Page 335 of Off Limits: The Firsts

“Yeah, but the view here is much nicer.” He quirks an eyebrow, and the sweep of his eyes over my body tells me the view he’s talking about is me.

I did tell him flattery would get him everywhere.

“Well, what if I want a different view?”

“We can go somewhere else if you want. The view I came here to enjoy is mobile.” He flashes a heart-stopping grin.

“Good to hear you want to go somewhere else. Go ahead. I’ll stay here.” I match him smile for smile.

“Suit yourself,” he says, tossing the magazine on the coffee table and shifting to lie back on my couch, feet hanging off one armrest while his head is on the other.

I rise and walk to the couch so I can stare down at him with my arms crossed. And as much as I’m playing the hard ass, every other part of my body is sizing him up and wondering how quick I can peel that uniform off him . . . then again, maybe he should leave it on. It is sexy as hell.

“Without you,” I warn.

“C’mon. You know you like me.” He closes his eyes and settles into the cushions.

“No I don’t. I only like your cock.”

He snorts and opens one eye to stare at me at the same time he reaches a hand out to rest on the back of my knee. “You like my mouth, too.”

His thumb brushes up and down the backside of my knee and sends shockwaves through my body. “It is a pretty damn good mouth.”

“Then there are my hands . . .”

“Mmm.”

And within a second, he has pulled me down on top of him and his lips are on mine in a kiss to rival all kisses. It’s hot and sweet and sexy and all-consuming, and when he pulls back, it leaves me breathless to the point that my chest is heaving and my eyes can’t seem to break away from his.

There’s a brief moment where I see something in his eyes—sadness, regret, I’m not sure—before it clears away. It makes me want to ask him what happened today that brought him to my doorstep.

I’d like to think he’s here because he wants to see me. The kiss he just mesmerized me with says I’m at least part of the reason, but I’m also observant enough to know something is bugging him.

“Officer, is that your baton or are you just happy to see me?” I murmur.

His laugh rumbles through his chest and into me, and there is something about the moment—the ease of it—that makes me feel a bit better about whatever is bugging him.

“I’m hungry,” he says, suddenly shifting our bodies so that he’s sitting up sideways on the couch with my ass between the V of his thighs.

My laugh is instant. My desire well above a simmer. My body begging him to lie back down so that I can kiss him again. “You’re hungry?”

“Yep. Let’s go get something to eat.”

“What? Where?”

“You’re the one who said you wanted a change of scenery.”

“I changed my mind.” I run my fingertip down the side of his jaw.

“Unchange it. I’m hungry, and from what you’ve said, I can garner your cooking skills aren’t that great.”

“Like I offered.” I scoff but smile.

“So, it’s decided. We’re going to grab something to eat. I just need to change first.” And without another word, he shifts out from behind me and stands before he begins unbuckling his duty belt.

Then unlacing his boots.

Then unbuttoning his shirt.