“What about Luke?”

“What the fuck about him? He’s in the car, where his ass needs to stay until I’m done.”

“But . . .”

But? Why am I protesting this? SHUP UP, MIA!

“Damn it, Mia,” Ben growls. “If I don’t get inside you, my balls are going to fall off. I’m dying here.”

Grinning, threading my fingers through his short hair and tilting my head up to kiss his jaw, I tighten the muscles in my legs and draw him closer.

“What are you waiting for then? Get that monster out.”

His entire body shakes, a shudder rolling through him. “God, I fucking love you.”

I smile wider, pressing my lips against his mouth and sucking at his lip.

Fumbling between us while supporting my weight, Ben frees his cock, leaving his pants up, his shirt on, everything in place except his belt, the button on his slacks, and the zipper.

Like my fantasy, I think, squirming and clawing at him, begging for it, my voice quiet and urgent.

He cups my pussy and slips two fingers inside.

“Ben,” I whimper as he stretches me. “Please . . . please, I need it.”

“You need what?”

“Your cock.”

He grins that beautiful, heart-stopping grin, the one that altered the course of my life that night in the bar three years ago. The only one he ever gives me.

“Yeah, you do,” he growls, slipping his fingers out of me and holding the base of his cock, leaning forward and pushing the tip inside. “You fucking need it. Need my cock fucking this sweet pussy, don’t you, Angel?”

I close my eyes, feeling him, feeling nothing but him.

“Yes,” I whisper.

He slides in so slowly, barely moving.

A little more . . . my legs shake. A little more . . .

“Hey! That guy’s stealing stuff! Hey, stop him!”

My eyes snap open.

Ben freezes, barely inside of me, every muscle in his body tensing while his hot breath bathes my face, bursting across my skin in sharp pants.

“Hey!” Someone else yells. “Hey, wasn’t there a cop in here? I saw him! Where did he go? Hey, help! This guy is stealing stuff! Help!”

“Fuck!” Ben yells, his voice echoing off the walls as he puts me on my feet and tucks his erection away.

Growling, his entire body radiating an anger unlike anything I’ve ever seen before, the veins in his forehead threatening to burst and his teeth clenched so tight he’s hissing his breaths now, he grabs my face and kisses me hard before wrenching the door open and storming out of the dressing area.

“Mother fuck!”

Grabbing my shirt, I cover myself with it and follow behind, staying shielded by the wall and looking out into the store.

“Richardson! You piece of shit! Come here!” Ben rounds on a big bald guy hunched over a table and tucking handfuls of women’s panties into the neck of his shirt.

Gross.

“You are fucking dead!”

I stare, wide-eyed as Ben pulls the guy up, nearly lifting him off the ground before he slams him against the wall and cuffs him.

I’ve never witnessed Ben arresting anyone before, or really doing any type of police work.

Sweet mercy.

This is foreplay right here. The best kind of foreplay.

The authority in his voice, the way he’s showing his power over this creep, cuffing him with one hand while keeping him pinned to the wall.

I might have to start doing ride-alongs.

“The fuck, Kelly?” The guy yells, struggling against Ben’s hold and craning his neck to see behind him. “What the fuck are you doing in a women’s lingerie store?”

Ben leans in closer. “What the fuck are you doing stealing panties, you sick fuck?”

Grinning, the guy limply shrugs. “You found my fetish. No shame in my game.”

“Ew. Get him out of here.”

“Yeah, that’s sick. The cop is crazy hot though. I mean . . . damn.”

“Seriously. I might steal something while he’s in here.”

I smile at the small group of women standing by the registers. I’m used to the general public gawking at Ben.

I gawk too. Allll the time.

Ben yanks the guy back, pulling him off the wall and moving toward the entrance. “Didn’t you see the squad car outside? Are you that fucking stupid you’ll try and rob a place with a cop parked in front of it?”

“Figured you were in the donut shop on the corner.”

My mouth falls open.

So stereotypical.

“Yeah? Well, fuck you. I only go there on Fridays.”

Shaking my head, I press my fingers to my lips and smile against them.

Ben gets to the door, looking back at me over his shoulder. “Buy them both,” he yells, that dimpled grin on his face, and I know he means the outfit I’m wearing and the glimpse of the one he got in the text.

The small group of women all jerk their heads in my direction, gaping at me.

I look from them proudly back to Ben, waving and smiling big, watching as he hauls the creepy panty-thief out of the store. My eyes lowering and lingering on his firm ass.

And I gawk. I mean . . . damn.

Ben

“WHAT THE HELL? NO BACHELOR party? How can you not have a bachelor party? It’s tradition, man.”

I swallow my mouthful of beer as CJ returns to the table, carrying a long neck for himself and handing one off to Luke. After taking a swig, CJ spins the vacant chair next to me around and sits in it, leaning his elbows on the high back and staring expectantly across the table.