Voyeur - Lacey Alexander [15]
Then he’d kissed her.
Long and hard and passionate.
Riley felt the kiss everywhere—from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. She knew she should push him away—he was a suspect, not to mention a total stranger—yet she couldn’t find the strength to end the most glorious kiss of her life. His mouth captured hers, leaving her no choice but to submit. The musky scent of him permeated her senses and he tasted vaguely of mint.
When finally the man pulled back—still holding her in his strong embrace but giving her the chance to peer up into his dark, commanding eyes—she thought of everything she should be doing right now: breaking free of his hold, asking him what the hell he was doing in here, finding out just exactly who he was. Yet his smoldering gaze made it hard to think of detective work at the moment, and when she opened her mouth to interrogate him, she instead found herself uttering one lone and telling word. “More.”
The rumble of a large vehicle cut suddenly through Laura’s concentration, forcing her to abandon Riley for the moment. Was someone arriving here? Must be, she presumed, given that the house was located at the end of a long driveway, several hundred feet off the winding mountain road. This was the first vehicle she’d heard since her arrival.
She hopped to her feet, rushed to the door, and glanced out the narrow panel of glass beside it to see a standard-issue white delivery truck. The logo on the door said TRIXIE’S in a rather elaborate script. Trixie’s?
She was waiting to see what on earth was coming to “Flyboy” from a place called “Trixie’s” when she happened to glance down and notice her nipples pointing prominently through her little top. And damn it—she only had on panties below, which she’d totally forgotten about, so caught up had she become in Riley’s sensual encounter.
She dashed for the stairs, jogging toward the master bedroom. Unthinkingly, she shoved open the nearest mirrored closet door and—voilà!—spied a white terry-cloth robe like you sometimes found in hotels. Yanking it from the hanger, she thrust her arms inside.
When the doorbell rang, she started toward it, tying the robe in front on the way down the stairs. She opened the door to find the young man on the other side smiling at her as if they shared a private joke. “Laura Watkins?”
She flinched. She’d been sure this would be something for her voyeur. Who knew she was here?
Wait. Monica, of course. Which made the pieces fit. Trixie’s must be exactly what it sounded like to Laura—some racy lingerie shop. And Monica of the red lace surprise had apparently taken it upon herself to send Laura something else slinky and sexy.
“Yes, that’s me,” she finally said.
He handed her a shiny black box sporting an even shinier thick black ribbon. Predictably, she blushed, since they clearly both knew something designed for sex was inside.
“Thanks,” she murmured, embarrassment overriding any thoughts of a tip, then practically slammed the door in his face, turning the lock. After which she headed to the couch where she had so brazenly touched herself for her stranger last night.
Wow, apparently Monica was downright determined for Laura to see some action on this trip. Dear God, if her friend only knew about the unexpected—not to mention bizarre—action that had occurred.
Not that Monica would ever find out. They were best friends, but something about this felt so immeasurably private that she knew she’d never share it with another soul.
Although it flitted through her mind that another sexy outfit might actually come in handy, under the circumstances.
Maybe.
She let out a sigh. Was she really going to do it for him again?