Riley jammed her key in the door and jerked it to the right, the task made harder by the distraction of Claire’s hands on her back, winding their way up her jacket and tugging her shirt out of her jeans. She shoved her way inside her apartment, barely able to contain the urgent need to pull Claire into her arms. She shut the door behind them and whirled around, pulling Claire into her arms and shivering when Claire’s hands stroked her naked back. “You’re killing me.”
Claire leaned back and gave her a long, slow smile. Riley dipped her head, touching her lips to Claire’s, savoring the simple connection before pressing harder to deepen the kiss. Claire opened her mouth to welcome her in, and Riley moaned with pleasure as they tasted and teased in tandem. When they broke for air, Riley could barely form words, murmuring, “so good, so good.” She shrugged out of her jacket and tugged the rest of her shirt from her waistband.
“Here, let me,” Claire said, easing her hands around Riley’s waist in slow, delicious strokes. She started unbuttoning Riley’s shirt, taking her time, finally shucking it off and tossing it on the couch with her bra close behind. Claire traced her breasts, lightly rubbing her thumbs over her nipples until they peaked with desire, and then she bent and sucked each one in turn. Riley, lost in the sensation, staggered and braced against the wall, desperate not to break their embrace. Claire lavished her breasts with her tongue, over and over and over until Riley was certain she would come while standing in the center of the room.
“Do you have a bed behind that screen?” Claire whispered in her ear.
“I do,” Riley gasped.
“I think we should get you into it. There are things I want to do, and if I do them right, you won’t be able to stand for long.”
“You might be a mind reader.” Riley grasped Claire’s hand and led her to the bed.
“Someone likes a lot of pillows,” Claire said, grabbing one of the many throw pillows from the bed and giving a tight squeeze.
“Pillows are one of my guilty pleasures.” Riley pulled her favorite patchwork velvet pillow into her arms. She rubbed her face against its soft surface. “Feels so good.”
“Wishing I was a velvet pillow right now.”
Riley reached out and ran her hand along the side of Claire’s face. “Don’t tell my pillow, but I think you’re winning the ‘feels so good’ competition.”
“Oh, there’s a competition?” Claire asked. “I love a competition.”
Riley grinned. “Really? I never would’ve guessed.” She’d barely gotten the words out before Claire tugged her onto the bed.
“You won the kissing contest,” Claire said, settling beneath her, propped on the giant collection of pillows. “But we have many other events to go.”
As she spoke, Claire started unfastening her blouse, but Riley placed her hands over Claire’s and pushed them away. “I got this. Save your energy for the next round.” As she slowly loosened each button, she dropped her head and ran her tongue down the length of Claire’s neck. She pulled back the silk and left a trail of whisper light kisses on Claire’s naked shoulder as she unfastened her bra and slowly removed it along with the shirt, letting the delicious delay of anticipation amp up her desire.
“I want to feel every inch of you,” Claire gasped, fumbling with buttons on Riley’s jeans. Riley reached out with one hand and grasped the headboard, struggling to contain her arousal as Claire slid her hand inside the waistband of her boxer briefs and inched her fingers toward her wet center. Riley’s hips rocked in time with Claire’s steady strokes, and she bent forward, taking one of Claire’s hard nipples into her mouth and circling it with her tongue. Claire arched off the bed, and moved her hand lower, entering Riley with one finger, then two. Between thrusts, Claire’s thumb glided over her clit, soft passes at first, then with mounting pressure until Riley could no longer distinguish the difference between giving pleasure and receiving it. She closed her eyes and let her only awareness be every touch between them—electric, sparking waves of ecstasy, pulsing and pounding her toward unimaginable release. When she came, she heard deep, guttural groans of pleasure, and she recognized the voice as her own though she’d never made these sounds, never experienced this level of pleasure.
A hand brushed against her cheek and she opened her eyes. She was lying next to Claire, in her arms. Safe and sated, staring at tender blue eyes looking deep into her soul. “You.”
“Yes.” Claire laced her fingers through hers. “Also, you. That was amazing.”
“You have no idea.”
“I kind of do.” Claire traced her lips with her forefinger. “I had a front row seat.”
Riley kissed the tip of Claire’s finger. “Are we still on the competition theme?”
Claire shook her head slowly, her blond waves fanning out against her shoulder. “I think we already have a winner.”
“Oh, is that right?” Riley caught her wrist and gently flipped Claire over so that she was on top for the second time. She stretched Claire’s arm onto the pillow above her head and used her other hand to do the same with Claire’s other arm, joining them both at the wrist with one hand. She dipped her head and brushed her lips across Claire’s, pausing long enough to tease Claire into arching off the bed for more before lightly kissing her way down her chest, pausing to coax her nipples into hard points of pleasure before she dropped lower, dipping her tongue into Claire’s warm, wet core, holding on tight as Claire rocked beneath her. She never would’ve imagined Claire surrendering to pleasure with such abandon, and it was the ultimate aphrodisiac. This woman was full of surprises and she planned to spend the rest of the night teasing them out of her.
