Page 27 of The Scout

The sharp edge in his voice. The way he’d looked at me before throwing that last punch. Like he’d wanted me to see. Like he’d wanted me to know that he’d do it again. For me. It made me wonder what else he’d do for me.

Ryker was so damn good looking. His dark hair, cropped clean and close, the set of his strong jaw, the way the muscles in his forearms rippled as he crossed them over his chest. He truly was a prime physical specimen. I’m not sure I’d ever been so attracted to a man in my entire life.

I pressed my hands against the porcelain sink, my breath coming too fast. Heat built in my body, and I wanted a release. I could feel the wetness soaking my lace panties. My wetness. In that moment, I didn’t care that Iwas at work or that this wasn’t exactly the most comfortable setting. Something primal had been ignited in me. I had to give it the attention it craved.

Ryker had touched me earlier. Claimed me without words. His fingers on my wrist, his palm against my hip. And I’d melted. His touch had sent electricity to every last one of my nerve endings, including some I’m not sure I knew I had.

Now?

I let out a shuddering breath as I slipped a hand down my stomach, past the waistband of my skirt. I smiled as I reached my most sensitive spot and felt the warmth.

I shouldn’t be doing this. I shouldn’t be thinking about Ryker like this. But I was. Maybe it was more exciting because it was taboo. I’d never thought of myself as a girl who craved the forbidden, yet here I was, practically salivating after one very forbidden man. What would my brother think if he knew?

I became wild with need as I imagined what Ryker Dane would look like without a shirt, his muscular frame on full display, his strong shoulders flexing. Talk about eye candy.

I imagined his rough hands instead of my own. His voice—low and dark and dangerous—telling me what to do. As my pulse quickened, I closed my eyes and imagined him on his knees below me, his mouth teasing as it licked hungrily. I’d probably shatter into a thousand pieces if his mouth ever did touch me there.

I bit my lip to keep quiet, my fingers moving in slow, desperate circles against my clit.

It wasn’t enough. I needed more.

I thought about the way he would feel pressed against me. The heat of his body, the weight of him. Theway his breath would brush against my skin as he murmured something filthy in my ear. I thought about his hard dick, which was no doubt a masterpiece on its own. I thought about him thrusting into me, making me scream louder than Pia ever had with Ben.

The tension coiled, tighter and tighter. My legs trembled.

I wanted to moan. I wanted to scream Ryker’s name.

So wet. So close.

I let out a soft, broken sound?—

And then?—

A knock.

A deep voice just outside the door.

“Isabel.”

My breath caught.Oh. Oh, God.

I yanked my hand away, straightening so fast my knees nearly buckled. My heart slammed against my ribs, the shame burning hot beneath my skin.

Had he?—?

Had he heard me?

The silence stretched.

Then—

A low chuckle.

My stomach dropped.

“Couldn’t even finish, could you?” Ryker’s voice was dark amusement and something else entirely. Something hungry. “That’s because it’s not your fingers you want.”

I whimpered.Oh, fuck.

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