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“Help with what?” I whisper.
Even though he’s not Emery, the vibe between us is still electric, tangible.
“Help you come down,” he says, moving closer to me under the covers as Tigger decides he’s had enough and jumps down to the floor, meowing his annoyances.
Neither one of us smiles or even laughs. We’re too caught up in whatever the fuck is happening. How I’d gone from my boss dropping off my dinner, to a stalker over my bed, to my detective neighbor in my bed, slinking closer to me with a sultry look in his eyes, is beyond me.
I’m probably dreaming and at any moment I’m going to wake up, filled with shame.
His hand rises from the bed, lifting my chin, tugging my gaze toward his. “Would you like that, tag-a-long?” he asks.
I lick my lips, swallowing.
“I…” I grapple with how to form my question without sounding like the inexperienced woman I am. “How would you do that?”
“Well, I’d use this hand,” he starts, letting his hand slip under the covers and over my belly, caressing me through my night shirt. “To make you feel good. Once you come down, your body will relax. I promise.”
“I don’t know if we should…”
“Let me make you feel good. God, I’ve wanted to touch you since the day I watched you move into this place.”
The news settles and startles me. “You have?”
He nods. “I watched you carry your boxes in until I was late for a shift. I would’ve helped, and I even argued with myself over the matter as I watched you, but I didn’t know how to approach you.”
“What? That’s silly! Why?” I snort.
“Carina, come on.” He scoffs.
“Come on, what?”
“Look at you. You’re fucking gorgeous, but your face tells people to keep their distance. Every now and again, though, when you’re unguarded, when you don’t know you’re being observed, a softness shines through. A calm beauty.” He reaches up and moves a strand of hair behind my ear that had escaped my messy bun.
Shivers race through my body, nipples perking up from the slightest touch that isn’t mine.
“Ryker,” I whimper.
“Mmm?” He moves in slowly, tentatively, knowing I’d shot him down only days ago.
“Make me feel good,” I whisper, his lips close, but far enough away to make me crazy.
When he lets them drop to mine, I push everything into the back of my mind, locking it away in a thorough examination another time. For now, I want to feel, and I know with Ryker, I’m in control, so I can let the moment happen comfortably.
“You tell me to stop, and I’ll stop, Carina,” he tells me.
“I…” I’d never told him about my past.
“In this field of work, reading people is what I have to be good at.”
The idea of him knowing something so intimate should stop me in my tracks, make me feel awkward, nervous. But it doesn’t. That he’d read me as a victim, still liked me, and moved with hesitation, and, at a pace best for me, warms me.
I let my lips find his. “Make me feel,” I tell him. Leaving the ‘good’ off, needing to feel anything other than fear tonight.
“Gladly.”
As his tongue slips into my mouth, teasing me slowly, his fingers trace the outer confines of my silk panties under my sleep shirt. I’d opted for a long jersey I’d found at Goodwill, for a sports team I don’t even know the name of.
His touch, even over fabric, causes me to moan. As the moments pass, he increases the pressure, never slipping under my panties once. Not even coming close.
