Page 88 of Cuffed (Everyday Heroes 1)
No top. No nothing.
Talk about a morning view I’d like to revisit.
That fact makes it that much harder not to stare at her and her perfectly perky set of tits. I can remember so very vividly how her nipples feel against my tongue, and it makes my damn mouth water.
Fuck if my morning hard-on isn’t begging to take advantage of everything about her again, but there’s so much more at stake right now than coming again.
Like her not realizing that we’ve broken her first rule, not once but twice.
No overnights.
I would be surprised if she doesn’t already realize that and is making her coffee and plotting how to get control of the situation back. I’ll gladly give it to her if I get to end up sitting here watching her shirtless in her kitchen again.
“How do you want yours?” she asks.
“I can get it.”
“Relax. I’m perfectly capable of pushing a button and not screwing it up. If it were anything more than that, then you could be concerned.”
“Black, please.”
After putting in a fresh pod and pressing the button to start the machine, she pads to one side of the small loft and fires up her computer without looking at the screen. My attention stays on her as she checks her cell phone and gives it a roll of her eyes over something before flipping a file folder open and making a note in it.
A file folder.
Much like the one in a box on my table at home.
How the fuck can the little girl on that folder’s label be this same damn woman in front of me. Shouldn’t she be fucked up? Shouldn’t she be a mess of issues?
Maybe she is underneath and is simply doing a damn good job of hiding it.
Then again, it’s hard to see a thing when her self-assuredness, confidence, and strength roll off her in thick waves.
Thankfully, the jiggling of her tits as she walks to get our coffee steers my thoughts away from any further psychoanalyzing. They mesmerize me as she crosses the distance, and hell if I’m not blatantly appreciating them. It’s only when she stops at the edge of the bed and holds the cup of coffee out to me that I meet her eyes.
“You like what you see?” She laughs with a raised set of eyebrows, and I love that she is secure enough she can ask the question and make it sound sexy instead of conceited.
“No complaints here. I’m just trying to figure out how I can see this view more often.”
“Such a typical male. You get blown, fucked, then fucked again, but you still aren’t satisfied.” Her smile is wide as she sits on the bed facing me with one knee bent beneath her and the other leg hanging off the edge. “What’s it going to take, Malone?”
“More of you.”
There’s a silent moment that passes where her eyes soften and her smile slowly falls, vulnerability written all over her features before she throws her head back and laughs as if what I said is the funniest thing in the world.
“Flattery will get you everywhere.” She takes a sip of her coffee but leaves her eyes on mine from above the rim.
“It will?”
“It will.”
“Good to know,” I say as I lean back against the headboard and look around her place. It’s small but has a pretty cool setup. The colors are muted, the furniture is modest, but it’s a complete reflection of her. Practical and minimalist. The best part is the series of windows that face out to the field and trees opposite the landing strip.
“Who do you rent this place from, again?” I ask, already knowing the answer.
“Travis Barnhardt.”
“I think I know him.”
