Page 53 of Caught from Behind

He is, after all, the one who got into the salon early this morning and swept up the evidence of my hairtastrophe then deleted the footage of Riggs’s X-rated kiss—and the subsequent moments that led to it—from the security cameras positioned in the corners of the space.

Though, I do have a copy of it saved that he texted me.

It’s as hot as I remember and—I mentally wince—it clearly shows off my poor clippering skills.

Luckily, I don’t have to make up any more lies because then Riggs is there, a tray in his capable hands. He plunks down a beer in front of Knox and Lake, a mule in front of Kit and Nova and…me.

Stilling, I look up at him, eyes going wide.

Then wider when he tugs my chair back, lifts me from the pleather-covered cushion, sits and plunks me into his lap.

It happens in a manner of just a few seconds, but just like that, I’m surrounded by warm, hot Riggs.

His hand settles on my hip and I blink.

At him.

At Lake, who’s smirking like the handsome, smug bastard he is.

At Knox, who’s completely unfazed that his sister was just manhandled by his teammate and is currently occupying said teammate’s lap. In fact, he just lifts his beer at Riggs in a salute that has me narrowing my eyes before he refocuses on the women nearby.

So, I return to blinking at Riggs.

Who’s as quiet as usual in this public arena—and I haven’t missed that he’s positively chatty when he’s alone with me, especially when he’s discussing all of the body parts of mine that he likes and how he’s planning on using them and—well, there’s a lot of mention of slick heat and pretty pink and?—

“Behave,” he mutters, leaning in and nipping at the hinge of my jaw.

I realize that I’ve been rocking slightly on his lap, and that he’s now hard beneath me.

Okay, so this sitting-on-his-lap stuff might have even better side effects than previously thought—and being surrounded in warm, strong Riggs, while his scent fills my nose and his voice rumbles against my back is pretty damned good.

But feeling the rigid length of his erection beneath my ass is…well, that’s definitely a bonus.

A big bonus.

Heh.

“I’m just saying,” I murmur, rocking back and not missing that his hand tightens on my hip, that a soft growl reverberates through his chest and into my back.

“You’re not saying anything, chérie,” he says when I don’t go on, clamping that hand tighter, drawing me more firmly against him.

“Maybe not with words.” I rock slightly, feel his cock twitch.

Okay, so actually this lap-sitting thing is pretty fucking great.

“And you’re not using your words either,” I go on, twisting so I can lift my lips to his ear, “especially with your caveman antics.”

He leans in even closer, his voice damp puffs of air on my skin. “I think I made it clear that I intend to claim what’s mine.”

I shiver, heart rolling over in my chest.

If I was holding a pair of scissors…well, hair would have to watch out.

“Riggs,” I whisper.

“I’ve got you,” he says. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

I still.

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