Page 15 of Seduced By the Billionaire
No, that was too risky. Besides, when they’d left the club, Jason was still on the floor, and… huh. Was he still there? Was going back to The Velvet Cage a viable option? She could pretend she’d left something in her locker. She just needed two seconds to flash the phone at his face.
Juliette made her way to the window and tugged the edge of the curtain aside again, just enough to peek out into the lot. The detective was still there. Standing outside his car now, hip leaned against the driver’s side door, shoulders even broader in the deep shadows, his cheekbones sharper, his jaw all the more defined. Strong—so fucking strong.
Her heart stuttered. An achy throb pulsed between her legs.
She had not felt this with Jason. Hadn’t felt this with any man in a decade—she’d been dead from the waist down since the second year of her marriage to Daniel. But this man, this dirty-cop detective…
He’d never once tried to touch her. He’d never tried to touch any of the girls at the club—he protected them, went after someone on Shonda’s behalf without asking for anything in return. He’d protected her tonight, too, kept her bloody fingers to himself.
I just want to help.
He cocked his head. Then he raised his hand in a one-second wave that was half salute.
She dropped the curtain and jerked back. He’d caught her looking at him—just her eyeball between the fabric panels, but how long had she been staring? Shit.
Either way, she could not return to the crime scene tonight—that had been a dumb idea, far too suspicious. She wasn’t in the right frame of mind to guess at the code, either. All she wanted was to go out into the lot, invite Ronan in. Which was absurd.
She leaned her head against the wall, her heart vibrating in her lower belly. Butterflies in her stomach, in her chest—fluttering their gauzy wings against the hot, wet center of her body. She could feel him, too, the way his hand had chastely brushed the back of her elbow as he guided her from the club and into the parking lot. How he’d stood so close to her—comforting, not possessive.
He’d made her feel safe despite the fact that someone she knew had just been murdered mere feet from her. She had barely studied the shadows at all as he drove her home.
But it was more than that. It was the way he’d been looking at her for months. As if she was a person—a real person worth caring about. As if he wanted to be… close to her.
Juliette swallowed hard. She grabbed the cell and shoved it beneath the mattress. Then she stepped in front of the curtains before she could second-guess herself, the chill air brushing her bare flesh. And drew them wide.
He pushed himself off the car, eyes trained on her—on her body.
What are you doing? one side of her brain screamed at her. Was she seducing him to keep an edge in this investigation—hedging her bets? Was she losing her grip after watching a man bleed out on the tile—a man she knew? Was she just lonely, desperate for some kind of physical touch? Was she literally insane? Did she need a release or even a distraction after the intense stress of Jason’s murder? Maybe she was in shock.
But the other side of her brain didn’t care about the reasons. Come in and fuck me. Come in and keep the monsters away by being just as dangerous.
But she didn’t expect him to. The man was a voyeur. Always had been.
Ronan remained standing beside the car, stock-still in the shadows at the back of the lot. No one else around. There was no one else in the entire universe, just this gorgeous man, with his gaze locked on her.
She drew her left fingertips over each nipple, in turn, the way she’d seen the dancers do a million times—teasing them into hard points. She slipped her right hand between her legs, her hips just above the windowsill.
Was this… sexy? Or was she making a fool of herself?
Please let it be sexy. Please don’t let him reject me.
But he should reject her—she was a witness. Maybe an accomplice. There were police department rules against that. The mere fact that he was ignoring them, risking his job for her—that she was worth the risk—made her skin shimmer with tingling heat.
Ronan took a step nearer, and her chest locked up. Was he actually coming inside? Maybe he was coming to arrest her. But then he dragged his gaze around the lot—the mostly empty lot—peering extra hard at the other motel windows. He stopped at the hood of his car and eased himself down against the grill. Giving her his full attention.
The look on his face shot electricity through her veins. She spread her pussy with her fingers, her other hand tugging at her nipples. Already so wet. She slipped two fingers inside, then drew them to her mouth, sucking her juices from her skin.
Ronan’s fists clenched against his knees. But his face remained stoic, watching her as if she were the most gorgeous creature that ever existed. The desire in his eyes—his desire for her—was the sexiest thing she’d ever seen.
She was sure that was what it was now: desire. It wasn’t wishful thinking. And he was no actor. This dangerous man, the one who’d let her wash her bloody hands, who had taken care of her after a murder… he wanted her. Badly.
She swung her hips, left then right, in a sultry dance, the way Desire had earlier. A moan hissed from between her lips when she brushed the tender nub at her center. Circling her clit exactly the way she liked, the way no one else had done for her—around and around until every nerve ending was buzzing.
Do you like that, Detective?
Ronan licked his lips but otherwise remained perfectly still, watching as she flicked that sensitive pearl, faster, faster, faster, rolling her nipple between her thumb and forefinger. Liquid heat surged through her veins, her breath a hissed staccato pant.
She could feel what it might be like to straddle him—to take him into her, to let him thrust his cock deep inside her cunt, her pussy stretching to accommodate him. She could feel his fingers gripping her ass. Hear his low grumbled moans as he fucked her.
