Free All Over You (All Falls Down #3) by Ayden K Morgen

gone.
     

 
    chapter six
    black widow
     
     
     
    "I'm coming!" I yell, stumbling through my apartment while rubbing my eyes. It's barely even light outside, and I tossed and turned all night, my mind refusing to shut off and stop analyzing what happened between me and Detective Lewis before he walked away yesterday afternoon. I replayed the scene a thousand times after he left, becoming more and more aroused each time. Nothing helped ease the ache.
    Why did he walk away?
    Why did he kiss me in the first place?
    I don't know the answer to either of those questions and they're driving me insane.
    The loud rapping on the door comes again as I unlatch the chain.
    "Hold your freaking horses!" I shout, irritated to be woken up when I only just fell asleep a couple of hours ago.
    Whoever is on the other side of the door stops pounding long enough for me to unlock the deadbolt and fling it open.
    "Morning," Detective Lewis says, leaning against the doorjamb with a cup of coffee in each hand and a smirk on his face. He's dressed casually today, in jeans and a dark t-shirt. His tattoos once again peek from beneath his sleeves. He's foregone shaving. The scruff on his face makes him even hotter than usual. He's all rough and rugged, and what is he doing here?
    "What are you doing here?"
    He throws his head back and laughs at me, the wicked sound making my belly flip.
    His laugh is incredible.
    Before I can decide if I'm offended he's laughing at me, confused that he's here, or happy to see him again, he straightens up and holds out a cup of coffee like a peace offering.
    "Wasn't sure how you take it," he says, his hungry gaze running up and down my body. Desire flares in his eyes as he takes in my tank top and tiny shorts, turning them that same dark, stormy gray from yesterday. "But I'm thinking you got about as much sleep as I did last night, so it's strong."
    I take the proffered coffee, gaping at him.
    "You gonna invite me in?" He cocks a brow at me, smirking again.
    "Didn't think I needed to," I grumble, lifting the cup to my nose and inhaling the rich scent. "You didn't wait around for an invite yesterday."
    He narrows his eyes on me, clearly not amused by the sarcastic edge to my comment, but I'm not nearly awake enough to heed the warning inherent in that look.
    "Sure, Detective Lewis," I enthuse loudly, holding the door open wide for him and rolling my eyes. "Come on in."
    He steps inside, crowding me even though there's plenty of room for him to go around me. My nipples immediately pucker as his scent wraps around me. God, why does he have to smell so divine? I can't deal with him smelling that good this early in the morning, especially not with those tattoos on display.
    He crowds closer, until he's right up in my personal space, his breath washing across the side of my neck. "Dreamed about that smart mouth all night," he mutters right beside my ear. "So don't fuck with me if you don't want me giving you something to fill it with, kitten."
    Jesus. That mouth. That filthy, sexy mouth.
    A shiver rolls down my spine, and a little whimper escapes my lips.
    He hums as if he's satisfied by my reaction and steps away, giving me room to pull the door closed. I take a moment to turn the deadbolt, trying to marshal my thoughts before I face him again.
    What is he doing here?
    And why is he so fascinated with my mouth and filling it?
    "Nice place," he murmurs when I turn to face him.
    I just stand there, inhaling the scent of fresh, hot coffee and watching him over the rim of the cup as he takes in my space. My apartment isn't large by any means and I can't exactly afford designer anything, but I'm proud of what I've managed to do with the place. While small, the living room is inviting, the large windows covered with thick curtains I keep flung wide open most of the year, allowing natural light to flood into the room. The dark furniture is deep and comfortable, the carpeting plush. Photographs of me and Erin, my family, and a few