Politically Incorrect by Jeanne McDonald Page A

just surpassed the brink of manhood. Tit for tat.
    Secure in my decision, I moved back to the fridge. Cold air blasted against my face as I opened both doors. My eyes scanned the shelves, searching for anything that might fill my stomach. So much food and nothing appeared appetizing. I opened and closed the drawers, barely paying attention to what was really in them.
    About to slam the doors shut, I was stopped by the warmth of his breath fanning over my hair. His chest pressed against my back and the smell of the outdoors flooded my senses. My body burned with kinetic energy. I tried to calm my erratic breathing, but there was no controlling it. His mere closeness caused me to tremble. Even if I wanted to move, I couldn’t. He had me pinned between him and the cool refrigerator.
    A strong, defined arm reached over my shoulder and a huge hand appeared in front of my face. I glanced up to see Liam standing over me, sweat peppering his brow. His mouth pulled into a crooked grin as our eyes met.
    Inside I was screaming in aggravation. This man was exasperating. Here he was, rubbing his nasty, sweaty, smelly...hot, gorgeous, amped up, body against me when I was clean and dressed for the day.
    “Do you mind?” I snarled.
    “No, I don’t,” he buzzed, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge.
    I tried to shove him back, but it was no use. He was hard as stone and acted like he didn’t even notice my attempt for escape.
    Liam pulled his arm back slowly, letting the bare skin of his wrist brush against my neck.
    Ugh! What the hell?
    I raked my nails through my silky locks, fighting the irritation crawling under my skin. No matter what, I had to get myself under control, apologize, and put this crap behind me so I could get to work on important stuff – like making sure Liam won the race.
    I turned my eyes heavenward and sighed in resignation. With my chin lifted, I closed the fridge doors and swung around to face Liam.
    He backed away keeping his eyes locked on me. A bemused smile played across those sexy as fuck lips.
    “Sleep well?” he queried, hoisting himself up onto the large island behind the refrigerator. He dragged the bottle of cold water across his brow to cool his face. “Because you look quite exhausted.”
    Thrown off task by his comment, not to mention that seductive little move of his, I gritted my teeth into a polished grin. “I slept fine. Thank you.”
    He shrugged. “Could’ve fooled me.” Taken back by his candor, I examined his expression. His eyes darkened with mischief. “You really should sleep more if you intend on helping me win the election. From what I hear it’s going to be time consuming, me being the dark horse and all.”
    Liam twisted the lid off the bottle and brought it to his mouth. His throat bobbed as he gulped down the water. Lost in his actions, I smacked my lips, drawing my tongue out over them. Liam twisted the lid back on the bottle and dropped it to his lap. His gaze traveled down my body, heating every inch of me. I dared to meet those smoldering eyes of his, only to get lost in my memory of him. Tanned skin. Firm muscles. Defined torso. An exceptional….
    Oh shit! I just looked at his crotch!
    I jerked my eyes away from him, feeling something warm rise in my cheeks. No way in hell could I be blushing.
    No! No! No!
    But there it was. My blood surged through my veins. The thrum of my heartbeat pounded in my ears. Tension mounted inside me and at any moment it could explode.
    And it nearly did at the sound of the kettle chirping, which caused me to jump clean out of my skin. “Jesus!” I screeched.
    “I’ve been called many things, but that’s a new one for me.”
    The seriousness of his tone caused me to laugh. “How about asshole? Have you heard that one before?”
    As I whipped around to turn off the stove and collect my screaming kettle, he tapped his chin and laughed.
    “You seem rather jittery this morning,” he evaluated. “Maybe you should take a shower .