hall the second I’ve closed the door behind me. She stifles a yawn, but her eyes are fully alert.

“Getting home awfully late for a children’s party, aren’t you?” she asks.

“Drew and I went out for dinner after,” I say. “You really didn’t have to wait up.”

“Oh, I was caught up in a book anyway.” She cocks her head. “So it was just dinner?”

“Mom.”

“I assume he at least took you somewhere nice. Don’t I get to hear about it?”

“It was very nice,” I say, although the truth is I don’t remember much about the food, only the delicious anticipation of what we might get up to afterward.

“That’s all you’re going to tell me?”

“Mom,” I say again. “I’m not in high school anymore. I’m twenty-nine! I get to have an adult life where I do adult things without an inquisition.”

“I’m just curious,” she says. Her eyebrow quirks up. “So there were adult things—”

I throw up my hands with a groan. “Good night, Mom.”

She follows me up the stairs. “I do like to know what’s going on in my daughters’ lives, no matter how old you are.”

“Well, I promise I’ll update you if anything momentous happens, okay?”

More momentous than great head, anyway.

She at least respects my autonomy enough not to follow me into the bedroom. I make sure the door is firmly closed behind me, then collapse onto the bed.

I wriggle out of my dress, and the brush of the fabric over my body brings back the memory of Drew’s hands. His mouth, moving over my skin. Mmmm . . . Heat washes over me. Lying back on the bed, I retrace his path with my own fingertips, down my neck, over my breasts and stomach, and on down to that sweet spot between my legs.

God, the man does know how to make a woman melt. I close my eyes, stroking myself as I remember the smolder in his gaze, and how his mouth drove me crazy, licking me just right.

Right there . . .

I breathe faster. My clit throbs with that growing need for release, and my body is tight again, climbing back to the edge. It’s not the same as him, nowhere close, but God, I need that release, the itch in my veins driving me on as I try not to moan out loud. My parents are down the hall, my little sister too, but somehow I can’t stop myself from stroking faster, teasing my clit and thinking of him . . . that mouth . . . those fingers . . . that tongue . . .

My eyes fly open, and there he is, staring down at me from the wall. Twenty years old, with that cocky smile. I must have stared up at it a hundred times. Hell, I must have touched myself thinking about him too. But now I know the real deal, and fuck, it’s so much hotter: memories driving me on, not just fantasies. My heart beats harder, my hand moves faster, and then—yes!—I’m coming, arching back against the mattress as the waves of release crash through me, and Drew keeps watching, safe from his place on the wall.

I flush, feeling like I just fucked a twenty-year old.

No, not weird at all.