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He froze and stared at the front door like a deer in the headlights.
Knock knock!
“Lassie! It’s me. Open up.”
Shaking his head to clear the cotton from his brain, he made purposeful strides toward the door and heaved it open.
She was stunning.
But of course, she was.
Rayma couldn’t look anything but incredible.
She was holding up her toothbrush with a big smile, her golden-brown eyes glittering with excitement. And in the other hand was a big pineapple.
He let his gaze drift down her appreciatively. She was wearing a long black trench coat and the knee-high black boots she’d worn when he took her to Ellapora.
Something was up, she had that look about her. Her lips were half-hitched in a coy smile and those sparkling eyes not only held excitement but mischief, too.
He stepped out of the way and held the door open for her, but she didn’t come inside, instead, she opened up her trench coat to reveal a lacy black corset, those boots, garters, and a black thong. She also had her belly button pierced. Fuck yes.
Her tits looked amazing all pushed up and did he see the hint of a tattoo peeking out on her hipbone between the waistband of her thong and the bottom of the corset?
He'd have to investigate that further—with his tongue.
She bit her lip and lifted an eyebrow.
All the blood left his head and pooled between his legs.
He was speechless.
“It’s uh … kinda cold out here, Lassie, you gonna let me in or what?”
He’d had plans for tonight. Meticulously thought-out plans.
First dinner, then wine on the sofa, followed by him laying her out on his bed and exploring every inch of her body with his mouth while she wriggled and squirmed. He wanted her so worked up that she was begging for his cock. So desperate, so deprived that she didn’t care where he put it so long as he filled her up in some way.
But now, here she was, turning the tables and making him want to drop to his fucking knees and kiss her damn boots for the opportunity to fuck her.
Finally, his limbs seemed to reroute enough of the blood and he surged forward, grabbed the back of her neck roughly, and crashed his mouth to hers, tugging her into the house and shutting the door. He was pretty sure she left her coat on the other side, and also dropped the pineapple out there, too, but whatever. He was on the bottom floor of the walk-up apartment and in a pretty expensive part of town, nobody was going to steal her coat.
Spinning them around he backed her up through his house toward his bedroom.
“Whoa, you took me seriously,” she said, breaking the kiss and glancing into his kitchen to where he had four pineapples sitting in his fruit bowl.
“Is the pineapple thing not true?”
She beamed at him. “No, it’s true. I just like how well you listen.”
“I’ve eaten an entire pineapple today and a liter of pineapple juice.”
Her tongue slid across her bottom lip. “I can’t wait to taste it.”
Fuck, him. This woman was perfect.
Then she tightened her grip on him and started kissing him fervently again.
The cop in him had him flicking his gaze to the stove where sure enough, he’d remembered to turn off the element that the sauce was on. Nothing would burn—though his brain was definitely threatening to short-circuit if he didn’t get inside Rayma post-haste.
