Page 33 of Ridin' Solo
“Hey.”
My stomach dropped to my toes and my knees went weak. I would know that whispered voice anywhere. Wyatt stood directly behind me, his eyes hooded when I glanced over my shoulder. He came closer, the heat of him scandalous considering we were out in the open. Okay, sure, we were off in a dark corner while the department was empty, but anyone coming in or out of the main office would see us.
I didn’t dare turn around yet, just focused on the unit I’d placed on the desk. I had to clear my voice before I could get words out.
“Wyatt…” I warned.
His hand came up, his finger tracing the line of skin on my neck showing above the collar of my uniform. I shivered, the caress just the tip of the iceberg of how I wanted him to touch me. But not here. Not now.
“You have the softest skin,” he murmured, his finger finding the shell of one ear. “The cutest ears.”
I silently demanded my knees to quit shaking. I’d faced down hardened criminals with more strength than this. “I’m not cute.”
He huffed out a breath I felt more than heard. “Tell that to your ears.” He flicked my earlobe before tracing back to the other side to pay equal attention to my other ear.
I closed my eyes for a moment and relished the feeling of a man finding me so attractive that even my ears turned him on. Knowing I could have stayed there forever, letting him touch me and croon in my ear with that gravelly voice, knowing we could be interrupted any second…well, it scared me. It scared me to think I’d risk my job for a simple caress that didn’t belong in the workplace.
My brain cleared, my knees straightened, and I spun around, sidestepping away from Wyatt. “Don’t, Wyatt,” I said firmly.
He held his hands up, looking hotter in his uniform than any cop had a right to. “Sorry ’bout that. I seem to lose my head around you.”
I was about to accept the sincere and sweet apology when he ruined it with a joke.
“Both heads, actually.”
I rolled my eyes and walked away, calling over my shoulder, “Good night, Wyatt.”
He ran after me, catching up and walking out to the parking lot with me. “I was going to see if you wanted to join me for dinner at my place. I’m trying out chicken cacciatore tonight.”
My brain skidded to a stop like a record screech. “You cook?”
Wyatt crossed his arms across his broad chest and scraped a hand over his five o’clock shadow. “Hell yes, I cook, woman.” He leaned in and dropped his voice. “If you’d stayed longer the other day, I would have made you breakfast and you’d know that.”
I inhaled away the mental image of him fisting himself in the shower right before he’d turned me around and made me “spread ’em” like a damn criminal against the tiled wall. My nostrils flared, and I scrambled to think of something else. Was it getting steamy out here?
“Yeah, sorry. I have family dinner at my parents’ tonight.” I turned tail and nearly ran to my motorcycle, welcoming the cool air on my cheeks and needing to get away from Wyatt while I could still control myself.
“Have a good night, Captain,” he called with his beefy arms crossed over his chest, watching me hurry away with a smug smile on his face.
“Ugh!” I yelled into the wind as soon as I got down the road from the station. “Stupid men and their stupid hot bodies.”
I didn’t even have time to go home and change. Mom, a seasoned cop’s wife, wouldn’t mind. My sisters would give me shit though, but I could handle them. Hell, I could handle most anyone, except for Wyatt. It was like now that I’d seen him naked and knew what he could do to my body, I’d turned into a sex-starved female willing to beg for more, not caring that my job could be on the line.
Dad was just getting out of his department police car in the driveway when I pulled up to the curb outside their house. He eyed my Grom like he always did, telegraphing his disapproval through a mere expression. It certainly worked, but not enough for me to sell it and get a car like everyone else. Until Wyatt, my little motorcycle had been my only walk on the wild side. Naively, I thought it would be just the right amount of danger for me to live the rest of my life by the strict rules I’d grown up with and adopted into my own life as an adult. Apparently the bad girl inside of me was stronger than I thought.
I pulled my helmet off and set it on the bike, walking up to give Dad a hug. He didn’t thump me on the back like usual. “Rough day?”
He harrumphed and steered us to the door with his arm around my shoulder like he’d done since I was a little girl. “Yes. Very.”
My gut clenched, and I held myself back from checking his person for injuries. He’d hate for me to fuss over him. Besides, I knew Mom would do enough fussing for both of us. “Want to talk about it?”
“Damn budget meetings all damn day.” Dad drew his eyebrows together and then wheezed out a laugh. “If you say I’ve turned into an old house mouse, I will find a way to get your ass tied to a desk so you feel my pain.”
Relieved it was only budget meetings bothering him, I held my hands up in peace. “Hey, I never mentioned your desk jockey status. That was all you.”
His eyebrows were back to puckering up. “Desk jockey, huh? Least I’m not out there roping a bull.”
I bent over laughing at that. “Oh, you finally heard about that one, huh?”
