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I nod.
“That’s good. I want that pussy covered when there’s a chance another man might see it.”
My mouth drops open at his possessiveness.
“Bossy much?” I arch my eyebrow.
He grunts and pushes off the door and settles himself on my sofa.
With a quick curl of his finger, he beckons me.
I follow because I want what he’s offering.
He pushes the coffee table back a few inches, allowing me room to stand in front of him. He hooks a big hand around my waist and pulls me between his spread knees.
This is my apartment, and he’s the one who’s settled and content.
He holds out his hand, palm up. The corner of his mouth turns up as he waits.
I reach beneath my skirt, shimmy my panties down my legs, and give them to him.
“They’re damp. You all wet for me, sweetheart?”
Warmth spreads across my cheeks. Of course he points out the wetness. It’s not a poke at me, but blatant proof of how virile I find him. My body craves him.
“Miles,” I whisper.
“What do you need?”
“Do I… Is this one-sided?” I ask.
His eyes widen and he looks at me as if I asked if he was the Easter bunny.
He shakes his head as he undoes his belt and works open his jeans so his dick springs free. Brazenly, he strokes the swollen flesh from root to tip. It’s big, like him. Thick and long. I question my ability to take him.
“I’ll fit,” he says, as if reading my thoughts. “You were made for me.”
As he continues to stroke himself, he says, “Lift the skirt. Show me what’s mine.”
I lick my lips with anticipation, loving that he’s taking control. That all I have to do is feel and get lost in the way he’s looking at me. At the way he so blatantly wants me, too.
“This is crazy.” I reach for the hem of my skirt.
“Nothing wrong with crazy.” His gaze remains affixed to my fingers and the expanse of thigh that is slowly being revealed.
“I’m a detective investigating you,” I remind him.
We didn’t talk about my work at all through dinner. Only a little on the drive.
“You know I’m innocent, otherwise you wouldn’t be showing me—fuck, baby—that pretty little pussy.”
My skirt is crumpled in my grip and he can see all of me from the waist down. Bare for him.
His blue eyes meet mine as his hand stills around his dick.
“You want to stop? You want me to leave so you can get the proof you need that backs my words and your instinct? You want to delay what’s going to happen between us just because your partner might get a little pissy?”
I shake my head.
