Page 23 of Cutter

“Lift your arms.” His deep voice was calm. She was a wreck. As she raised her arms, he picked up the hem of her top and gently pulled it over her head. There was no sensuality in his gesture, yet the backs of his fingers left a burning trail along her skin.

“How are you feeling?” His tone was matter of fact. No emotion there.

“Good.”

“Dizzy?”

“Not anymore.”

“That’s progress. I’ll leave you to finish undressing and shower. Put your underwear here.” He touched the top of the toilet seat. “Call me the minute you finish. I’ll be outside, waiting.”

“But?”

His smile was gentle. “I’ll find clothes in your dresser.”

That’s what I’m afraid of, she almost said. Instead, she nodded. “Okay.”

Cutter walked out of the bathroom, but left the door ajar. He’d designated himself as her Caregiver, at least for today, and he wasn’t letting up. As Emily removed her bra and panties, she tried to remember if anyone in her life had been so careful and interested in her well-being.

No one.

Mom had died when she was a child, and Dad had followed not long after. From then on, she’d been tossed around in the system, going from one foster home to another. In her adult years, Captain Weaver had been the closest to a relative, and he was only her boss. Maybe the concern the captain showed for her was a little more than what he gave her fellow detectives and officers, and that was gratifying. Still, she wouldn’t kid herself. The captain was a good man who cared about all his people. Not just her.

Big difference to what she was experiencing now.

She placed the folded underwear on the toilet seat and stepped into the shower stall. With every passing minute, the invigorating rush of warm water got her circulation going and cleared her head. By the time Emily soaped and rinsed, the malaise had left, and she felt like a brand-new person. Great, because outside waited a devilishly smart man, able to read her from top to bottom and difficult to mislead.

“I’m finished,” she shouted, turning off the water.

He came in, a towel in one hand and one of her favorite rompers, with pink flowers in the other. She winced, expecting a cutting comment or a barb.

None came. Instead, he wrapped the towel around her.

“I can do this,” she protested.

“Hush,” he retorted as he rubbed the towel over her wet skin with efficient strokes. The torture continued when he ordered her to open her legs, and he dried her sex and the crease of her ass with slow, careful pats. She thought he’d say something about her bare pussy, but he didn’t. Cutter was all business, while she was struggling between self-consciousness and arousal.

Emily couldn’t imagine how a virile, vibrant man like him could stay so detached from a naked woman in his hands. Unless…

“Ouch,” she yelped at a sudden sting on her ass. “What did I do?” She rubbed the burning spot.

He chuckled. “Surprised? I read you, kitten. I allowed the first demeaning thought to go by. Not another.”

“But—”

“Don’t. You lie, you get a smack.” Tightening the towel around her, Cutter pulled her to him, squishing her breasts against his muscular chest. His dark stare burned her. Was her imagination playing tricks with her, or did she see little flames in the black depths?

“I’m a dominant man who’s spent years learning a woman’s thoughts and reactions. I see yours clearly. You carry your emotions on the surface, kitten. I know you want me, and to state it for the record, I want you right back. But it’s not so simple, is it? There’s more, right?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

“Okay, then.” He loosened his hold so she could step back. “We have all day.” Just like that, he was back to his efficient demeanor. Throwing the damp towel over his shoulder, he unzipped the romper and held it low enough that she could step in. “Lean on my shoulder.” Once she finished, he turned her around and zipped her again.

She made a move to walk out, but he stopped her. “Stay.” Draping the towel over the sink, he put her underwear in the middle and made a bundle. Turning, he swept his arm under her butt and lifted her as she squealed. Enjoying the warmth of his body, she wrapped her arms around his neck and dropped her head on his shoulder as he took her to the living room and sat down with her on his lap.

Heaven opened its gates for Emily.

“Oh, Daddy.” The whisper slipped out of her soul. Nothing on this earth could’ve stopped her from saying it, not in this moment of pure bliss. Cutter didn’t respond. At least he was kind enough to pretend he hadn’t heard her. A derogatory comment on his part would’ve broken her heart.

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