Chapter 2A flutter of nerves stirred in Andrew’s stomach. He still couldn’t believe he’d allowed Ford to touch him earlier, let alone such intimate skin on skin contact in a crowded room of his former peers—who were also police. But the memory of Ford’s hand on him had occupied his thoughts far more than stealing back business.
He should put an end to this, tell Ford off, tell him it was never happening again, and leave. But even just the thought of Ford’s touch, in public like that while still in secret, shot a spike of excitement through him, and he shuddered under his familiar stare.
Ford looked so good in actual clothes instead of in a prison jumpsuit or stolen uniform—sleek, simple attire in all black that made his blond hair stand out starkly in contrast. Like the tattoos Andrew kn
