Tanika rolled her eyes. “I’m sure. That’s why you looked for a good five minutes while we were waiting for our drinks.”
“Want to grab lunch while these two talk about boobs?”
Justice’s raspy words had things inside of me perking up to attention.
Like my vagina and my nipples.
Using the guise of reaching for my phone, I covered my breasts—and my obstinate nipples—and stood.
“Oh yeah,” I said. “I have an hour. Is that enough?”
Tanika rolled her chair to the side. “Take the time you need. As long as you can cover me and Yao when we go to lunch, you’re golden.”
I saluted her, causing her to smile.
“Yes, ma’am,” I teased.
I reached for my cross-front purse and lifted it up over my head, settling it in place.
What I wasn’t aware of doing was making my breasts split apart and push out at the seams of my bra, making them appear bigger.
We made it to his personal motorcycle before he said, “Hooker boots? Really?”
I covered my mouth with my hand and burst out laughing.
He narrowed his eyes at me, but ultimately shook his head and mounted his bike.
I mounted behind him, but since he was still wearing his duty belt, I couldn’t get as close as I wanted.
Also, his baton—and not the one that I’d love to have touching me—was digging into my thigh in a really uncomfortable way.
He passed me back the helmet, then slipped his police issued one on over his own head.
By the time I had his buckled around my chin, he’d started the bike and had already begun rolling slowly out of the parking lot.
By the time that I had my hands holding on to his belt, he’d already begun accelerating.
I didn’t bother asking where we were going to eat. Anywhere was good.
What I hadn’t expected was for him to take me to a food truck.
But the amount of happiness I felt for that moment I would always remember.
***
Justice
The food truck had been a random choice as I’d pulled out of the parking lot.
I’d been trying to distract myself with how much I hated my utility belt seeing as it kept her from plastering all the way up against me when I saw the sign for the food truck fair that was going on in downtown Kilgore today.
On a whim, I decided to take her to them.
It was fast and my boss had suggested that we eat there to make our presence known when we were at our morning meeting before our shift started.
Thinking that it would be perfectly fine since there were a lot of people there and that she’d likely like it just as much because she liked weird and new things, I decided what the hell?
Apparently, based solely on the look of wonder on her face, it was a good choice.
“I. Love. Food. Trucks,” she declared breathily.
My lips twitched.
Instead of answering, though, I slipped my aviator sunglasses off and then removed my helmet.
If I tried to remove my helmet first, it always meant that my glasses would be on the ground by the time I got the helmet off. Since the stupid helmet was just as fuckin’ tight as the pants and the uniform top.
Speaking of uniform top, I fuckin’ loved that Royal had noticed. I mean, sure, I’d have loved more that she noticed me in something other than the most humiliating outfit that there ever could be, but I’d take what I could get.
There were some days that I thought she was into me.
Then there were others, like when she woke up today with my cock digging into her hip, that she acted completely unaffected by it all.
Meanwhile, I was having trouble sleeping, and when I did finally fall asleep it was to wake up on top of her, curled around her like a second skin, and my cock so hard that I feared it would forever stay that way.
I moved so that Royal was shielding my lower body, knowing that with these pants, they left nothing to the imagination.
Hell, I’d gone from wearing regular boxer briefs to a silky less tight boxer brief because the lines were so goddamn bad.
When had I started caring about panty lines?
Jesus Christ, I sounded like a girl.
“I want to try that one,” Royal said, drawing my attention.
My eyes went down to her face, and I was struck anew at how beautiful she was.
Her hair was up in a sleek ponytail today, the kind where there’s a bump on the top that poofs up. The sun was catching the shade of her hair and turning it a hundred different shades of red.
Her eyes looked lighter in the sun, too. Not so much a gray as an almost misty blue.
I’d never seen anybody’s eyes shift from gray to blue as much as hers did. I wouldn’t call them hazel, either. It just depended on what light she was standing in at the time.