As Panda sauntered toward her, he took in her outfit, from trashy top to platform flip-flops. He cocked his head toward the garage. “Let’s go.”

“Go?” She casually unclipped her nose ring and slipped it in her pocket.

“You know the routine.”

“That doesn’t mean I have to go along with it.”

“I have a job to do.”

She tilted her head and tugged on one of her dreads. “Screw your job.”

“Big mistake.” He caught her arm and forcibly steered her through the shadows at the side of the house toward the garage. When they reached the warped side door, he kicked it open. “Inside.”

“I don’t want to go inside. I want—”

“I don’t care what you want.” He slammed the door behind them.

Murky rays of afternoon light struggled to ooze through a cobweb-draped window. The cluttered garage held old furniture, boxes, broken beach chairs, and a leaky canoe. The air smelled of dust and motor oil, while Panda smelled of blueberries and heat. He turned her and, settling his hand between her shoulders, pressed her to the wall. “Spread those legs.”

“You’re scaring me.”

“Good.”

“I have no contraband on me. I swear.”

He gave her his nastiest, most intimidating snarl. “Then you don’t have anything to worry about.”

“I— I guess not.” She set her palms against the rough boards but kept her legs together.

He kicked them apart. “Don’t play ignorant. You know the drill.” His breath ruffled the hair brushing her ears, and his voice was a soft rasp. “I don’t like it any better than you.”

Not much, you don’t.

Her eyes drifted shut as he slid his hands along her sides, from her armpits to her thighs. “I told you,” she said. “I’m clean.”

“Why don’t I believe you?” He reached around her, his hands stopping just under her collarbone. And then he lowered his palms and cupped her breasts.

She looked at him over her shoulder. “Don’t say what you said last time.”

“What was that?” He nuzzled her ear.

“You said, ‘There’s nothing here.’”

He smiled, slipped his thumbs inside her bra cups, and found her nipples. “I was so wrong.”

By the time he stopped tormenting her breasts and moved to new territory, her knees were weak and her skin hot. He made a play of running his hands over her hips and thighs before he found his prime target. “I think I feel something.”

He wasn’t the only one. “This is illegal,” she said, wiggling her hips.

“Resisting arrest.” His hands tugged at the zipper on her shorts. “Now I’ll have to do a body cavity search.”

“Oh, no. Not that.” She couldn’t have sounded less convincing.

“You brought it on yourself.” He kneed her legs together and tugged off her tight shorts along with her panties.

“I try to be a good person, but it’s hard.”