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Justice was almost eye level with me, but Riley is tall and damn if that isn’t even more of a turn-on.
I mean to move away but instead I just stand there, letting him hold me, liking it more than I should allow.
Riley’s thumbs make small circles on my hip bones. The light, soothing touch causes my core to clench. To my horror, I let out a shaky breath.
Riley’s gaze drops to my breasts, and he observes my faster rising chest.
My core clenches more. What is wrong with me? I never responded like this to Justice.
“Riley?” His name leaves my lips with a breath.
His gaze rises to my mouth and then to my eyes. For a second, he seems confused by my reaction, like he can’t believe it. I can’t either. How can such an innocent moment be so erotic? Am I that desperate for a man’s attention, or is it just Riley’s attention?
One of the kittens meows over and over again. The soft cry tugs at my heart. I glance down to see Itty-bitty staring at us as she meows.
“We’re starving them.” I rush away in the direction of the kitchen.
A chuckle sounds from Riley.
He follows me and gets the food while I get the bowl. I set it on the floor and Riley pours in the food.
The sound of tiny pellets or maybe the smell draws the kittens’ interest. In case they don’t know where to go, I grab two of them—Poppy and Vizzini—and set them by the food. Riley gets Itty-bitty, who’s halfway to the kitchen. He pets her head as he carries her to the bowl. When he sets her down, she digs in, along with Poppy and Vizzini.
Quickly, I fill another bowl with water and place it near the food. “Here you go. You’re probably thirsty, too.”
“So this is what it’s like to have pets,” Riley murmurs.
“Did you not have pets growing up?” I lean against the marble counter.
“We borrowed the groundskeeper’s dog for family photos to make us look wholesome. That was as close as I got to owning a pet.” He scratches his chest, drawing all my attention there.
“Do you want your shirt?” I don’t wait for a response and head to the couch to snatch it from the floor.
Riley takes it from me. “Thanks.” He seems confused, rightly so.
I don’t want him to cover himself up; I need him to.
He pulls on his shirt, and I shamelessly watch his muscles contract as he moves.
“Excuse me.” I race to the bathroom to chill out and empty my bladder. After brushing my teeth and washing my face, I return to the family room.
Riley stands by the counter, watching the kittens eat and drink.
“You don’t have to stay here and babysit,” I blurt so he knows it isn’t his duty to be here.
His navy blues narrow with confusion.
“I just mean, you’re not a prisoner. It was my idea to adopt the kittens. I’d hate for you to feel like you can’t come and go as you please. You’re not trapped here.” I give a small smile and lift one shoulder.
He lets out a humorless laugh. “Actually, I am. But it’s not because of you or the kittens.”
I inch closer to the kitchen. “Want to talk about it?”
“Not really.” He glances toward his bedroom. “I’ll be right back.”
I nod and set up the litter box for the kittens. I should have done this last night. Well, if there are any accidents in the room, I’ll just clean them up and make sure the kittens know this is where they go to the bathroom.
Riley returns to the room. His hair is a little damp, like he washed his face.