Page 62 of The Woman with the Handcuffs

“On the web that he made from his… butt-rope.”

“Stop laughing. He’s already plotting his escape.”

The damn thing just scooted a centimeter to the side.

I stuck my knife in my pocket and took the soap dish with me, scooting the slow-moving spider inside and closing it as Caitlin let out a slew of hisses, gasps, and little cries.

“Got him,” I said, waving the dish as I turned.

But she was right there.

So close that our chests brushed.

My thoughts scrambled.

My heart stuttered.

My blood rushed. Mostly south.

I could feel it when Caitlin gasped at the contact, her breasts pressing more firmly against me.

I promised myself I was going to move away, that I was going to be a better person than my hormones wanted me to be.

Then her gaze flicked up.

And I saw heavy lids and heated eyes.

I wasn’t aware of my brain telling any part of my body to move. But then there was my arm lifting, reaching out, tucking her hair behind her ear.

I would have let it stop there.

I thought.

But a little shiver moved through her body, and she was close enough for me to feel it. Then her breath gasped in from between her parted lips. And her gaze slid to my mouth.

Everything stalled, stilled, quieted.

My head tilted, lowered.

“Hey, yo!” a voice called, close. Too close.

Caitlin jumped away from me, her hands scrambling to cover up her mostly bare body.

Then there he was. The owner. With a flashlight and a bat.

“We don’t allow any hanky-panky in here,” he said as I stepped in front of Caitlin to block her from his view.

“We had a spider situation,” I told him, waving the soap dish. “Apparently, it was plotting murder and as big as my head,” I added with a little smile as the man’s gaze went to the dish.

His smile broke across his face then too.

“I’m the spider relocator in my family too,” he said. “So much fussing over a little thing. And God forbid I squish it. Want me to take it out of here?” he asked.

“If you don’t mind,” I said, offering it to him as I walked him back to the door.

“I’ll bring your dish right back.”

“Burn it,” Caitlin called, making him laugh.