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I thought I had her figured out, my mental picture clearer than before. Maybe not one hundred percent accurate, but I’ve worked wonders on less.
So many years on the force makes a man good at reading people, and I’ve honed my skill. Then Aria turns my mental picture of her on its head with her floral aesthetic and herbal tea. The heels and the skirt gave me one impression, and the woman in her pajamas with the poppy curtains gave me another.
My apartment is ridiculously quiet when I finally make it back, and for a moment, I stop in my tracks, wondering at the sense of life lingering within the four walls. As though the intrusion earlier had somehow imbued what’s been lost—
Which is fucking ridiculous, and I’m losing it. Clearly.
The door is barely closed behind me when a fist falls heavy against the wood, pounding out an incessant rhythm until I turn and wrench it open.
To see a dripping-wet Aria on the other side. I stare her up and down, her expression blank, rainwater trailing along the planes of her face. Her eyes are larger than I’ve ever seen them. I let my gaze travel over her longer than necessary.
“What are you doing here?” I ask.
“I’m sorry, it’s late. I had to make sure I wasn’t being tailed. It took me a little longer to get here because of it.”
“Being tailed? I literally just left your place.” My voice is firm to hide the confusion, my jaw clenched in surprise.
“You took the long route. I took the shorter way. And yet we’re here at the same time.” She shivers. “Except I’m not here to talk to you, Tough Guy.”
I shove aside every thought of her beauty because there is no way in hell she’s here for any good reason. Has Aria lost her mind? I already have an inkling there, but say nothing. “Then what do you want?”
Things aren’t adding up. Then my insides still. The moment is loaded and poignant, poised on a knife edge, until she erupts into motion and flings her arms around my neck. Her lips meet mine, and my heart thumps right up into my throat at the kiss. A devastating press of her mouth to mine, quick as a lightning bug in the summer dark before she rears back.
I’m too shocked to do anything, not even kiss her in return. My eyes are open and locked onto her. “What are you doing?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” She sounds indignant.
I loop my arm around her waist, drawing her into the apartment and kicking the door closed with my foot. I hold her close as I ask, “I mean, yes, but why?”
“You’re seriously complaining.” Now, she’s not just indignant but agitated; her hands fly up. “Wow. If your massive boner wasn’t against my belly button, then I’d have questions, Devan. Some very deep and vulnerable questions.”
She’s right. The second her scent, mingled with the freshness of the rainstorm, wound through my system, I was hooked.
A little bit of mischief lights her eyes, and I chuckle, refusing to let go of her. “I’m not having sex with you tonight.”
Once the words are out of my mouth, I tense. Anxious for her response.
Her smile melts the chunk of ice in my chest, and she reaches between us to brush her hand against my dick. “Again, your massive boner begs to differ.”
“My body’s reaction to you is natural because you’re absolutely gorgeous, and you’ve got the hands of an angel if an angel gave handjobs.” I continue to back up until we’re in the middle of the living room, just the two of us and the damage and trash left behind by the superheroes I’d kicked out. “And turning you down is going to probably be the biggest regret of my life, but no.”
“No?” Aria questions.
“No. This isn’t right. You’re a suspect, and I’m—”
“Trying to retain a shred of your former dignity?” she supplies.
I chuckle, the sound pained and dry. “Something like that.” My fingers twitch against her, grasping the fabric of her shirt.
“Then it’s too bad I’m not leaving here until you touch me.” She quirks her head to the side.
“I didn’t tell you to get out.” My voice cracks. I clear my throat, my dick begging me to reconsider. There’s a line. However much I want to cross it, it’s a terrible idea. But…there are ways to skirt the line. Apparently, I’m too overwhelmed to have a functioning handle on things in my life. Not my house, my job, or my mental health.
Right now, Aria is in my arms, and I want to do all the things I’ve imagined with her.
Instead, what comes out of me is a proposition. “I said I wasn’t going to fuck you. There are plenty of other things I’m going to do to you before you leave.”
“Oh.” Her smile deepens. “My interest is piqued.”
