“I’m so embarrassed,” Amy mumbled.
“Why?” Colin kissed her nose. “You were the cutest.”
Grant entered the dining room through another doorway, and while Helen was setting the places, he placed a bottle of wine in a beautiful chrome wine chiller set in the middle of the table. I started to sit, preparing to tease Amy about her pictures, then I frowned, realizing Helen was setting six places.
There were only five of us.
Just then I heard a car outside. It grew louder as it approached, then it stopped, the ensuing silence quickly followed by the muted sounds of a car door shutting.
“He’s here,” Helen told Grant.
“On time too,” he replied, heading toward the hall.
Blood rushed to my head, faster and faster until I felt like I couldn’t breathe. Please let it be anyone else, I thought, desperate. Anyone but Jason.
The front door opened with a smooth sound and I turned a desperate glance toward Amy. “Who’s here?” I asked, praying the answer would be anything apart from the one I was dreading.
“Oh, Jason,” she said absently, unaware of the epic storm raging in my mind. “He called just before you came down. He returned early
and decided to join us after all. Great, right?”
She was still engrossed in the pictures and didn’t look up at me as she spoke, but Colin did, and he saw the panic in my face.
I schooled my features a moment too late and forced a smile. “Yeah…great,” I replied, turning in the direction of the hall just as he walked into the living room.
Chapter Two
Jason’s presence filled the room immediately. He was like a thing of brilliance, compelling everything else to orbit around him. He looked terrific too, intense, with his hair combed back and the overlong waves at the top just begging for my fingers to thread through them. A dark blue shirt emphasized the breadth of his shoulders, and it was tucked into light-colored pants that showed off his long legs. The muted leather belt at his slim, tightly muscled waist made me want to hook my fingers through it and press my body against the firm contours of his own.
He was hot, and me—I was burning.
I knew just how hard and strong his body was under those clothes. I knew exactly how the muscles in his abs formed a V all the way down to his cock. I knew exactly what his cock felt like when it was inside me, and the knowledge was turning me into an aroused mess of nerves.
His eyes locked with mine. Under that gaze, my nipples tightened under my dress and arousal spread between my legs. It had been easy to tell myself I could stop wanting him when he was far away, but now, standing in front of him, I couldn’t lie to myself anymore. There was a hole inside me that he had filled and now that he wasn’t there, the rest of me was crumbling around it.
There was a chorus of greeting and hugs. Everyone was glad to see him, even me. I was apprehensive, and my body had gone entirely out of my control, but there was nowhere in the world I’d have preferred to be than right there, just a few feet away from him.
“Glad you could make it,” Grant said after they hugged. “How was Miami?”
“Fun.” He grinned.
Jealousy twisted in my stomach as I thought of beaches with unbelievably sexy women clad in tiny bikinis. There was no way he’d been in Miami thinking about me the way I’d been thinking about him. I was sure he had long since moved on, and the realization hurt.
“Dinner is set,” Helen announced. “You arrived right on time.”
We went to the table. Jason disappeared for a moment but returned and took the seat right beside me. We’d said a casual hi for the benefit of his family, and now I wondered what I would say to him all through the meal. I didn’t look at him, but I could feel his presence with every inch of my body and with every breath I took. I knew what I wanted to say. It started with please and ended with I need you to fuck me now.
The wine was poured. Grant gave a short toast. We started eating, and through every moment, my senses stayed acutely trained on Jason. My nose caught the familiar scent of his shampoo, the faint hint of spicy cologne. I wanted to drag my lips across his skin, to fill my senses with all of him.
“What’s it like working for a small press?”
I turned to Grant, almost blushing at the direction my thoughts had been going. “It’s interesting,” I replied. “We cater to a relatively small niche. They know what to expect, and we know what to give them.”
“Makes marketing a lot easier, I assume,” Grant said.
“Exactly.”
“The wine is delicious, Dad,” Amy said. “What’s it called?”