Drained (Edgars Family #6) - Suzanne Ferrell Page 0,82
closed the distance between them, cupping the side of her face with his big, warm hand. “I know that. But I also know we’ve been searching for a very smart, organized killer. More than likely, we’ve either seen him in passing or even talked with him. So, I’m not leaving you alone until he’s caught.” He leaned forward and kissed her softly, withdrawing before the little spark of heat between them could flame into something more. He stared down at her with those green-grey eyes that reminded her of a spruce Christmas tree. “Nothing else is going to happen between us tonight that you don’t want to happen. If that means I sleep on your amazingly comfortable couch again, I’m fine with that. You are in total control. Got it?”
Her heart pounding, a lump in her throat and her mouth suddenly dry, all she could do was nod.
“Good. Now, I have to get this little guy outside before he busts a kidney on your kitchen floor.”
She looked down to see Stanley patiently sitting between their feet, his little tail wagging. Seeing the hopeful look in his big brown eyes beneath the crazy hair sticking up in all directions, she relaxed and let out a little laugh.
“Okay, you guys go visit the bushes in the backyard. I’m going to have a glass of wine.” She lifted one brow at Aaron. “Do you want one?”
“Red?” he asked.
“I’ve got some.”
“Come on, boy,” he said, tugging on Stanley’s leash and grabbing the umbrella she kept hanging on a hook by the garage door.
As the pair exited the kitchen for her backyard, she pulled down two wine glasses from her cabinet then leaned against her counter with her elbows locked and inhaled deeply, then slowly exhaled. It had been a long time since she’d been intimate with a man.
Three years, four months and twenty-two days.
She’d grown quite comfortable with her own company and used to the idea that she didn’t need a man or sex to make her complete. An idea that would’ve been unfathomable to her former self.
So, what was this about tonight? Was she relapsing into that old insecure woman? One who manipulated men with sex to take care of her, to use them to give her a sense of self-worth?
Giving herself a shake, she looked through her wine selections. She’d started collecting them a number of years ago when she’d dated a huge wine connoisseur. The guy spent tons of money on expensive wines, but he did teach her about different kinds, how to tell a good one, and she managed to find some she liked.
So, for this night she chose one of her favorites—a Smith and Hook Cabernet Sauvignon. It had a bit of a cocoa and blackberry taste to it, two of her favorite things. She opened the bottle to let it air a moment before pouring two glasses, not too full but definitely enough to make them take the time to savor it. Her nerves were jittery, and she needed to relax.
You are in total control.
Aaron wasn’t being manipulated. He was also not trying to dominate her, unlike almost every man she’d known before. He’d made his desire for her—her, not just her body, but her the person inside—obvious by his touch, his kisses, the rather impressive erection she’d felt pressed up against her when he held her. Without a doubt the man wanted her.
He also respected her. From the moment they’d started this investigation, he’d kept her part of it. When she’d wanted to go find Paula, he could’ve gone all He-man on her and told her she had no business going to that part of town and he’d go take care of it. Instead, he’d included her in every aspect of finding and caring for her friend, securing Art’s crime scene, and identifying Mia. More than once he’d let her take the lead in the questioning of not only her friend, but the other homeless people and volunteers they’d spoken to.
And tonight, he was giving her the choice if they stepped over the line they’d been tightrope walking into intimacy, or continued as friends dancing around the sexual arousal their nearness seemed to intensify.
Was she ready? Could she change the dynamic rapport they’d developed? Did she want to? Would it make things awkward between them? Or, would it become something deeper, something stronger?
Before she could contemplate those questions any further, the backdoor opened and in came the wet duo.
“You wouldn’t happen to have a towel?” Aaron asked.