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His eyes narrowed, the corner of his mouth cocking up. “I like it too.”

“Wanna help me make cookies?” she asked, swiping some cookie dough from the bowl and offering it to him on the tip of her finger.

He shook his head, sucking the dough off her finger and biting the tip. “I need to warm up.”

She nodded, unzipping his coat and tugging it off. She draped it over the back of the chair before unwinding the black scarf from around his neck. She laid it atop the coat and pulled a chair out. “Sit.”

He did, smiling as she turned and straddled his leg to pull his boot off. He had the most inviting view of her ass, hugged in tight jeans. When the second boot joined the first, he grabbed her around the waist and pulled her back onto his lap. His hands slid under the long black sweater she wore, the thrill of her flesh contracting beneath his fingers making him ache instantly.

His hands slid up, pausing when he encountered only smooth flesh. “You forgot your bra, Miss Buchanan.”

“No, I didn’t, Officer Ryan.” She arched into his hands.

He groaned, burying his nose at the base of her neck. “You’re soft as silk.”

She shivered, the rapid thrum of her heart evident beneath his palm.

“You can’t go out in public like this,” he groaned as his fingers worked her nipples into hard peaks.

“I’m going out?” she asked, breathless.

“Can’t miss the lights,” he said, resting his forehead between her shoulder blades. He could wait. He didn’t give a damn about the lights. But he wanted her to get out, to remember happier times and how good Greyson could be. “It’s a tradition. I wanted to drive you.”

She looked back over her shoulder. “I thought we were about sex. And sneaking around.”

“Okay, forget the lights,” he said, his hands cradling her breast more firmly. Not that he was going to let the subject drop altogether. Just for the next hour or so.

“Now I’ll feel guilty. You should go.” But she stood, faced him and straddled his lap. Her arms wrapped around his neck as she kissed him. He let her lead, let her lips part his and her tongue stroke the inside of his lip. He shivered, his arms winding around her waist and anchoring her in place.

“You want me to go?” he rasped.

Her green eyes sparkled as she stared at him. She nodded, then shook her head. “First, we need to warm you up,” she purred, leaning forward to nip his earlobe.

He shivered as she sucked his earlobe into her mouth. She slipped from his hold and stood, pulling her shirt up and over her head and tossing it at him.

He caught it, soaking up the vision before him. “You’re a beautiful woman.”

“You don’t have to say that,” she said, an almost embarrassed tone to her voice.

He stood then, looking down at her. “It’s the truth, Tatum. You’re beautiful.”

She blushed, tearing her gaze from his as she took his hand and tugged him toward the bedroom. The creamy line of her back demanded he touch her. They made it to the hall before he pressed her against the wall, running the tip of his nose along the base of her neck and the ridge of her shoulder blade. His hands cupped her breast as he trailed wet, hot kisses down her back. She sagged, leaning into the wall as he gripped her hips and ground against her. She arched into him, robbing his lungs of air.

“Dammit,” he bit out, pulling her back against his chest and steering her into the bedroom.

She spun around, her parted lips latching on to his mouth. When his tongue slipped between her lips, he ground his hips against hers and bore her back onto the mattress.

“Spencer,” she breathed.

His fingers were quick and deliberate, sending her clothing to the corners of her room. But the sight of her breasts quaking, her nipples tight peaks and her skin flushed shook him to the core. His hands were shaking as he fumbled with his clothing. By the time he’d climbed between her legs, he had no control left.

He pinned her hands over her head and pressed the tip of his rock-hard—

“Tatum?” a voice called out. A familiar male voice.

They froze.

“Left my phone.”

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