Page 73 of Charmed

Groaning, he gripped her wrists and placed them over her head, then slid his hands down her arms, over her sides, and to her thighs. Bunching the satin fabric of her nightgown, he began the slow ascent back up until the material was bound around her waist and her body hummed from need.

The hard ridge of his erection rubbed against where he made her ache, and she arched into him. He wore briefs, the only barrier between them. While she'd been asleep, he must've taken off his jeans because she hadn't noticed. She ran her hands across the smooth skin of his back, and his muscles flexed in response.

"You gorgeous witch." He kissed her collarbone, her shoulder. "Isn't this a better way to wake up than your excuses for caffeine?"

She threw her head back, fingers in his hair, trying to catch her breath. "Coffee is a life necessity."

He grazed his lips up her neck, nuzzling her ear. "Agree, but so is this."

Panting, she wrapped her legs around his and rocked her hips. "Yes, but my beans are Arabica straight from Columbia. Very tempting."

"Let me introduce you to the meaning of temptation, babe." He sealed his mouth to hers, his kiss more desperate than cajoling. He slid his hand behind her neck and thrust. The hot, hard length of him pressed against her, and she cried into his mouth. "Told you. That's a proper wake-up. See what you've been missing?"

"I can see your point," she breathed, opening her eyes.

He smiled, brushing his nose with hers. It was a sweet little gesture he'd done more than once and always sent a little pang of aw-shucks straight to her chest.

A scratching sound emitted from the direction of the hallway and a piece of paper slid under her door. Footsteps padded away.

Frowning, she conjured a stream of air and brought the paper to her outstretched hand. She surveyed the note from Ceara.

Tristan texted. We're all doing a half day at work. Don't get up. I've got the shop covered this morning. Violet will close. Meeting at the mansion at noon to discuss the plan for tonight. Tell Riley.

Fiona turned the note around for him.

He scanned the page and grunted. "Buzz kill."

"Why didn't Tristan group text?"

Taking the paper from her, Riley set it on the nightstand. "Probably because I told him I was coming over here and not to bother us unless someone was bleeding."

She nodded, hating how the heat from minutes before had evaporated. "You're not going to go postal again, are you?"

"At the moment? No. I can't guarantee I won't later, though." He shook his head and rolled off her, glaring at the ceiling. "I hate this plan, babe. I mean, really fucking despise it. Slightly less than the bastard you're meeting, with the fire of all the flames in hell, and more than beets, I loathe it."

"Beets, huh? Learn something new every day."

He turned his head to look at her. "Beets are disgusting. That's a fact."

"Yep. I refuse to eat anything that smells like a dead guy's gym shoes." At his laugh, she rolled on her side to face him, propping her head in her hand. "Do you want to go with me tonight? Will that make you more comfortable with the idea?"

He went still, studying her with something she could only translate as shock-and-awe. "You'd do that? Change the schematics just to make me feel better?"

"Yes," she said slowly, wondering why that was such a big deal. They were a team and he was upset. Why wouldn't she adjust? "Of course."

His forehead wrinkled and he opened his mouth, but quickly shut it again. His gaze darted around the room like he was caught in an epic conundrum in his mind with no solution in sight. Finally, he went back to glaring at the ceiling with a heavy sigh.

"Talk to me, Riley. What do you want to do?"

He laughed without mirth, rubbing his eyes. "Want and need are separate things. So are should and could." He shook his head. "You'll never get anything useful out of my uncle with me there. His ego is bigger than the state of Texas, and if he thinks he's got you, or that you're considering his offer, he's likely to say things he'd ordinarily keep close to the vest. You have to go alone."

Before she could respond, he sat up and moved to straddle her. On his hands and knees, he glared down at her like restraint was swimming with the fishes. "So help me, Fi, you better take every precaution imaginable. That bastard has no conscience. He'll destroy anything in his way and won't think twice. Plot this out, have a backup plan, and have a backup plan to that one. I know you're ferocious and you can handle yourself, but if he lays one finger on you, I won't be responsible for my actions. Understand me?"

Loud and clear. And, wow. Riley all worked up and in alpha mode? Rawr.

Skin hot, breath short, she cleared her throat. "Okay."

He reared. "Okay? What do you mean, okay?"

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