Feels Like Home (Southern Bride 5)

Holy. Mother. Of. God.

I was pretty sure my panties were soaked. Every inch of my body instantly felt hot, and I was positive if he were to simply touch me, I’d have an orgasm on the spot.

Poor Mindy. Now I knew how she felt.

Anson held up a matching white lace bra, which I promptly took from him and then looked into the box. A look of utter disappointment moved over his face.

“No stockings?” I asked, my voice not even sounding like my own. I could hear the way it slightly shook.

He slowly dropped the box and looked at me.

“I totally said that fantasy out loud, didn’t I?”

I felt my throat bob with difficulty as I attempted to swallow. Somehow, I managed to speak.

“You did.” I was mortified that he was holding that lingerie, but equally turned on. I was a serious rollercoaster of emotions.

Anson turned his whole body to face me. Those blue eyes of his were suddenly dark with desire. A look I had seen a hundred times. A look I hadn’t realized how much I had missed seeing over the past six years.

He was going to kiss me again, and I knew I didn’t have the strength to resist him.

Anson leaned in closer to me as his eyes drifted down to my mouth. He licked his lips, and I wasn’t sure if I moaned in my head or if I really moaned out loud. I felt my body move toward him.

“Bri.”

That one whispered word was my undoing. I took the last step toward him to bridge the gap. He cupped my face, and I prepared myself for what would happen next. This was wrong. So wrong. We hadn’t talked about anything, and there was so much to talk about.

So. Much.

But now was not the time for words, only action.

Before his lips met mine, my cell phone rang, and we both jumped back. Almost as if it had snapped us both out of the lust-induced trance we had been in.

“Your phone is ringing,” Anson said.

I nodded, then looked down at it and back up at him. “It’s my mother.”

With a deep breath to calm my racing heart, I answered.

“Hey, Mom.”

“Oh, I wasn’t figuring you would answer.”

With a frown, I asked, “Why not?”

“You’re out to dinner with Annie! How’s it going?”

“We never made it to dinner, at least not with Annie. It’s a long story, and I’ll tell you tomorrow.”

“Oh, dear, that doesn’t sound good. Is everything…okay?”

My eyes flashed over to see Anson pulling off his boots. When he started to unbutton his shirt, I nearly dropped my cell phone on the floor.

What in the hell is he doing?

“Um…” It was the only thing I could say. My brain physically wasn’t working as I watched him take off his shirt. Then his jeans. He was left wearing a pair of boxer briefs. I swayed slightly as I took in his very toned and very muscular body.

Heaven above help me.

Anson headed toward the bedroom, his robe in his hands.

“Bristol?”

“Mom, I need to go. I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Love you!”

I hung up before she even replied.

“What are you doing?” I nearly shouted.

Anson paused, then turned to face me. “I’m going to take a shower.”

My mouth dropped open. “What is that?”

“It’s this thing where you step into a stream of water, usually warm to hot in temperature, but I’m afraid mine is gonna have to be cold this evening.”

For a moment, I lost my sanity and looked directly at his junk. I jerked my gaze back up and bit my lip as he went on.

“Then you take soap and wash your whole body off.”

“Shut up, Anson!”

He lifted his hands and laughed. God, I loved his laugh.

Don’t jump him, Bristol. Do. Not. Jump. Him.

“Hey, you asked me what it was.”

“I didn’t mean that! I mean what is that you’re holding?”

He lifted up the robe and then shrugged. “It’s called a robe. You—”

I walked up to him and jerked it out of his hands. “You know what I’m trying to say.”

Anson shook his head and laughed. “Honestly, Bri, I have no fucking clue what you’re trying to say.”

“Why are you bringing the robe into the bathroom to shower?”

A smile so devilish it made my insides shake spread slowly over his face. “If you’re down for me being naked, I’m happy to ditch the robe. Are you wearing the little nightie?”

“No! I am not.”

“Ah, going naked, then, are you?”

I sighed and then punched him on the shoulder. “Go get the bag in the truck.”

He looked surprised for a moment. “The bag?”

“Yes, don’t tell me you don’t still carry a gym bag with you wherever you go. I know you, Anson Meyer.”

His face pulled back in surprise. “Damn, you do know me. I can’t believe you remembered that I always carry a change of clothes with me.”