Page 8 of Curvy Girl for the Cop

My mouth goes dry. I swallow hard and nod, not trusting myself to speak. As I hurry to flip the sign to "Closed" and lock the front door, I'm acutely aware of Ryan's intense gaze following my every move. The air crackles with unspoken tension.

I grab my purse from behind the counter, my fingers fumbling nervously with the strap. When I turn around, Ryan is right there, crowding into my space. The spicy scent of his cologne invades my senses.

"Ready?" he asks, one eyebrow quirked.

"Y-yes," I stammer, pulse racing as memories of our forbidden tryst replay in my mind—his rough hands gripping my hips, his hardness pressing against me...

I shake my head to clear the scandalous thoughts. Ryan takes my elbow and guides me out the back, his touch searing through my cardigan. I pray he can't feel me trembling as we walk to his car. What is happening to me? I'm not this wanton woman who lets a near stranger take such liberties. And yet, I cannot resist his pull, consequences be damned.

The door shuts with a note of finality and Ryan puts the car in gear. I chance a glance at his chiseled profile.

He doesn’t speak as he drives us, and I’m so nervous I can’t speak either.

So we sit in a charged silence under we get to our destination.

The restaurant Ryan chooses is dimly lit and intimate. Surprisingly, it’s one I’ve never been to, and I’ve been almost everywhere here.

We’re sitting secluded in a back booth, knees brushing beneath the table, and the rest of the world falls away. I fidget with my water glass, hyperaware of his closeness.

"So tell me about yourself, Ava," Ryan prompts, his deep baritone sending shivers down my spine. "What's a beautiful woman like you doing all alone in this small town?"

I lift one shoulder in a shrug, trying to appear casual despite my racing heart. "I've always lived here. The bookshop was my grandmother's—it's my life now. My safe haven." Until he upended everything.

"Hmm." His blue eyes study me intently, seeing too much.

I flush at his heated gaze. "What about you? You never did tell me what you do." I boldly meet his gaze. Two can play at this game.

Ryan's jaw clenches and he looks away. "I’m a cop from the city. I'm on mandatory leave. There was...an incident. Asuspect…I broke protocol. The slimeball hit a woman, so I shot him. He didn’t die, but I was supposed to just arrest him—not seek vigilante justice.” He scoffs, “They thought I should take some time away to clear my head."

My heart clenches and melts at the same time. He was trying to protect a woman, and it might have cost him his job. Impulsively, I reach across the table and lay my hand over his. "I'm so sorry, Ryan. That must be really hard."

His hand turns beneath mine, fingers intertwining. The pad of his thumb strokes across my sensitive skin and I barely suppress a gasp. Electric currents zing through my body at the simple touch.

"Ava." His eyes blaze into mine, dark with emotion and something more feral.

Desire.

Possession.

The intensity steals my breath. This connection between us...it defies reason. I should run far away from this man and the dangerous feelings he evokes. But I'm caught in his orbit, a satellite helpless to resist his gravitational pull.

Abruptly, Ryan signals for the check, tossing bills on the table. "Let's get out of here." His tone brooks no argument.

Pulse pounding, I follow him out into the night.

The short drive back to the bookshop passes in a blur, the cool night air doing nothing to douse the heat simmering under my skin. Ryan's hand rests possessively on my thigh, branding me through the thin fabric of my dress.

We barely make it through the door before he's on me, crowding me back against the nearest bookshelf. Novels topple to the floor unheeded as his solid frame presses into my softer curves, igniting flames of desire that lick through my veins.

"I've wanted to do this all night," he rasps, breath hot against my neck. "You're driving me crazy, Ava."

"Ryan..." His name escapes on a breathy moan as his lips blaze a trail along my jaw. Large hands grip my hips, fingers digging deliciously into my flesh.

I'm drowning in sensation, my mind clouding with lust. I know I should stop this, put some distance between us. But my body betrays me, arching into his touch, silently begging for more.

Cool air kisses my heated skin as he drags down the zipper of my dress. It pools at my feet and I shiver, from the chill and the molten look in Ryan's eyes as he takes me in. Like a wolf sizing up his prey.

"Beautiful," he breathes reverently, callused palms gliding over my sides to cup my heavy breasts. I gasp as he rolls the hardened peaks between his fingers, sparks of pleasured pain shooting straight to my core.

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