* * *
Claire rolled onto her side and patted the bed beside her. Nothing. She opened her eyes and scanned what she could see without sitting up—she wasn’t sure she had the energy after a full night in Riley’s bed. She was still there, but Riley wasn’t, and the idea of waking up without her after the night they’d shared left her lonely and a little sad.
“You’re awake.”
Claire turned her head at the sound of Riley’s voice and pulled a muscle. “Ouch,” she said, rubbing her neck. The pain was worth it. Riley stood next to the bed wearing tight jeans and an even tighter black T-shirt that hugged her sculpted chest. That beautiful body had topped her well into the night.
Riley grinned as if she could tell what Claire was thinking and set a steaming cup on the nightstand. Claire sniffed the air. “Is that coffee?”
“It is. I borrowed it from the couple downstairs. I hope it’s good. They fancy themselves to be quote the ‘in-home baristas,’ and they used lots of fancy words to describe its ‘essence.’”
Claire held the cup to her lips and let the aroma surround her before taking a sip. She moaned and took another.
“I recognize that sound,” Riley said. “Although you weren’t drinking coffee the last time you made it.”
“Coffee is now my second favorite thing,” Claire said. She reached for Riley’s hand. “A distant second.”
Riley bent down and cupped the back of her neck, gently pulling her into a slow, deep kiss, before settling in next to her in bed. “Last night was unexpected, but it was amazing.”
“Any regrets?” Claire asked.
“None. You?”
Claire saw the hopeful expression in Riley’s eyes and she fought hesitation. In this moment she wasn’t having any second thoughts, but that’s how it worked when you were basking in the glow. Would the flurry of emotions that accompanied this incredible attraction have staying power when she was back in the real world where cops weren’t supposed to sleep with witnesses and everyone was a suspect until the case was closed? She didn’t know the answer, but right now a gorgeous woman who’d spent the night pleasing her had wandered out to find her drink of choice in an incredibly thoughtful gesture, and she owed her an expression of appreciation. “Remember how I said any gallery would be lucky to have you?”
“Yes.”
“Any woman would be lucky to have you too. Your art extends beyond the canvas.”
“I’d say I bet you say that to all the girls,” Riley said, “But maybe you don’t date a lot of artists.”
“I speak the truth, but you’d be right. I don’t date much of anyone. Job tends to get in the way. Most women don’t understand why I have to keep rushing off in the night or they assume I’m using the job as a cover for cheating.”
“Trust is important. Both ways.”
“Agreed,” Claire said. “How about you? Date much?”
Riley shook her head. “I get to the second or third date before they start asking questions about family. The whole dad’s in prison thing is either a nonstarter or they’re morbidly curious about the details of murder trials and prison life, and they quickly lose interest when they realize I’m an expert at neither.”
“That sucks.”
“It does, but it’s part of my story, for better or worse.” Riley stroked her shoulder. “Right now, I guess you could say I’m reaping the benefits.”
And just like that, Claire’s hesitation disappeared. She set her coffee down and turned into Riley’s arms, ready to resume their electric connection, but a loud buzzing jarred her out of the moment. “Is that—”
Riley reached over to the nightstand and handed over her phone. “It was on the floor this morning. Must’ve fallen out of your pocket during the clothes shedding portion of the evening.”
Claire took it from her hand with a sense of dread that the real world was about to burst their bubble. She was right.
You and Redding. My office. Nine a.m. sharp.
The only other time she’d been ordered to appear before her squad commander, Major Reggie Holland, on short notice, she’d received a commendation, but she knew in her gut this wasn’t that. Shit. She texted Nick to give him a heads-up and told him she’d meet him at the station. When she finished typing, she looked up from her phone. Riley was staring at her with a wistful expression.
“You have to go.”
“I do.”
Riley smiled. “This is when all those other women would bail on you, right?”
“You make it sound like there’s been a whole bunch of other women.” Claire shook her head. “There hasn’t, but yes, that’s the way it usually works.”
Riley leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Let’s change that pattern. You go do your work and I’ll do mine. When we’re both done, let’s find each other and do this,” she motioned to the bed, “again. Okay?”
Claire studied Riley’s face, looking for any sign she was annoyed about her imminent departure, but she saw nothing but kindness and caring, laced with a trace of longing, which was entirely different from the resentment she was used to from other women. “That sounds perfect.”