Chapter Seven
Zane drummed his fingersagainst his leg, while he waited for Riley to answer the door. It was a good bet she was home. Her car was in the parking lot, and they were meeting Kenzie for dinner in a couple hours.
He told Riley he’d stop by early so they could just hang out for a little while. Still, no response to the doorbell or his knocking.
He hated to see her hurt, and it was worse when he knew he caused it—like the hurt reflected on her face after they left the bar two nights ago, when he couldn’t bring himself to open up.
He was grateful she didn’t push him, though. He’d made so many bad decisions while he was deployed, like every time he chose a challenge over what he knew was right.
Knock a third time, or call her? Oh, right. He grabbed his keyring. This would take some getting used to.
He pushed into the condo and locked the door behind himself. A movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention, and he spun toward the kitchen. Riley sat at the table, sketchbook in front of her. With her earphones in, she was oblivious to the world.
He followed the curve of her body, from toes against the floor, up her bare leg, to where her thigh rested on the foot tucked beneath her. She wore a button-down shirt with only the middle two buttons done up, and possibly nothing else. Her half-dry hair hung around her face, as though she’d gotten out of the shower and forgotten to finish dressing.
She shifted her weight, and her shirt pulled open at the top, revealing a round, firm breast. His blood pressure kicked up a notch, and his cock throbbed. Her offer from the other night rushed back to him, taunting as it had so many times over the past few days. Fuck, she was tempting. Inspiration flushed her cheeks, and though she was half-exposed, she was still statuesque. Her focus made her that much sexier.
He really shouldn’t be staring. He adjusted his jeans, doing his best to hide his reaction, and knelt next to her. She hadn’t brought up the casual sex offer again. He’d have a hard time turning it down if she did. It was hard enough not bringing it up himself.
She had on more than just the shirt after all, though the plaid men’s boxers peeking out from underneath did nothing to relieve the insistent throb below his waist. He ignored his arousal and rested a hand on her arm.
She almost jumped out of the chair, before she focused on him. Her hand flew to her chest, tugging her shirt farther open and offering an amazing view of her sun-darkened skin. “Holy shit. You scared the hell out of me.”
He forced his gaze to her face, unable to hide a smile at her reaction. “Sorry.”
“No, you’re not.” She tucked her legs under her again, covering more of her body with the shirt.
Not that the gesture did anything to stop the teasing images racing through his thoughts. “I kind of am.”
“Sit next to me.” She tugged him to his feet.
He dropped into a second padded chair, trying to be subtle about adjusting himself again. A tiny smile still danced on her lips. Was it because he wasn’t succeeding at all in hiding his erection, or because she was still half-lost in her drawing? She gave him one last glance before turning back to her work. “How’d the interview go?”
His arousal limped away at the single question. “Not as well as I hoped.” He hadn’t even made it past the company’s screening process, thanks to his lack of a degree or civilian experience. Those weren’t the words used, but he heard it in the interviewer’s voice over the phone and the way the conversation all but died when Zane mentioned his only experience with network security had been overseas for the military.
“I’m sorry,” Riley said.
So was he. He also wanted to talk about anything else. He pulled her sketchpad toward him.
Wow. Awe raced through him. It was the character she said was based on him, with a wiry man kneeling in front of him. And both of them were naked. She hadn’t told him she was drawingyaoi—male-on-male graphic novel pornography. “You drew another guy sucking me off?”
She let out a short laugh. “Since when are you a prude? Besides, it’s not you. It’s a drawing that happens to be built like you. I already told you that.”
He should be offended or something, but the tease on her full lips, and that she’d drawn him naked in a compromising position—even if it wasn’t one he was into—made his pulse race again. “I just don’t get it. Why do some girls get off on two good looking guys groping each other?”
“I’m not getting off on it. And you’re better? You’ve never fantasized about two women together?” She already knew the answer. She’d described for him over chat, at least half a dozen times, her making out with another girl.