Oh, for God’s sake.
Apparently, he’d decided to torture me by changing out of his shirt and into … nothing. Just low-slung sweats that highlighted the V of muscles disappearing beneath his waistband. His chest was a masterpiece of defined abs and intricate tattoos. Dark ink swirling across his shoulders and down his arms in patterns that made my fingers itch to trace them.
And, damn him, he was still semi-aroused. The outline was clearly visible through the fabric of his sweatpants, and the sight sent a fresh wave of fire through my already-overheated body.
“Subtle,” I said, grabbing a water bottle from the fridge and pointedly not looking at the way his muscles shifted when he moved.
“Problem?” He cocked his head.
Oh, hell no.He wasn’t winning. I’d worked too hard on that yoga stunt to lose now.
I opened the water, took a long drink, deliberately letting a few drops escape and trail down my chin to the base of my neck. As I trailed it even lower with my finger, his eyes tracked the movement, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed hard.
“No problem at all,” I said sweetly, drawing the water droplet to the neckline of my shirt. “Just admiring your … commitment to staying cool.” This time, I dipped my finger into the water and slowly drew it into my mouth, wrapping my lips around my knuckle and giving off a soft groan because, seriously, if we were going to play hormone war, I was going to win.
When I pushed the finger deeper into my mouth, his nostrils flared, and I caught the way his hands gripped the edge of the counter behind him. Like he needed something to hold on to, to keep from reaching for me.
Muhahahaha.
I was totally going to go further, but before I had the chance, the elevator opened, and Ryker stormed in like a man on a mission, a manila folder clutched in his hand.
“You want the bad news or the really bad news?” Ryker asked.
His eyes swept the room, landing briefly on Axel’s strategic hand placement over his sweatpants. Ryker’s gaze flicked to me, then back to Axel’s obvious predicament. With a look of pure annoyance, Ryker rolled his eyes and cleared his throat pointedly.
“Seriously?” he muttered under his breath.
“Whatever this is, it couldn’t wait until morning?” Axel wondered. Probably needing to get into his room with a serious bottle of lotion right now.
Ryker ignored him, opening the file with the dramatic flair of a prosecutor presenting evidence. But I guess it tracked; Ryker was a criminal defense lawyer.
“That woman you were caught ‘flirting’ with.” Ryker slapped an 8x10 photograph down in front of us. “Victoria Webb. Senator Stephen Webb’s wife.”
Axel squinted at the photo. “Have you heard of digital photography? It’s this new concept where you can pull pictures up on your iPad instead of printing them like it’s 1995.”
“Her name sounded familiar to me.”
“We already know this,” Axel insisted. “She’s married to?—”
“Beyond that,” Ryker continued. “So, I did some digging into her family background.”
Okay? What did this have to do with Axel or me?
“Fascinating,” Axel drawled. “Did you also dig up her favorite coffee order? I’m betting she’s a pumpkin spice latte kind of woman.”
Poor guy. Blue balls was making him super cranky.
“Do you know who Victoria Webb really is?” Ryker’s voice had that edge that meant business.
Axel shrugged, the movement making his shoulder tattoo shift in a way that was definitely not distracting me. “America’s sweetheart. Political wife. Future First Lady. Woman with a ten-carat ring I apparently didn’t notice.”
“Her uncle is Tony Romano,” Ryker continued. “Now, what I’ve gathered here is uncorroborated testimony from an informant my colleague worked with. But it’s long been suspected that Romano is organized crime.”
Axel’s cocky smirk faltered. “The hell you talking about?”
I felt an unexpected twist in my stomach at the thought of Axel being in actual danger.
Ryker slid another photograph across the counter. This one was of a distinguished-looking man in an expensive suit with silver hair and cold, calculating eyes. Despite the respectable appearance, something about his smile promised violence.
