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Strong fingers gripped her wrist, and then she was being hauled back toward the curb, his hand already in the air for a cab. “Hey,” she exclaimed. “I want ice cream!”
Sam ignored her. “Later. If you’re good.”
“At what?”
He gave her a look.
“Oh,” she said, giving a satisfied cat smile. “That. Don’t worry. I will be.”
Sam groaned as a cab pulled to a stop. “You really will be the death of me.”
“Well,” she said, lowering herself into the cab. “At least you’ll die happy.”
* * *
Riley had done a lot of thinking about time between the sheets in her time at Stiletto. But there was one area she hadn’t covered. Hadn’t even considered it, actually.
Cuddling.
It was phenomenal.
She’d never imagined that the slight rasp of a man’s chest hair against your back, the weight of his arm around your waist, his breath warm against your neck, could feel better than Christmas morning.
“I’ve been thinking—” Sam said, shifting and rolling onto his back.
“Aha! I thought I smelled smoke!” Riley rolled onto her side so she could see his face.
He smiled. “I’ve been thinking about your most recent performance.”
“And?”
“A minus.”
Riley sat up at that. “A minus? That was an A-plus performance and you know it.”
He shook his head, his eyes playful. “It was over much too quickly.”
She pinched his arm. “That’s only more proof that I was good at it.”
“I suppose we’ll have to try again to settle this,” Sam said with a sigh.
Riley flopped back against the pillows. “I should sleep. I have a staff meeting early tomorrow morning, and it’s my turn to fetch coffee for the girls. And Grace has been on this soy, extra-hot, half-decaf thing that takes, like, eight extra minutes at Starbucks.”
He tucked an arm around her, pulling her closer until she snuggled against his shoulder. “What are you doing tomorrow after work?”
“You’re not suggesting we hang out two days in row?” she asked, keeping her voice teasing because it was better than revealing the burst of glee that went through her at his words.
“Just for the sex,” he said, putting his lips to her forehead. She felt his smile.
“Well, I do need to make up for lost time …”
She pulled back slightly when he didn’t respond, noting the pensive expression on his face. “You doing that thinking thing again?”
To her surprise, he didn’t smile this time. “Got any regrets?”
“Um, what?” she asked, trying to keep up.
“You’ve waited a long time to get your jollies—just making sure it wasn’t a disappointment.”
