Ryker (Hope City #6) - Kris Michaels Page 0,54
The woman was erotic sex personified. Her hair spread in a halo across the pillows and sheets, one hand teasing her nipple, the other... Oh hell, she spread her sex with two fingers and stroked herself. He could see his cock glistening from her excitement as he withdrew. Her fingers moved faster, and he kept pace. She arched and tightened around him, her hands slapped the sheets and fisted them seconds before her body gripped him. He let himself go and chased his own release.
It took several long seconds before he opened his eyes. The sight before him was nothing short of heaven. He carefully lowered beside her and moved her to his good side. “I don’t think you’ll ever understand how much I love you.” He kissed the top of her head.
“I think I do. You made my life complete. It was as if I was stumbling in darkness, then finally opened my eyes and the only thing I could see, feel, or imagine was you.” She wiggled closer and shrugged. “That still doesn’t describe it, but...”
He trailed his good hand down her back. “No, it does, it makes perfect sense. You are my everything. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“Let’s hope you never have to find out.” She sighed and then yawned.
He kissed the top of her head again and listened to her breath even out as she drifted to sleep. He stared at the ceiling, terrified. Good things rarely lasted for him. Fate had a way of taking things from him. He tightened his arm around Brie. Fuck fate. He’d allow nothing to take her from him. Ever.
Ryker woke slowly. The sun had just started coming up and Brie had tangled herself around him. It had been a week since they’d shot him. Seven days with no answers and too many questions. He had to take a trip into the city today. Thankfully, he could manipulate his arm and shoulder into a button-down. He’d started physical therapy two days ago, and damn it if he didn’t feel like a blubbering baby by the time the woman finished with him. Her perky attitude added insult to the injury. The ‘You’re doing so good’ and ‘Excellent work, Captain’ were the little PT’s favorite cheers, and they made him realize he’d never cared for the cheerleader type.
He stared through the window and contemplated the day. Terrence was driving him into New York. He could manage the drive, but he deferred to his doctor’s orders. No driving for another two weeks. The doc had a point, not that he’d publicly admit to agreeing with him.
He and Mouse had a lot of ground to cover. She wanted to be free of Peña and Rubio, and he wanted answers. What in the hell would possess Peña to go after him? How could they prove it was in fact Peña who went after him and not one of the many people Ryker had put in jail? His team cleared that logic trail, going back through cases, checking on whereabouts of his previous collars, examining those that had been paroled and recent prison releases. As of this time, the answer was a big, fat no.
Then there was the school of thought that what had occurred was an initiation. Take out one of the big gears in HCPD to earn your way into a gang. The only problem with that line of thinking was that there had been no other attacks against officers in the HCPD, which there would have been if a gang had changed the jump-in process.
Callaway and Forsythe were still working the case, and the geofence had netted the number that called his phone right before the shooting. Unfortunately, it hadn’t pinged against any tower since then. Probably resting at the bottom of a sewer drain or in the landfill without a battery. So, in the absence of any other theory, Peña took centerstage, and Mouse was the only option he had to make sense of what was going on.
His cell vibrated, but he couldn’t reach it. Brie was lying on his good arm and he couldn’t lift his other arm that far yet. Brie jolted awake when he moved. “It’s just my phone.” He watched as awareness descended on her. She sat up and carefully stretched past him, retrieving it. He used his finger to swipe the face of the phone as Brie headed, gloriously naked, into the bathroom. “Terrell.”
“Hey. Do you want to meet me somewhere? I don’t want