A writer's workshop introduced me to the idea of creating sexual tension with push-pull. It was a new concept to me, and I wanted to see what I could do with it. This was just practice, written before I started D&S, but I'd like to think I put some of what I learned into D&S. Hell, why else would I have kept Dickie around so long? LOL!

Court's Confessions Challenge. Prompt: I have a confession to make.

Disclaimer: Not my characters, not making any money. Characters belong to Janet Evanovich.

WARNING: Smutty memories and wishful thinking, with a poofteenth of self-combustion and some dream smut in part 3.

oOo

Push-Pull

By Dee

1

I licked my lips, which were dry all of a sudden at the sight of Ranger's bare chest with its smooth mocha latte skin and well defined muscles. He stood before me, the tiny quirk adorning one side of his mouth telling me without any doubt that he was aware of the effect his shirtless state was having on me.

"What happened here?" came the voice of a uniformed state police officer, and Ranger turned his dark gaze away from me and took a couple of steps toward the cop, talking in a low voice.

I watched the defined array of muscles rippling in his back while I snuggled into the softness of his t-shirt, breathing in that unique Bulgari-and-Ranger scent, trying to inhale his essence into my soul.

I needed his strength.

It had all gone wrong in a millisecond. We were at a bar in Ewing Township, and I was in my distraction zone, slutty and loose in a revealing halter top and a miniscule skirt that barely covered my assets, teetering and strutting on my four-inch fuck-me sandals.

I shivered and pulled Ranger's shirt down over my legs to blanket me to the ankles, drawing my knees to my chest under the shirt and locking my tensed arms around them. Ranger slanted a corner-of-the-eye glance at me, his face showing no emotion as he continued his explanation to the policeman.

I'd thought I was in full control as I ushered Darrow, the skip, through the bar door, pulling him by the hand, knowing Ranger and Tank were out there waiting. But before he was even outside the asshole's free hand grabbed my halter, tearing it, yanking it off me with one swift jerk, and his other hand twisted my arm up behind me, forcing my back to arch, my head to hit the doorframe as his mouth dipped down toward my now bare chest.

I shivered again at the thought of Darrow's wet, liver-lips descending on my breasts. Thank God Ranger had been right there to knock him unconscious with a single blow to the face before the creep's protruding tongue could touch me.

Ranger had yanked off his shirt and helped me into it to cover my nakedness and then sat me down in his lap on the boards of the porch, his arms comforting me, his lips on my hair, his voice husky in my ear telling me he was proud of me, that I'd done a great job, that it was all okay now. Tank cuffed and hauled away Darrow while I sat there in a mindless haze until the police arrived and Ranger arose to deal with them.

I rested my forehead on my knees, allowing my mind to drift. Unfortunately it drifted straight to where I really didn't want to go right now. Morelli.

Joe was going to be furious when I came back braless, wearing Ranger's shirt. I didn't have a chance to tell him I had a job for RangeMan tonight, and he wasn't home from work yet when Ranger picked me up, so he had yet to see the sluttiness of my attire.

God, how stupid was I, not bringing something to change into? I wondered if I could convince Ranger to stop at Haywood before taking me back to Joe's. I was sure I had several complete uniforms, including black sports bras and embroidered cotton panties, in Ranger's closet. Better to arrive at Joe's in full RangeMan-logoed regalia than in Ranger's shirt and a teeny tiny skirt with no underwear.

Arrive home, I corrected myself. Not Joe's house. Our house. My home, too. I'd moved in last week and my apartment was re-rented already. I had to stay with Joe now. I had nowhere else to go. The decision to move in with Joe had seemed inevitable at the time, but the first tinge of regret tightened my belly.

"Ready, Babe?" Ranger's husky voice interrupted my frantic thoughts and I looked up to see his hand extended down to me, ready to pull me to my feet.

I scrambled up, trying to ignore that hand, the possessiveness of it, but I stumbled and he caught me against his sculpted chest, holding me close to steady me on those damn high heels. I brushed my cheek against his shoulder, reveling in the softness of his bare skin against my face. God, it felt so secure here in his arms. But…

"Thanks," I muttered, pushing away. No more poaching allowed. I'd made up my mind when I decided to move in with Joe. Things between Ranger and me were going to be kept on a professional level.

But the feeling of his hand splayed across the small of my back as we walked toward his Porsche Turbo sent chills up and down my spine, making my scalp tingle and my nipples harden. No matter how hard I tried to push him away, his pull was hard to resist.

He held open my door and I collapsed into the leather seat, pulling his t-shirt down again to cover my knees. "I've got it," I said, taking the seatbelt from his hand to fasten it myself.

"Are you okay?" He gave me a piercing look as he swung in beside me, his eyes raking down my body and back up again, pausing at my hard nipples poking at the soft fabric snugged against them by the shoulder strap.

"I'm fine," I said, crossing my arms over my chest. I leaned back and closed my eyes, trying to ignore him as he started the car and put it in gear.

After a few minutes of riding in silence, making a valiant attempt to resist Ranger's intense magnetism, I slitted my eyes open a fraction. The vision of his bare chest appearing and disappearing in the passing illumination of the streetlights sent my mind reeling back to our night together… His scent filling my nostrils as I buried my face against his neck… The salty taste of his sweat-slicked skin… The pliability of his nipples transforming to rigidity under my tongue… The hammering sound of his heart's wild pounding against my ear… The contours of his abs, quivering as my fingers traced their ridges and valleys… The sight of his erect cock waiting to stretch me and fill me, its enormous size both terrifying and arousing…

Stop it, I told myself. Think about Joe, waiting for you at his place, at home, with his lean hardness and powerful Italian libido. If I needed the comfort of passionate fucking to take my mind off the near miss tonight, Joe would be more than ready to oblige.

Ranger took his right hand off the wheel and flexed it, stretching his fingers wide, then making a fist. As he brought his fingers straight again I thought I caught a twinge of pain on his face.

I reached out and with care captured the hand in both of mine, bringing it over in front of me, peering down as the lights of passing cars allowed me brief flashing glimpses. "You hurt your hand," I said, my fingers caressing the calluses on his palm.

"It's fine, Babe. I'll just put some ice on it when I get home."

I ran my thumb over the back of his hand with caution, feeling the swelling along his knuckles. "I have a confession to make."

"What?"

I touched my lips to the backs of his fingers. "I'm glad you hurt Darrow."

A real smile flashed over his lips and brightened his eyes as I placed his sore hand back on the wheel and settled into my seat.

TBC