Also, she’d never seen the point in being inhibited. If a man had shown interest when she had clothes on, he wouldn’t get less interested once her clothes were off. And if he did, that was about him, not her.

But right now, she cared. She really, really wanted to see interest flare in Eli’s eyes. Wanted him to be crazy with desire because she felt that way about him.

Because he wasn’t another naked man, as good as any other. He was the best-looking man she’d ever seen. Because just looking at him got her hotter than twenty minutes of foreplay with any of her exes. So it felt much more important that he find her more than passable.

She watched him closely, watched the color across his cheekbones heighten, watched his chest pitch with hard breath, his hands clenched into fists at his sides.

It was safe to say she had a captive audience.

She arched her back and reached behind her, putting her hands on her bra clasp and carefully separating the hooks and eyes before letting the garment drop to the floor, her black lace flag of surrender.

He kept his gaze on hers. He didn’t look down at her breasts, not right away, and for some reason, that was unspeakably hot. Watching the tension increase in his frame, watching his dark eyes burning with heat, determinedly fixed on her face.

She smiled. “Are you trying to earn an award for not being too obvious?” she asked, sliding one hand up her stomach, just beneath the curve of one breast, before drawing her fingertips over her nipple, a small gasp escaping her lips.

That broke his concentration.

His eyes dropped then and she ran her hand over her other breast, pausing to tease the tightened bud. His jaw was clenched tight, his arousal pushing aggressively against the zipper of his pants.

Oh, yes, she had nothing to worry about.

“You aren’t done,” he bit out.

“Am I not?” she asked, stilling her hands and glancing at him, trying to look innocent. Knowing she was failing, because she wasn’t innocent at all. She was a woman who knew exactly what she wanted. And she knew how to get it.

Knew she was going to get it.

“The rest,” he said, the words a hard command that sent a shiver through her.

She pressed her palms against her body and slid her hands down to the waistband of her panties. Then she pushed her fingers below the lace, in the front, cupping herself as she pushed them down, watching as his breathing increased, the pulse beating so hard in his neck she could see it.

She shoved them down her legs and kicked them to the side, leaving one hand where it was, sliding her fingertip over her clit. She gasped, white-hot pleasure firing through her. She was a whole lot more sensitive than she expected to be. But a day of anticipation, combined with how it felt to have his attention, was a hell of a lot more intoxicating than she’d anticipated.

“I’m wet,” she said. “If you were curious.”

“Bedroom,” he said. “Now.”

She turned away from him and walked slowly through the house, through the living room, casting a quick glance at Toby, who was still asleep, because obviously he couldn’t be bothered to care about humans and their shenanigans.

She could hear Eli’s heavy footsteps behind her. And she fought the urge to look back. But not looking was so much better than looking. Feeling his hot gaze on her without seeing him. Knowing he was watching her butt as she walked. That he was as tense with need as she was.

She led him to her bedroom. “Watch your step,” she said, taking the small stair that dropped down at the entrance to the room.

She heard his boot hit the carpet behind her and she turned, her heart kicking hard against her breastbone as she looked at him.

“Can you close the door?” she asked.

“Why?”

“Trying to avoid Cattus Interruptus,” she said.

“Right.” He turned and shut the door behind them, setting the bag, which she assumed contained contraception, on the dresser. “This is another point in favor of keeping animals outside,” he said.

“Yeah, yeah. Your anti-cat platform has no momentum here, might as well drop it. And while you’re at it, drop your pants, Sheriff.”

“Deputy sheriff.”

“Why is that hot?” she asked, sitting on the edge of the bed and leaning back, propping herself up with her elbows. “Why is you being obnoxiously pedantic sexy? I don’t even get it.”

“Hell if I know.”

“I mean, I know why the rest of you is sexy. Dayum.”

He smiled as his hands went to his shirt collar. “Sorry about this,” he said, tugging his tie from his shirt collar in one easy snap, the whole thing intact.

“Clip-on?” she asked.

“Standard issue. You can’t take it off without looking like an idiot.”

“All right, I’ll let the tie go. But only because I’m already naked over here. And very, very horny.”

“Points for me,” he said, setting the tie on the edge of her vanity. Then he moved his hands to the first button on his shirt and released it, undoing it quickly, revealing a plain T-shirt the same color as his uniform underneath. “This is less of a strip show than bachelorette parties might have led you to believe,” he said. “Didn’t have time to go home and change.”

“Are you embarrassed?” she asked.

He stilled with his hands on his belt. “No. But you went to a lot of... You had on matching underwear.”

She nodded. “I did, it’s true. But I am way less interested in your clothes than I am in the removal of them. So carry on.”

He undid his belt and shrugged the tan T-shirt over his head. Beneath that was a thin black vest. Kevlar, she assumed. And something hit her in the stomach, a sharp pang. A realization of who he was and what it was he did on a whole new level. He wasn’t just a man who cared about his town. He was a man who put his life on the line. He was a man who backed up his word.

And tonight? He was all hers.

He took the vest off, laying it neatly with everything else.

“Oh, yesss,” she said, the breath hissing through her teeth. “That’s what I’m here to see.”

He looked at her, one dark brow arched.

“What?” she asked. “Women don’t usually sing the praises of your body?”

“In my experience, it’s expected for me to sing the praises of theirs.” He turned to face her, working at the clasp on his pants, the muscles in his chest shifting, his abs rippling with the motion.

“Well, by all means, sing my praises. But it has to be said that you are one hell of a man.”

He shoved his pants down and proved her point and then some, his erection thick and enticing and, right now, just for her. He folded his pants carefully on top of the rest of his clothes.

“Come here,” she said.