"That was what it was like to sit through that dinner."

"If it felt anything like this, why the hell would you have stayed?"

"Because he's one of your friends and you care about him. And because I care about you and hoped that after dinner you'd explain some things to me."

"But I didn't."

"No." She took a breath and lowered her arms. "Now does it make sense why I'm so pissed off at you?"

His chin rose, eyes searching her face. "It's beginning to."

"Good. If you're serious about wanting another chance, I need to know more about you. I need you to trust me to decide whether I still want you or not."

His stillness unnerved her. "You're asking a lot."

"It doesn't seem like it."

The lilt of his accent did nothing to hide the pain behind his words. "You're asking for the world, darlin'. And I’ll be damned if I won't give it to you."

He rose from her desk and stepped toward her. There was that electric current, sending tingles across her skin and hardening her nipples. At least the stiff canvas of the apron hid that. She held her ground, refusing to give him the satisfaction of knowing how much his agreement meant to her.

"Let me take you home," he said.

"We're not going to do anything but talk."

 

; Finally, a wry grin. "If you say so. I don't even have to come inside."

A desperate noise escaped her. The house. He means the house...

She tried to untie her apron, but the light glittered on a hint of the sanding sugar brushed on the fabric. The shimmer reminded her of what his skin looked like covered in a fine sheen of sweat that only came after a long, hard fuck. Her hands shook as she worked at the knot of the ties.

His dark chuckle drew her attention from the task. He took another step forward, so much closer than she'd realized, and reached out to place his hands on the wall on either side of her, trapping her. “I don’t have to come inside,” he repeated, “unless you want me to.”

His statement hung there in the air between them, slowly expanding until it consumed all the oxygen left in her suddenly too-small office. One of his fingers brushed against the edge of her apron and a whimper escaped her, mind flashing forward to the sensation of his body pumping into hers, spilling his liquid heat deep, claiming her completely.

She didn’t like the flash of understanding that lit up his blue eyes. “Ah,” he said softly.

“Ah, what? I didn’t say I wanted you to come inside.” Her frantic attempt to cover the breathiness in her voice only made the entendre worse.

“Oh, Viv, there’s no fecking way I’m looking the other way on that one.” He blinked and glanced down at his arm. Like magic, she followed the movement.

Dammit! When the hell did her hand end up clutching his bicep? As if they were prepared for the protest, her fingers curled more into the curve of the muscle, tightening her grip instead of loosening it as she’d planned.

“I’m taking you home. Anything else that happens is your choice. But you should know I’m more than willing to participate in any way you’d let me.” He drew back, smile edged out by seriousness. "After we talk."

He dropped his hands from the wall and stepped back to give her space. She finished untying her apron and draped it over her desk, too aware of his eyes lingering over her peaked nipples.

"Let's go." His voice was low and rough and she shivered as its rasp slid over her skin.

He followed her home, parking beside her in the lot. They stood near the trunk of his car. He didn't make a move to wrap an arm around her shoulder or waist, but that was probably a good thing. The attraction she felt toward him was a temptation, but the allure of finally learning who this man was proved even greater. She wasn't going to mess up this opportunity.

"Do you want to talk here?" he asked as he gestured to her door. "Or can I take you somewhere–"

The rest of his sentence slipped to the back of her attention. She paused, trying to figure out why her senses were warning her something was off. Zeke, ever attentive, fell silent beside her. He didn't ask any annoying or obvious questions. Instead, he took a step closer to her, the tips of his fingers light against the back of her elbow.

"My porch light's off," she whispered, finally figuring out what had given her that strange, sick feeling.

Tags: M.A. Grant Erotic
Source: readsnovelonline.net