Page 67 of The Woman with the Wallet

The casual familiarity, though, had cartwheels going in my belly as I pretended to busy myself with digging into my duffle for a change of clothes myself, wanting to wash the dirt off of me from crawling on the floor, then on the ground outside of thedumpsters. But what I was really doing was watching as Miko peeled each layer off.

The shirt was gone first. Then there was a short pause of him topless as he took off his watch and cross.

Then off went the belt.

The shoes and socks.

And, finally, the pants.

I just barely managed to keep the little whimper that rose up my throat in as he hooked his fingers into his boxer briefs and lowered them down.

I was only getting a bit of a side and rear view until, suddenly, music blared seemingly through the whole apartment.

“Shoot. Sorry! Sorry!” Chuck yelled as Miko turned back, giving me the full, glorious view of him.

“Stereo can play through the whole apartment,” Miko explained as I tried to keep my gaze on his face.

Eventually, Chuck got the music to just play in the living area and hallway, a crooning singer-songwriter singing about love as that warm sensation wrapped around me again, willing me to acknowledge it, to put a name to it.

“Sugar?” Miko called, suddenly a lot closer than he’d been a second ago as I pretended to focus on my duffle bag.

“What?” I asked, refusing to look up, knowing he would see too much in my eyes, things I wasn’t even ready to think, let alone share.

“Nothing. Just… This,” he said as his hand grabbed the back of my neck, turning me so that his lips could claim mine.

Hard.

Hungry.

Possessive.

I was too far gone to pretend not to want it.

I melted into him, my hands sliding up his arms, feeling the chords of muscle, the warmth of his skin.

My arms wrapped around his neck as his free one went around my hips, crushing me to him, letting me feel the way his cock was hardening for me with each passing second.

Need pooled in my core, making a little mewling sound escape me.

But it was right then, when I was all warm and soft andreadythat Miko pulled back, stepped away, leaving me actually freaking swaying at the lack of his closeness.

Then, with nothing else, he turned and walked into the bathroom.

Alone, I collapsed back onto the bed, hand pressed to my lips, too aching with need to do anything but sit there in my unsatisfied desire, listening to the way the water cascaded off of Miko’s body and onto the tile floor as he showered.

He was done far before I could get a hold of my runaway desire, coming out in another damned low-slung towel as he made his way to the closet.

Not trusting myself not to jump him, I grabbed my change of clothes and ran into the bathroom.

It didn’t help. The entire room was full of his whiskey and tobacco scent.

But by the time I got in the shower and washed the day away, the exhaustion was pulling so heavily at my eyes that I was surprised I managed to get myself dressed before moving out and falling into the bed.

Beside me, Miko was already still.

As for me, I was out cold before I could even draw the covers up over my body.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

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