I pride myself on being smart and knowing the right thing to do, but…what I am doing now is not being smart. I’m playing with fire and I know it. I can’t help it.
I watch the city fly by as I try not to think of the skin I’m touching and how the consequences of the choices I’m making now could ruin my life. But right now, I don’t care. I close my eyes and revel in the moment, and the next time I open them, we’re parked right outside my building.
“We’re here,” he says, and I realize that I don’t want to climb off the bike and leave him. He helps me take off my helmet when I finally get off, and I expect him to get back on his bike and ride off, but he offers to walk me inside.
I should say no.
I should do a whole host of things that I haven’t been doing.
Tomorrow, I tell myself. Tomorrow, I’ll come back to my senses, but tonight I can allow myself to be walked to the door by ahandsome man. A man who I’ll pretend for the moment is most definitely not my client.
I turn to Trigger when we step into the elevator and decide to fill the tense silence with some chatter. “So, um, we’ll be seeing a lot of each other, huh?”
“We will,” he says, turning those steel-blue eyes to me. I instantly regret talking because now I have to follow up with something and…I have nothing. The way he looks at me? It’s a wonder I have any thoughts left when he’s scraped everything off. “Thanks to you, I’ll be sleeping in my own bed tonight and not in some pest-infected mattress in some dingy cell.”
Say something.
Anything.
“Yeah, those are the worst.”
Jesus Christ. It’s almost like I forgot how to have a proper conversation. What I would do to revert to the moment right before I opened my mouth.
I nearly sigh in relief when the elevator opens up to my floor. Trigger follows me when I step out and walks me to my door. I fumble with the keys, my fingers trembling as I slide them into the keyhole, wondering if I should invite him in and what will happen when I do.
“You did such a great job today, Maeve,” he rasps, stepping forward and lifting his hand to my cheek. My eyelids flutter and my lips part when he strokes his thumb over my cheek in a move so intimate it sends my heart pounding against my rib cage and my body fiercely aroused. “So fierce. So…beautiful.”
I nearly whine when he drops his hand and moves back, the humor dancing in his eyes telling me he knows all too well the effect this game he’s playing has on me.
“Trigger—”
“Get some rest, Miss Halloway. Like you said, we’ll be seeing a lot of each other.”
With a knowing smile, he turns around and walks away, leaving my mind confused and heart raging. My knees are trembling as I let myself into the apartment. Heck, I even convince myself that a shower will help erase the man’s touch, and by the time I’m slipping into bed, I almost have myself convinced that I dreamed up my reaction to his touch. That it never really happened.
Those steel-blue eyes never stared at me like they wanted to strip me naked. Those hands didn’t leave a storm of heat everywhere they touched.
I didn’t spend twenty minutes of the ride here feeling up the man’s abs. Those delicious muscles, strong and warm.
That voice…
“Oh God,” I whimper as I feel wetness spread in my core, arousal leaving me achy all over. My breasts are sensitive, and I bite back a moan as my nipples rub against the soft cotton of my spaghetti-strap pajama top when I move.
I know better than to indulge in these needs, considering who it is that arouses them in me. I should pull the blanket over my head and forget about him, but when I reach down, it’s to slip my hand into my pajama pants. When I close my eyes, it’s his dark blue eyes I see, so dark they mirror a glacier. It’s that deep voice I hear in my head, urging me to do it.
To rub off the ache he left behind.
I slide my finger through my folds and into the wetness of my sex, heaving out a sharp breath when my fingers brush my clit. “Trigger,” I whimper, sliding my other hand under my top and palming my left breast, stroking my nipples as I picture hishands doing it for me. Those large, calloused hands strumming my aching nipples, playing with them until I’m writhing helplessly under him.
“You were magnificent in that courtroom. I’m in awe of you.”
I moan as wetness floods my sex, slicking my finger as it strokes around my clit. I don’t bother to acknowledge or question why his praise arouses me. Nothing about the man makes sense. It doesn’t need to.
Not in this moment.
“So fierce. So beautiful.”
“Oh!” My head falls back as I work my finger faster and faster, panting as every stroke sends me closer to the edge. I pinch my nipples, trembling as I picture his hands on my body. It’s that deep, raspy voice, those heated eyes, that sexy body in the room with me. “So close.”
