Clearly I was that type of person around Blake.
He pulled into the parking lot of Magnolia Café and slipped easily into a spot. I focused straight ahead and wondered if he would be mad if I asked him to take me back home. There was no way I could sit across from him now.
When he reached for my hand, I couldn’t ignore the way it made my entire body prickle with goose bumps. I took a quick peek over to him, but he seemed to be unaffected by the touch.
Damn. That sucks.
“Morgan,” he softly said before placing a single kiss on my wrist. My breathing picked up, and I prayed he didn’t notice. “I’m kidding. You didn’t do or say anything last night.”
I let out a breath and closed my eyes. “Thank God.”
“Now, if you do want to feel me up, I won’t complain. At all.”
Jerking my hand from his, I snapped my eyes open to see him giving me the most brilliant smile I’d ever seen. His dimple was on full display. My chest tightened, and there was no way I could ignore the way my lady bits tingled at the idea.
“You asshole! You made me think I did that nearly the whole drive here!”
He laughed, making me smile as I pushed his shoulder before climbing out of the sports car.
“Sorry! I had to, princess.” Blake reached for my hand and intertwined his fingers with mine. We walked hand in hand into the café. My heart was pounding as I searched through my memory for a time when he held my hand before. Never! But again, we’d never been alone together before.
Had Rich ever held my hand? Of course he had, but it had never made my heart feel like it was about to beat out of my chest. Mike had, in the beginning. In the end, he hardly touched me.
I erased all thoughts of Rich and Mike and thought to the few times I had been with Blake. The day he picked me up to drive out to Nash’s for the proposal. Had he taken my hand at all? He hadn’t. We’d talked like we were the best of friends, though, during the entire drive out there. It was so comfortable. Not a moment of awkward silence.
“Morgan? Hello? Where are you?”
Blake’s fingers snapping in front of my face brought me back to the moment. “S-sorry. I was thinking about something and got lost in the memory.”
He winked, and I focused on the hostess. “Table for two?” she asked, letting her eyes roam over Blake.
With a sweet grin, Blake replied, “Yes, ma’am.”
As we made our way to the back corner, he placed his hand on my lower back again and gently guided me in the direction the hostess had gone. My head was spinning, and it confused me beyond belief. Why in the world was Blake having this effect on me? What was happening? Was I that much in need of sex? And not just sex, but sex with Blake?
Blake pulled out the chair for me, and I slipped into it. As he sat, I took him in. The way he brushed his fingers through his hair. The way he grinned at the young girl and thanked her. The way his eyes flickered up and met mine. The idea hit me all over again, all at once.
Sex with Blake.
That was what I wanted. A onetime, casual hookup with a man I knew, was attracted to, trusted, and clearly had a connection with. How easy was that?
He smiled, and I returned the gesture.
Now, how do I present this plan to him without him laughing his ass off? That is the burning question.
FLEXING MY HAND, I tried to ignore the way it tingled after touching Morgan. I tried to ignore the way my heart felt like it stopped each and every time she smiled. Or laughed. Or looked at me. Or fucking took a breath.
Get it together, Blake. Now. And stop flirting with her.
Hell, this woman was one of the reasons I’d moved out of the state. There was no way I could let it happen. Not then, and not now. Not wi
th Morgan. We were friends. She was Nash’s sister. And she was staring at me like she wanted me too.
Morgan was deep in thought again, and the way those blue eyes seemed to look into my soul scared the bejesus out of me. I had worked hard to not show any interest in her, but she was clearly picking up on the sexual connection between us, thanks to my teasing. I knew she felt it. Every time I touched her, her body trembled, and it sent a shock straight to my cock.
I smiled, and she smiled back.
Stop picturing her naked, you asshole. Stop dreaming of what her skin feels like. Or how she would feel wrapped in your arms.