The pixie-like figure danced and splashed beneath the spurting water. Seth watched as she turned and twirled about beneath the wash of the erupting high-shooting plumes in front of the courthouse steps. What in hell did she think she was up to? Was this the same competent young woman he worked with everyday? It was hard to believe.
She stopped spinning long enough to look at him and grinned. Drops of water sparkled like stars all over her skin. Tipping her head back, she spread her arms wide as though in entreaty to the gods above.
"It's hot, Seth. So hot. And this feels so good. It's invigorating."
He snorted. Invigorating wasn't quite the word he'd use as he witnessed her uninhibited display. "Hell yes, it's hot. It's July, what do you expect?"
He was having a hard time maintaining his concentration. That cute little sun dress she wore was now plastered to her very curvaceous wet body revealing every sultry dip. It was that very body that had kept him in a perpetual state of painful arousal for longer than he cared to admit.
He could see the dusky peaks of her hard nipples straining against the fabric of the almost transparent white material and he licked his dry lips. Damn, he wanted to taste her, to suck all that cool moisture off her body, nice and slow.
He shook his head in disbelief. He was a peace officer dammit and she was a dispatcher. He didn't mess around with anyone in the Department--it could get too darn uncomfortable when the affair was over. It was MacDougal's Rule, a firm one he'd made for himself. He'd never been the least tempted to break it.
But, fuck, she was the prettiest damn dispatcher he'd ever seen. And that voice of hers could melt asphalt pavement during an antarctic freeze; even across the airwaves of the radio it had a way of drizzling all over you like warm caramel, all smooth, sleek, and tasty. It made him think of warm summer nights, hot skin, and rumpled silk sheets. And what it would feel like to nestle nice and close between those long golden limbs of hers.
They were gorgeous legs, curvy and firm, tanned by the sun, and they looked satin smooth. How would those sweet limbs feel wrapped around his hips? Damn, that vision caused a throbbing in his groin.
He didn't know too many of his fellow officers who didn't fantasize about Maxie Travis. He tried real hard to stay out of the conversations, afraid he'd punch somebody if they got too mouthy. Angry heat coursed through him every time they started talking about her that way. She was too fine a woman to be the subject of their crude humor.
That's what he told himself. And he almost had himself convinced. It couldn't possibly be because he wanted her for himself, and the thought of her with any one of those jerks set his teeth on edge.
Maxie had worked at the Department for about six months. He remembered well the first day she'd walked in. Hell, he remembered everything about her. Yet in all that time he'd managed to avoid getting near her beyond offering a polite greeting now and then. Or had she been avoiding him? He couldn't be sure, because as far as he knew, she hadn't dated anyone in the Department. At least not yet. Maybe she subscribed to MacDougal's Rule herself.