She was wearing her regulation black skinny jeans tucked into knee-high boots. Where the fuck were her Docs? Dash dragged his gaze off her boots and that ass with difficulty then threw back the rest of his drink. He did not need Little Miss Nudie Pic in his apartment tonight. His concentration had been shot all day because of that little stunt she’d pulled. And it didn’t matter that he’d deleted it straight away — well, within the hour anyway — because it was in his head now. Occupying grey matter. Taking up space. Space that should be reserved for figuring out where the hell Isabella Richardson was. As if it wasn’t bad enough having fornicating fish to distract him, now he had Joy’s breasts to contend with as well. The only thing she could have done worse was taken a picture of her ass. She was definitely not — no way, no how — coming home with him. The only way she could help him involved her showing him some more of what she had on under her clothes and he was just horny enough to tonight to push his luck.
