Page 98 of Cuffed (Everyday Heroes 1)
“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.
Next his bulletproof vest.
When he’s standing in my flat in nothing but his unbuttoned pants with a delicious section of happy trail on display, I have no qualms about appreciating the view.
Oh. My.
Sure we’ve already seen each other naked, but there’s something different about watching someone undress when the taste of their kiss is still on your lips. There’s a sensuality to it, an intimacy I’m not used to, so I take the time to admire him. His hard lines and tan edges. His broad shoulders and cut biceps.
With his eyes on mine and a smile playing at the corner of his mouth, Grant pushes his uniform pants down and then bends over to pick them up, giving me a very fine view of his boxer-brief clad ass when he does. So he’s in my apartment, in nothing but his underwear, fresh out of that hot uniform, and he seriously thinks I’m going to be caring about food right now?
“Grant?”
He looks over to me and stands to full height, every fabulous pack of the six he has rippling for added effect. “What?” he asks with feigned innocence. The man knows exactly what he’s doing as he makes a show of folding his uniform in some perfectionist way. Then he grabs the clump he dropped on the couch, which I now know are clothes.
“Food?”
“Yeah.” He slips a T-shirt over his head—some Back the Blue competition—and then pulls on his jeans. “I’m starving.” His grin appears again as he lifts his eyebrows while my tongue licks out to wet my lips. “You ready?”
