Compromising Positions (An Erotic Romance Novel) by Tawny Taylor Page B

road. I insist.” She pulled him back inside, shoved him toward the couch and then went to the kitchen to make the coffee. “Wait here. It’ll only take a minute. It’s the least I can do for all your trouble.”
    He looked amused.
    “What?”
    “This doesn’t have anything to do with that naked comment, does it?”
    “Hell, no!” Liar! “I just would hate to see you fall asleep at the wheel. Be right back.” Once in the kitchen, she dumped some water and coffee grounds in their respective places then sat at the table to wait.
    And wait…and wait…how freakin’ long did it take for the coffee-maker to work? Was it broken? She lacked the energy to get up and check on it. No, it couldn’t be broken. It was brand new. She rested her arms on the table and dropped her head onto them…and fell asleep.
    It was pretty quiet in the kitchen, and still no nutty coffee aroma. Time to check on Fate.
    He walked around the half wall separating the living room from kitchen.
    Sleeping. He wasn’t surprised. And quite a picture, she was, too. Her red curls falling out of her ponytail and draped across her face and shoulders. Her features relaxed, lacking the tension he’d seen all day. She looked younger, innocent, vulnerable…and a little uncomfortable. She’d have one hell of a stiff neck tomorrow if she didn’t move.
    He shook her shoulders, and she groaned. He called her name, and she moaned. Still, she didn’t move.
    Well, he couldn’t leave her there! Hell, she might slide sideways and crack her head on the floor. He scooped her into his arms, loving the feel of her weight against him. His cock got harder than concrete. Wishing she were wide awake, begging for his touch, he set her on the bed.
    That was better. He took a step back, his gaze resting on her form. She still didn’t look very comfortable. Had to be the belt. That was it. He removed it, receiving a soft sigh as a reward.
    Hmmm…her blouse and skirt looked a little restricting too. What kind of gentleman would he be leaving her like this when she was so helpless? He sat next to her on the bed, playing with a flame-colored curl twisting around his fingertip. Undressing her was not an attempt to exorcize his libido. Not at all. She was loaded, couldn’t undress herself, and uncomfortable. And he could help her, poor baby. He was being…chivalrous. Yeah, that was it.
    He started with the jacket, not an easy task, since it was cut to fit and clung to her shoulders like a possessive boyfriend. But after some interesting and rather comical maneuvers, he managed well enough. He hung it on the doorknob—would hate to see it get wrinkled.
    Next came the blouse. That was an altogether different kind of challenge. With each button released, his cock became harder until he could just about holler. Her smooth ivory-skinned stomach, concave and about as tempting as a cold beer on a hot summer day, was fully exposed, as was her sexy black lace bra. What a combination! Short black skirt and lace bra to match. Too bad she couldn’t come to work dressed like that!
    He could even see the pink of a lonely nipple peeking through the lace. It needed a kiss.
    He bit his lip. Damn it, he wanted to taste her! Just one lick.
    But how chivalrous would that be?
    He sighed, frustrated, nursing a set of blue balls, and forced himself to finish the job. He had to reach around her back to unzip her skirt, and that left him painfully aware of how she smelled, how she felt in his arms, how soft her skin was and how sweet she was rumpled and sleeping. With a groan, he unzipped her skirt, stood at the foot of the bed, turned his head and pulled.
    He wouldn’t look. That would be the end of him.
    Okay, maybe just one tiny look.
    Holy shit! Black lace thong? His gaze riveted there, at the black V between her legs, then wandered upward.
    She smiled in her sleep and rolled onto her side, jutting that delectable ass out. Black lace disappeared between two round, firm cheeks. He could