Ridin' Solo (Sisters From Hell Book 1), Marika Ray [librera reader txt] 📗

A single finger came up to flick the tiny strap of my top. That finger stayed on my skin, trailing along the hemline of my shirt, across my chest and up my throat, leaving a line of goose bumps in its wake. My thighs clenched together, trying to stave off the zings of pleasure that had me thinking of doing something very, very stupid.

His heat radiated off from his bare chest and my hands couldn’t stay away. I laid my palms flat across his abs, just below the bandage, absorbing his warmth and yet wanting more. His nostrils flared at my touch and one or both of us must have moved since suddenly his lips were on mine, pressing insistently. I didn’t think, just reacted to the want coursing through every previously slumbering cell in my body.

His tongue flicked against my bottom lip and I opened, needing him to consume me and put out this inferno that had burned away all my previous caution. His hands slid around my waist and pressed me against the full length of his body. Nothing existed outside of his scent surrounding me, the hard muscles beneath my fingertips, and his lips tasting me like he was a starving man. I groaned into his mouth and shifted my hips, trying desperately to assuage whatever I was seeking. He moved too, the proof of his desire digging into my stomach.

“Still think the bunny vibrator is better than the real thing?” he whispered against my neck as he plucked at my skin.

The squawk of the radio had me jumping back from him, my hand covering my mouth as some sort of flimsy barrier against further kisses. My eyes went wide as I realized what we had just done. What he’d just said. Wyatt’s hair lay rumpled from my own hands, his chest heaving like he’d gotten in a round or two with another pissed-off suspect. His lips were wet and his eyes still held the heat I had a feeling I’d crave for all eternity now that I’d had a taste.

“Another cat escape in Auburn Hill. All units available asked to help round them up,” came the voice of the dispatcher.

I looked over to see his radio tossed on the little kitchen table. It lay next to his utility belt. The one that looked identical to mine. Clearing my throat, I stepped closer to the front door. Twice I’d found myself in a compromising position with my partner. The first had been an accident on both our parts. This time? I’d been an active participant.

I had to get out of there. Now.

I backed up all the way until I bumped into the door, keeping my eye on him with a hand held out between us, as if to keep him back. Wyatt hadn’t moved a muscle though, except for the one by his jaw that kept clenching over and over. The doorknob was in my hand and escape was near.

“That didn’t just happen,” I croaked and then ran out the door like the flames of hell were licking at my Crocs.

It wasn’t until I got back to my house, slammed and locked the door behind me, that I allowed myself to go over what just happened. Had that whole kiss just been about him teasing me? Was it all just a big joke to him? Or did he feel the same pull I felt?

I had a feeling I wouldn’t get much sleep that night trying to answer those questions. And to figure out what to do with what he’d said as I ran out the door.

“Fuck yes, it did.”

9

Wyatt

I glanced through the window first, seeing movement and wanting to make sure I wasn’t walking into another porn session. Actually, who was I kidding? If Oakley was naked and playing the tickle game with that damn purple vibrator again, I was absolutely knocking down her door and coming right in like I owned the place.

Instead, what I saw was a—sadly—fully dressed Oakley, sitting on the floor of her living room, wrangling with a pink ribbon like it was a real live snake. I rolled in my lips to keep from laughing. The woman was…well, I didn’t quite know what she was. I’d never felt this way for a woman, ever, which was why I’d stayed away all week after we kissed. Yeah, we’d had to work together, but both of us had pulled back. She was back to being the ice queen and rarely making eye contact. I dialed back the teasing and tried to stay focused on the job.

What I felt toward Oakley scared the shit out of me.

There. I said it.

I was a grown man, scared of a five-foot-three woman who couldn’t tie a damn ribbon.

I’d spent the entire week vacillating between wanting to grab her to kiss the hell out of her, and wanting to run far, far away. I was attracted to her, maybe more than any woman in my life, but I also knew starting something with her could be the end of the first thing I’d done in my life that actually mattered. I was finally a well-respected law enforcement officer with a career I could be proud of. I couldn’t mess that up by sleeping with my partner. My superior, for fuck’s sake.

But seven whole days without having a proper conversation with her had worn on me. I couldn’t keep walking on eggshells around her. We needed to clear the air.

I knocked on her door and stepped back. When it finally swung open several minutes later, I had to shove my fist against my mouth to keep from laughing out loud. Oakley stood there in leggings, a sweatshirt, and the contents of a five-pound bag of glitter scattered from the top of her head—hair still in a bun—to her red-painted toenails.

She lifted an eyebrow and put a hand on her hip, just daring me to say anything. I also noticed she didn’t ask me to