“Ariel.” I nudged her back onto the bed and dropped to my knees in front of her. My lips trailed a slow line from the inside of her knee to her core. I’d never thought much about eating a girl out. It was a good way to get a blow job. It was reciprocal. But Ariel, I wanted her. I wanted every bit of her. I wanted to taste her on my fingers, on my lips, and on my tongue.

“You’re so beautiful,” I whispered.

With one long stroke, I licked her slit.

I heard the slap of her hands as she smacked the bed, and I felt her body jerk from the sensations.

“Holy shit,” she cried.

“Shhh, sweet. Lie back.”

But she didn’t lay back, she stayed propped up and watched me as I devoured her. I held her eyes as I swiped my tongue through her soft, pink folds. Her face tightened at the sensation. It was a look I wouldn’t ever forget. The low, desperate sound she made was one I’d make sure to hear again.

“Please. Kayson. I’m gonna . . .”

Her words melted me. The more she begged for me, the harder I sucked, licked, and tugged. Her fingers gripped my head, holding me against her as I found that perfect spot. Once more, I lifted my eyes to meet hers, but her lids were closed and her head was tilted back in pleasure. I felt the moment of her release. Her thighs tightened, her ass rose off the bed, and her knees became weighted.

“Kayson!” she shouted, and my body tingled at the sound of my name escaping her lips.

I nibbled, she pulsed, her body releasing its satisfaction.

Slowly, I ran my tongue over her, easing her back down from the peak of pleasure. This was absolutely, positively the breakfast of champions, and my cock was so hard, it took every bit of my willpower not to strip off my clothes and bury myself deep inside her. I had to remind myself that I was working toward a bigger goal. I looked down at Ariel, satiated, flushed. Her chest rose and fell in little pants, and pride washed over me. I’d wrung this beautiful woman out. Maybe she’d accept my apology for having to leave her last night. A small grin crept across my face . . . maybe I’d apologize again later.

She was still in a lusty daze when I pulled myself to my feet and made my way to the bathroom to catch my breath. If I stayed there, kneeling in front of her with her spread like an offering, I would never have stopped.

Splashing cold water on my face helped, but it didn’t stop the images of Ariel in twenty years, thirty years, and forty years. I wanted all the versions that flashed behind my eyelids. By the time I left her bathroom, I had one creed, and that was that I’d make love to her and it wasn’t going to be a one-time thing.

I made my way to her kitchen and rummaged until I found her coffee and mugs. After I had that started, I riffled through her refrigerator and pulled out bacon, eggs, and cheese.

“That coffee smells like heaven.” Her voice was soft, and I turned to find her standing in the doorway with a wary smile. Her hair was tousled, and she was still wearing that old Crimson Tide T-Shirt that hung mid-thigh.

“I’m making breakfast.”

Wrap it, tap it, and go was the unspoken motto of most law enforcement officers. Relaxing enough to let down our guard and spend the night at a woman’s house took some serious trust, but last night I didn’t consider leaving, not once. Ariel needed me, maybe that was why I loved my job so much, I liked being needed.

Stretching out my arm, I invited her into the crook between my shoulder and chest, shocked and amazed when she took it.

“How are you feeling?”

“Confused.”

“About?” I drew out the last part of the word.

“You. Me. What we’re doing. We barely know each other. You’re in my apartment, in your boxers, cooking breakfast. I woke up after having the hottest dream, and you were there. You . . . took care of me and didn’t ask for anything in return. It’s confusing,” she said, her face turning almost as red as her hair.

“Was it a sex dream?”

She buried her face deeper into my chest. I moved just an inch so I could remove the bacon from the pan.

I felt her nod then mumble against me, “It was hot, you were on your knees.”

“Weird, I had the same fucking dream.”

I brought my mouth down to hers and kissed her deeply. She pushed up onto her tiptoes to kiss me back. If I pushed her back, propped her on the counter, and knelt for round two, she would let me. I didn’t, though. I’d screw this up if I took too much too soon. Ariel claimed she didn’t want a relationship, so I was making it my job to prove her wrong.

“Since you’re in such a good mood, how about doing me a favor?” I asked.

“What?”

“I don’t even know how to explain this, but the night of your attack, left me with this weird feeling as if I was supposed to know you.” Leaning back, I rested my hips against her kitchen counter and continued trying to explain that I already felt something for her without freaking her the fuck out. “When the paramedics shouted they were taking you to ORMC, I called my brother Tristan and asked him to check on you, I was worried about you. Tristan protected your privacy and wouldn’t tell me anything until you gave the all clear for me to come up. Unfortunately, he didn’t feel the same way about protecting my privacy…” God, why was this so fucking hard to ask? “I’m Greek. I told you that, right?” A smile crossed her face. She could tell I was nervous. “Do you see where I’m going with all of this?”

Nodding her head Ariel said, “yes” ––then in a swift sweeping motion she shook her head––“no.”

“Let me try again, come to dinner with me at my parents’ house?” And with those words the smile left her. “Don’t freak. We get together every week. It’s noisy and loud, but the food is always amazing. Plus, my brothers will be there, I saw them talking to you and Stella last week at the Harley event.”

Ariel reluctantly asked, “What would your parents think of me tagging along?”

“Well, I’m Greek and that means there are no secrets. The first thing Tristan did was tell Mana that I asked him to check on you. I had to practically threaten to throw her in jail just to keep her from coming up to the hospital and sitting with you. So, she’d be ecstatic.”

“Mana?”

“Greek for mom. There are always other people joining us. My brothers frequently bring friends, even Carter occasionally comes.” What I wasn’t saying was that none of us had ever brought a girl before. “If you say yes, I could pick you up around four. If not, you can expect an overbearing Greek woman with weeks full of food at your door any day, and she’s hard to get rid of.”

Ariel let out a laugh at the idea. “I’ll come, but I can drive, just give me the address. I want to stop by a florist first. If I’m meeting your mom, I’m not showing up empty handed.”

“Want me to run into Publix and grab some?”

“Uh, no. Flowers from the checkout lane at the grocery store aren’t acceptable.”

“I’ll find us a flower shop.”

“But, I can drive,” she offered again. “Just in case you get called into work.”

And there it was. The hurt she was trying to hide. I pulled her back into my arms and dropped my lips to her ear.

“I really am sorry for having to leave you last night.”

“I believe you.” It didn’t escape my notice that she didn’t say she forgave me.

“If I get called in, I will bring you home first or I’ll give you the keys to my truck.”

There was a brief pause before her body slowly relaxed and then she stepped back.

“Okay.”

It was a small win, but it was still a win. I gave her my most charming smile. “Great. Now eat,” I ordered in a gentle voice and pushed the plate in front of her.

“You aren’t eating with me?”

“No. I have to run to the station and then get some errands done before dinner. I’ll be here at four.”

While I dressed, she ate, and then she walked me out. I stood on the other side of her door and listened as she secured the security chain. The thump of footsteps behind me raised the hairs on the back of my neck, and I turned, expecting someone to be there. The steps and walkway were deserted. I kept my hand on my gun as I made my way to my truck. There wasn’t anyone getting in a vehicle, or walking across the parking lot, but I couldn’t shake the strange feeling that someone had been watching me.

I picked up my phone and called the non-emergency line into the station.

“This is Sergeant Christakos. Let’s put Coconut Bay apartments on signal eighty-seven.”

It would ensure a steady flow of deputies doing an area check through her complex, just in case her attackers knew where she lived. Whoever they were, they hadn’t sexually assaulted her or stolen money, jewelry, or her motorcycle. All signs led me to believe that her attackers knew her and for some reason it was personal.