Free Ricochet by Skye Jordan Page B

underwear now.” He moved his hand back up her leg and under the hem of his shirt to her thigh. “Before the food gets here.”
    She stretched her leg forward, giving him more skin to grope, and covered his hand with hers. It was so small, so perfect compared to his big, scarred one. Her nails were mid-length, manicured, and unpainted. Nothing like the long, blood red, fluorescent orange, or sparkling purple nails of the last three women he’d fucked in New Orleans.
    “You’re not naked,” she said.
    “First things first.” He pushed up onto his elbows, hooked a finger into her panties at each hip, and tugged. They slid low, showing the neat dark strip of hair down the middle of her pussy. “Jesus, you make my mouth go dry.”
    She bit her lip with a sexy smile as her panties passed her silky thighs, her toned calves, her pretty little feet. Then she curled back into the shirt.
    He pulled her foot out again by her toes, making her laugh, then stroked her leg until she relaxed. With his chin in his other hand, he met her eyes. “Tell me about Rachel. Your job is pretty, I don’t know, unusual. A beautiful woman, working around all those hunky guys, rich actors, powerful producers. You’ve got to have men after you all the time. What possessed you to pick up a nobody like me at a bar?”
    Her smile disappeared, and a frown of disapproval created a crease between her slim brows. “Nobody is better than anyone else,” she said, voice soft. “Especially not based on fame or money or power or looks.”
    Huh. Hit a nerve.
    He massaged her instep with his thumb. “What about the guys you work with. You may think of them as brothers, but I can promise you, from a guy’s perspective, they don’t think of you as a sister. You’re way too sexy.”
    Her frown eased into a smirk. “I don’t mix work and sex. Period. My job is hard enough as it is.”
    His chest decompressed, but he had to be sure. “I don’t get how a hot little thing like you is unattached. Did you just get out of a relationship?”
    “Not just. It’s been a while. And I like it this way. I’m busy, my life is complicated, full. I don’t have room for anything permanent or demanding.”
    She almost couldn’t be any more perfect. One last clarification… “And the last relationship, it wasn’t with one of the guys you work with?”
    “No.” She laughed and gave him a what-is-your-issue look. “I am very capable of drawing a hard friendship-only line. Of course”—she grinned—“my boss’s ‘Hands off Rachel’ policy is also helpful.”
    Ryker chuckled and refrained from punching his fist in the air. “Smart boss. Nothing would get done if they were fantasizing about you all the time.”
    “Oh, Nathan,” she sighed. “You haven’t been in LA long. After a few days, you’ll realize this part of the country is wall-to-wall glamour. And, honey, you will have those hotties flocking to you by noon tomorrow. I’m lucky I caught your eye before they did.”
    Her fingers sank deeper into his hair, and her head lowered, resting against his. The gesture made the last bit of tension drain from Ryker’s shoulders. Made his eyes slide closed. But whatever connection they’d made in this short time created an uneasy ache in his chest too. One too similar to the loneliness he’d suffered since his men had been killed. One that made him a little edgy. A little desperate.
    He turned his head and kissed her mouth. She hummed in pleasure, her lips sliding easily along his. That was all it took to haze the unease. But it wasn’t enough. He needed to keep it away.
    Ryker hooked a hand around her neck to keep their mouths fused and rolled to his back. A little moan slipped from her throat as her tongue stroked his. Fire erupted immediately. And now that fire was mixed with the gasoline of some dark emotion he needed to burn out.
    Kneeling above his head now, Rachel’s hands slid down his chest, his abdomen, then back up to his chest, and a