Pushing up, she combed her fingers through his hair and stroked his whiskered cheeks. “Your aunt is amazing. How is it that she and your uncle don’t hate me?”
“Hate you? Why?”
“For what I put you through.”
“The charge was dropped, the ACPD issued a formal apology, and the pimp was caught. Heather and Gordon thought it was a misunderstanding, plus, they were dealing with some crazy stuff themselves.”
She pushed out of bed. “Roll onto your stomach.”
“Why?”
She retrieved a bottle of body oil from the bathroom. “Because I told you to.”
As he rolled over, she pulled off the linens and straddled his backside. And then, she started rubbing his shoulders.
“That feels phenomenal,” he said.
When she found a knot, she dug her knuckles into it, then ran her fingers along the muscle until she kneaded it smooth. He lost track of time. Reality faded, leaving only calm. After his back, she massaged his arms, then his glutes. She finished by giving him a foot rub.
“A present for you,” she whispered. “Do you want a happy ending?”
He rolled onto his back. “I would love one, but you—”
“You’ve been very generous with your time,” she said. “And you have none to spare. This is my way of saying thank you.”
Stryker couldn’t take his eyes off her as she stroked his shaft and ran her soft fingers around the wet head. With his balls in one hand, she took her time massaging him. With a sultry smile, she leaned over him and kissed him while he fondled her breasts. Her pace never changed, nor did the pressure. The build was luxurious, the release explosive. As he floated in bliss, she kissed him, then cleaned him up.
“I’m going to make us breakfast,” she whispered. She gave him one more tender kiss before she pulled on her tank top and shorty shorts. “C’mon, Pima.”
He opened his eyes. “Emerson.”
In the doorway, she turned back.
“You are a witch and I’ve fallen under your spell.”
She waggled her eyebrows and was gone. On a very satisfied, groan, he rolled out of bed and padded into the bathroom. He had no memory of the last time he’d feltthatrelaxed.
After throwing on his clothes, he found her sipping coffee at the table, staring out the bay window. He poured himself a mug and sat. “Thank you.”
“If only life was always that carefree.” Her smile was sad. “Being a cop keeps things real, you know?”
He wrapped his hand around the back of her neck and kissed her cheek. “You want me to relax you like that?”
“Another time,” she said. “That was for you.”
“I loved it.”
She rose. “I’m making omelets. You hungry?”
“I’ll help.”
Together, they made breakfast, then sat at the table. After a few bites, he asked, “Why wasn’t your brother one of the officers honored?”
“Because he died of a drug overdose.”
He ran a hand over her back for comfort. “That’s tough. I’m sorry.”
She forked egg into her mouth, swallowed it down with orange juice. “The police found his body behind a dumpster. He was jacked with so much heroin and fentanyl, he didn’t stand a chance. Someone wanted to make damn sure he didn’t survive.” Tears filled her eyes and his heart broke.
