Melatonin sex was the unicorn.
The mythical white whale.
Like a man who loved to give oral sex without expectinganythingin return.
Or a man who cleaned up after himself without being asked.
Or cheese that had no calories but wouldn’t give you the shits.
In other words, it doesn’t exist.
Yes. It does. You simply haven’t had it yet. You need to explore more. Maybe start in Ryker’s pants?
“Ugh,” I grunt as I finish getting dressed. Sometime during the night, Ryker left more respectable clothing on the end of my bed. How he managed to sneak into the guest room - the locked guest room - without waking me up is beyond me.
Fucking Native American Ninja.Yeah. I’m making that a thing.
I take a final look in the mirror. The pants were a little too long, but I found safety pins in the guest bathroom. You can barely see where I pinned them up. I don’t want to think about where he found a woman’s business suit in the middle of the night.
Ryker looks up from the island as I come downstairs. “Morning.”
I tilt my head. “Yes. It is. Morning.”
I walk to the coffee pot and pour myself a big cup. As I’m pouring the sugar into my coffee, the top falls off, plops down into the black nectar of the gods, causing sugar to pile up all over the counter.
Thankfully, I hopped backward when the lid came off, so I wasn’t splashed by coffee, but Ryker’s little prank has ruined my first attempt at not killing people today.
I put down the empty sugar shaker and turn toward him. “Cute.”
Ryker is laughing so hard. Crinkles frame his blue eyes, and that does something to me for some reason. I don’t know if I’ve seen him laugh like this since we met, and I have to admit. It’s a good look for him. Plus, great prank. He waited until my guard was down, and he pounced.
Maybe he’ll pounce on our pus-
“Pushy!” I holler.
“What?” Ryker sobers, then heads toward the utility closet for a broom.
Huh. The man set me up with a sugar bomb. Now he’s cleaning it up.Interesting.
“Nothing,” I dump the now over-sugared coffee into the sink, along with the mug. “I don’t make much sense before I have my morning caffeine.”
Ryker nods and cleans up the mess. “Sit. I’ll get you a fresh cup. With the appropriate amount of cavity-producing sugar.”
I snort. “Judgey much?”
He raises an eyebrow at me, and I swear, that eyebrow is directly linked to my Central Coochie System.
I clear my throat. “So. Evelyn seems nice. How long have you known each other?”
“Since high school,” Ryker answers over his shoulder.
I deflate, and my Central Coochie System goes on standby. I can’t compete with a beautiful woman he’s known since high school. Plus, I am trying to hang onto my mad about him being a misogynist pig, but all evidence points to that being a ruse. A false front.
“Hmm,” my mind starts spinning through the events of the last couple of days. “Do you think it’s possible the investigators missed something in Sheila’s condo?”
Ryker slides a mug in front of me. I take a sip. It’s perfect.
I smile at him. He smiles back, and just like that - The Central Coochie System is back online.
