through my clit and up my spine.
I want him. Now.
Both of his hands glide up my hips, my sides, and cup my full breasts. He worries the nipples with his thumbs as he sweeps his amazing lips down my jawline to my neck.
“You’re so sweet,” he whispers. “You’ve been drinking wine.”
I grin and nod. He chuckles softly against my skin, making me tingle even more.
“Can I pour you a glass?” I ask, my voice trembling.
“No, I’m drunk enough on you, sweetheart.” He settles his lips over mine again and boosts me higher against the wall, even tighter against him.
I plunge my hands in his thick, dark brown hair and hang on for dear life as his mouth plunders mine, his tongue dancing and rubbing with my own. Finally he pulls back, panting raggedly. He kisses my cheek softly and brushes his thumb over my lower lip.
“I’d better go before I rip the clothes off your delectable little body and take you against this wall.”
“Go ahead.” I enjoy the way his eyes widen as he swallows thickly. Holy shit, did I really just say that?
“Not yet.” He shakes his head and slowly lowers me to the floor. “It’s too soon, and as much as I want you right now, I don’t want to rush this.”
“Why not?” I whisper, his words a balm to my ego. I want him. I shouldn’t, and this is nuts, but I so, so want him.
“Because this isn’t a one-night stand for me, Cara. I don’t know where this will go, but it’s not a quick fuck against the wall by your front door.”
“I have a bedroom,” I offer with a smile.
He grins down at me, his eyes happy and warm. “Soon,” he promises, and cups my cheek in his hand once more, gently kisses me, and then sighs. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
He opens the front door and looks back at me, almost hesitating as if he wants to say something more, but he turns and shuts the door behind him, and I’m left leaning against my wall, a panty-soaked, gasping-for-breath mess.
So much for maintaining my professionalism.
Taking a deep breath, I reach for my phone and call Jillian back to reassure her that I wasn’t just attacked by a serial killer.
* * *
I’m a complete wimp.
I called in sick this morning for the first time in four years.
I shake my head in disgust and pour more beige paint into the pan, run my roller through it, and smooth it over the wall. I couldn’t face Josh today. I need to get a handle on my emotions, and I can’t do that when I’m around him.
He’s too . . . Josh.
How can he just come into my home, kiss the hell out of me, and then leave as if nothing happened? Okay, so he didn’t leave as if nothing happened, but still. Who the hell does that?
And why do I so desperately want him to do it again?
Because he’s hotter than sin and you want in his pants.
“Cara?”
I frown and turn at the sound of Seth’s voice coming from my front door.
“Seth, you’re supposed to knock, for God’s sake!”
And there’s Josh, right behind him.
“I’m back here!” I yell out with a resigned sigh, set the roller in the pan, and wipe my hands on the rag resting on my shoulder.
I turn to find Seth and Josh staring at me from the door. Seth wrinkles his nose and sighs. “I do not want to paint. Tell me you’re not going to make me paint.”
Josh leans casually against the doorframe and smirks at me. “Sick, huh?”
I shrug and turn around, cleaning up my mess.
“Are you feeling better?” Seth asks.
“I’m fine,” I mumble.
“Seth, why don’t you go wait for Cara at the kitchen table.” Josh hasn’t taken his eyes off me, and I squirm as Seth leaves the room. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m fine,” I repeat as I place the lid on the can of paint.
“You called in sick this morning.”
I shrug again, not wanting to admit that he’s the reason I didn’t come to work, and pissed that my lust for him is interfering with my job.
“Look at me.” His voice is firm. I close my eyes and cross my arms over my
I want him. Now.
Both of his hands glide up my hips, my sides, and cup my full breasts. He worries the nipples with his thumbs as he sweeps his amazing lips down my jawline to my neck.
“You’re so sweet,” he whispers. “You’ve been drinking wine.”
I grin and nod. He chuckles softly against my skin, making me tingle even more.
“Can I pour you a glass?” I ask, my voice trembling.
“No, I’m drunk enough on you, sweetheart.” He settles his lips over mine again and boosts me higher against the wall, even tighter against him.
I plunge my hands in his thick, dark brown hair and hang on for dear life as his mouth plunders mine, his tongue dancing and rubbing with my own. Finally he pulls back, panting raggedly. He kisses my cheek softly and brushes his thumb over my lower lip.
“I’d better go before I rip the clothes off your delectable little body and take you against this wall.”
“Go ahead.” I enjoy the way his eyes widen as he swallows thickly. Holy shit, did I really just say that?
“Not yet.” He shakes his head and slowly lowers me to the floor. “It’s too soon, and as much as I want you right now, I don’t want to rush this.”
“Why not?” I whisper, his words a balm to my ego. I want him. I shouldn’t, and this is nuts, but I so, so want him.
“Because this isn’t a one-night stand for me, Cara. I don’t know where this will go, but it’s not a quick fuck against the wall by your front door.”
“I have a bedroom,” I offer with a smile.
He grins down at me, his eyes happy and warm. “Soon,” he promises, and cups my cheek in his hand once more, gently kisses me, and then sighs. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
He opens the front door and looks back at me, almost hesitating as if he wants to say something more, but he turns and shuts the door behind him, and I’m left leaning against my wall, a panty-soaked, gasping-for-breath mess.
So much for maintaining my professionalism.
Taking a deep breath, I reach for my phone and call Jillian back to reassure her that I wasn’t just attacked by a serial killer.
* * *
I’m a complete wimp.
I called in sick this morning for the first time in four years.
I shake my head in disgust and pour more beige paint into the pan, run my roller through it, and smooth it over the wall. I couldn’t face Josh today. I need to get a handle on my emotions, and I can’t do that when I’m around him.
He’s too . . . Josh.
How can he just come into my home, kiss the hell out of me, and then leave as if nothing happened? Okay, so he didn’t leave as if nothing happened, but still. Who the hell does that?
And why do I so desperately want him to do it again?
Because he’s hotter than sin and you want in his pants.
“Cara?”
I frown and turn at the sound of Seth’s voice coming from my front door.
“Seth, you’re supposed to knock, for God’s sake!”
And there’s Josh, right behind him.
“I’m back here!” I yell out with a resigned sigh, set the roller in the pan, and wipe my hands on the rag resting on my shoulder.
I turn to find Seth and Josh staring at me from the door. Seth wrinkles his nose and sighs. “I do not want to paint. Tell me you’re not going to make me paint.”
Josh leans casually against the doorframe and smirks at me. “Sick, huh?”
I shrug and turn around, cleaning up my mess.
“Are you feeling better?” Seth asks.
“I’m fine,” I mumble.
“Seth, why don’t you go wait for Cara at the kitchen table.” Josh hasn’t taken his eyes off me, and I squirm as Seth leaves the room. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m fine,” I repeat as I place the lid on the can of paint.
“You called in sick this morning.”
I shrug again, not wanting to admit that he’s the reason I didn’t come to work, and pissed that my lust for him is interfering with my job.
“Look at me.” His voice is firm. I close my eyes and cross my arms over my
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