“Fuck,” He growled and then he came, filling my mouth and praising me with delicious words of desperate need and longing until I was gasping and fumbling with the door handle to get out of the truck and into my bed. “Come here, pretty girl.” He said, pulling me into his arms and throwing me over his shoulder as he locked his truck up and took the stairs two at a time into my front door. I giggled and held on for dear life as he headed straight for my bedroom. “How many times do you think you can come on my tongue while you imagine Rhea and me both doing it to you?”
“Mmh,” I groaned happily. “At least four. Minimum.”
“Six it is. After you come on my face six times, then I’ll fuck you.”
“I like this deal.” I giggled and then gasped as he tossed me down onto my bed. And then anything else I had to say was lost to the universe as Tanner Brooks stood at the foot of my bed, bathed in warm twinkly light glow and did that sexy thing where he pulled his shirt off over his head by the back of his collar, revealing his six-pack abs, one delicious dip and valley at a time.
Oh, I was going to enjoy being the center of his attention tonight, even if we were both thinking about our firecracker hotshot the whole time too.
I barely recognizedmyself in the mirror before I left my apartment. My silver dress skimmed my body like liquid moonlight, twinkling in the light with each bead. It was floor-length and open down the entire back, showing off the tattoo that ran from the back of my neck to my ass.
It was the most feminine thing I’d ever worn, all soft lines and delicate vulnerability. My hair was sculpted into fingerwaves, dark and glossy, framing my face in a way that felt almost old-Hollywood and dangerous. To top it off, a white fur shawl rested over my arms, light as snow, absurd and perfect.
I didn’t do delicate.
I didn’t do ornamental.
Tonight, though, I did both.
Goldie’s porch light glowed warm against the night as I climbed the steps and knocked. My heart was pounding harder than it ever had before, even during an intense fire call. Somehow, this felt riskier.
More dangerous.
Then the door opened.
Tanner stood there in a black suit with a charcoal shirt unbuttoned at the throat, no tie, and no apology for it. In one hand he held a rocks glass, a warm amber liquid chilling the crystal as he slid his other one into his pants pocket. He was the picture of masculinity.
The clean-cut cop was gone.
In his place was someone darker. Something sharper in his eyes. A man who knew exactly how much space he took up in a room.
And how his presence made a woman melt.
For half a second, neither of us spoke. His eyes swept over me slowly, intentionally.
“Well,” I said, arching a brow and steeling my spine because silence with Tanner Brooks, tonight of all nights, was dangerous. “Looks like you cheated and showed up early.”
His mouth curved into a lazy smirk that sent heat straight through me.
“Hard to be early,” he said evenly, “when I haven’t left since I got here last night.”
I snorted before I could stop myself, then shook my head and stepped over the threshold. “Asshole.”
“Guilty,” he replied, closing the door behind me.
He walked over to the sideboard in the dining room and poured a second glass of liquor, holding it out for me without asking if I wanted one. He knew.
We stood there, the space between us crackling as neither of us pretended not to look. The suit fit him too well. And the way he held himself tonight was too different for me to ignore.
His eyes silently tracked me as I lifted the glass to my lips and took a sip, leaving a red stain on the rim that held his attention.
“You’re breathtaking,” he said, his voice a mere whisper of honesty, breaking through the quiet like a gunshot.
The sincerity of his voice caught me off guard. I glanced away, suddenly aware of every exposed inch of skin bare to his eyes. Not in a bad way, but in a way that made me want him to look.
But compliments were not my strong suit.
“Thanks,” I muttered, taking a deep breath and another sip of liquid courage.
