A/N: Things start to get a bit steamy towards the end of this update!

Ryker opened the door, behind which was a narrow staircase leading to Emmie's second story apartment. He had insisted that she go up first so that he could watch one of her finest qualities sway back and forth under her tight black workpants as she made her way upstairs.

"Are you looking at my butt?"

"Are you pretending you don't like it?"

At the landing, she turned to peer down at him. Dim light from the stairway's sole bulb was just enough for Ryker to see the feuding emotions of surprise and annoyance battle it at the corners of her lips. "I'm not proud that I'm flattered, and I'm choosing to be offended on principle. Do you ever see a woman as more than just an object?"

Now he was the one to be offended. "I'm not a misogynist, despite what you might think. But I am a man with the desires men have. And I find you desirable; including but not limited to that round, sensuous derriere of yours. In fact, I rather liked it when you turned so that I can see the front of you as well. You're a sexy woman all around, Emmie. I refuse to believe there's anything wrong with me expressing that, especially now that we've agreed to this arrangement of ours. Are we or are we not on the same page here?"

Without saying anything, she turned to climb the remaining stairs. He'd observed the way her eyes shifted when he'd spoke—not the wide-eyed stare he'd noted this morning, but a subtler change, as though her eyelids had grown unaccountably heavy. It was a look that he could only interpret to be one of awakening lust.

She hadn't answered his question. Were they on the same page? He'd meant to glean more with his question than just the confirmation that they were both willing to do this without forming any sort of attachment to each other. She was hiding something, he was certain of it.

How could they possibly claim equal footing if she was holding something back? Not that they had to tell each other their deepest, darkest secrets; the whole point of this arrangement was for them to have sex without complications. Secrets revealed would only muddle things, but secrets withheld could do the same. And if those secrets had anything to do with him (and how could they not?), then this might very easily end in disaster.

Perhaps he should call this off. It was a bad idea to enter into any sort of arrangement with someone he couldn't trust. The mere suggestion of distrust brought Carin to mind. Cold calculating Carin, who had seemed nothing but warm and unassuming when they'd first met. She'd been at a party in Seattle hosted by a mutual friend on a New Year's Eve, not long after MechaJames had begun to take off. Her thick tangle of black hair and the way it swooped against the curve of her back had immediately caught his eye.

She'd chatted innocently with him about a number of inconsequential topics—their tastes in music, the never ending rain of the Pacific Northwest (she was from Reno and had yet to get used to the change in climate), what the weather did to her hair, and her propensity towards dogs small enough to fit in purses. She had a purse dog with her that night, in fact. Giles, she called him. Giles was the only thing Ryker still missed about their relationship. That yippy little bark of his coupled with Giles' madly waving tale whenever Ryker came home had been an unexpected pleasantry in his life.

Carin, along with her little dog, won him over the first night they'd met. He'd had no caution back then and had foolishly assumed they were playing on equal footing emerging from mutual attraction and respect. Later on, when he'd learned how orchestrated Carin's actions had been, how she had learned he was going to be at that party and had purposely bumped up against him so that wine spilled down the front of her dress; how this had caused him to apologize for something she had done, thereby immediately giving her the upper hand...

If only that had been the extent of her deception, Giles tiny little yips would still be waking him in the morning, and Carin's dark sweep of hair would still be tangling itself around him along with her long limbs.

The deception had been far deeper though, and now, he had to admit, Carin's appeal had nothing on that of the woman he was following up to her apartment.

While he was lost in these thoughts, they had both reached the top of the stairs and entered Emmie's living room, small and functional with a minimal amount of nondescript furniture. The walls were bare; everything seemed devoid of a personal touch. He'd expected a certain amount of just-moved-in clutter accented with colorful splashes of books and crocheted throws. This sterile, generic environment didn't suit Emmie at all.

She followed his gaze as it made its way around the room. "My... my stuff hasn't all arrived yet. Shipping mistake."

"Where did you say you were from again?"

"I don't believe I did say."

There was that coy girl again. Arousing, but also aggravating. "Look, Emmie, I don't..."

Emmie threw her jacket on the couch and lifted her sweater over her head. A tight t-shirt remained, accentuating pert breasts. The t-shirt was threadbare, leaving little to the imagination. Before long, even that had been removed. Ryker's train of thought departed the station without him. Had there been something pressing he needed to say?

His phone chimed. With regret, he tore his gaze from Emmie's lacy bra to see who was calling. Work, of course.

"Who's that?" She kicked off her boots and took several steps towards him.

He turned off his phone. "No one that matters right now."

Emmie laughed. "Don't you have a technology company to run? I can't believe you're able to spare the time to be here with me."

"The key to being a good leader is to have skilled people under you."

She raised an eyebrow. "Is that where you like having skilled people? Under you?"

Again she stepped towards him. One more step and she would be right up against him. There'd be no turning back.

"I have skills—skills I'm sure I could put to work for you. So is that where you want me, Ryker? Under you?" She bit her lower lip, her eyes in full on lust mode now.

Good Lord, he wanted her under him, over him, all over him. Wherever he could get her to be. If having her was a bad idea, he would deal with the consequences later. Right now, there was a gorgeous, half-naked woman standing in front of him offering to pleasure him however he wished. It would be insanity to walk away from that. He was more turned on by her than he could remember being by a woman in a long time, maybe ever. That fact alone should have raised a red flag. But he was beyond red flags, beyond rational thinking. An intense, carnal heat consumed him.

The last step taken to fill the space between them was made by him.

A/N: Things between Emmie and Ryker are just starting to heat up, so naturally... I'm going to make you wait a whole week to get to the good stuff. #sorrynotsorry I hope once next Friday rolls around that you'll feel it was worth the wait!

Today's votes will go to hire a lawyer specializing in fur-baby custody. Ryker is still hoping to work out joint custody of Giles. Let's help the poor guy out and at least get him visitation rights!

Our dedicatee today is and0831 for giving me some wonderful casting suggestions for the role of Emmie.