“So far, so good.” He lowers his head an inch and then another. “And getting better all the time.”
It’s like it was before but even hotter. Not so tentative this time.
And we’re sitting, which helps. I don’t have to worry about him kissing me until I’m so breathless that I swoon in his arms.
Though he is leaving me breathless, kissing me slowly, passionately. I run my hand over his scruffy cheek before letting my fingers slide into his thick, soft hair. His breath catches a little, which only makes my breath catch.
There’s nothing in the world but him. But us. I can’t get enough of his taste, his smell. The feeling of his lips moving against mine, the strong arm wrapped around me, pulling me closer until there’s no space between us at all.
And that’s still not enough. I’m hungry for him, starving for a real man in my life. Now that I have him with me here and now, I’m not about to let it go to waste.
“Do you have an early meeting?” I whisper as he kisses my cheek, my throat.
“Not this time.” It’s a growl, deep and full of promise.
My heart somehow manages to beat even faster, which shouldn’t be possible since it’s already pounding out of my chest.
“Good.” I catch his mouth again and bury both hands in his hair this time.
The way he groans is like magic, heating me from the inside out, like no actual fire could ever do.
Then, his phone rings, and he groans louder. And a little less sexily. “Damn it. Hang on.”
I wait while he fishes the phone from his jacket.
“Energetic or not, when your father’s in his eighties, you answer every call.”
“Understood.” I would feel the same way about my grandmother, especially after the scare with her heart attack.
He stands and takes a few steps away. His answers to whoever’s on the other end are short. I can’t get a read on what’s happening. Whatever it is can’t be all that great.
“Fine.” He slides the phone into his pocket. I watch as his shoulders rise and fall.
I finally have to ask, “Is everything okay?”
“Just great.” He turns to me with a shrug. “My father. He wants to go over numbers for a meeting we’re going into tomorrow morning. Says it can’t wait until breakfast.”
My heart sinks. There goes any chance of having fun tonight. “Oh. I see.”
“And I feel like the world’s biggest ass.”
“Don’t. Don’t!” I get up and go to him, sliding my arms around his waist. “You were in town for business before we met, right? You can’t forget all about your responsibilities because of me. Even if I want you to.”
“You’re killing me,” he groans before kissing the top of my head. “Next time. And I’m saying that because I’ll die if I don’t get to spend some alone time with you soon.”
“We’ll have to keep that in mind.” I step back, taking his hand. “Come on. Responsibilities call.”
Though I sincerely wish we both weren’t so darn responsible.
CHAPTER NINE
He touched her cheek. Her skin sizzled from the slight contact.
“What is it about you?” he asked in the softest whisper.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, you make me want to forget about everything in the world but you.”
She laughed. “I’m talented like that.”
Her laughter only covered up what she wanted to say. There weren’t any words for it—at least none she knew—so it would’ve been an embarrassing waste of time, trying to explain how he made her feel.
What he made her feel. Like it was possible to find somebody who saw and understood her.
Not to mention what he did to her in other ways. Physical ways. He didn’t even need to touch her to make her insides flutter, to start a fire deep in her core. A small fire but a healthy one. It smoldered until bursting into full life at the touch of his hand.
“I want to take you home to the ranch. I want to show you my life. My family. And I would love to see you on horseback.”
She gulped. Horseback? He expected her to do that when she hadn’t so much as ridden a bike in years—and even then, it had been a lot of years. Like, since she had worn braces.
“That sounds amazing,” she whispered instead. “I would love that.”
Because aside from the notion of riding a massive horse, it did sound like something she would love to do. Knowing he wanted her to meet his family, to know his life, was sweeter than anything she could imagine.
Until he kissed her.
“No, no.” I mutter a few choice curses before deleting the whole passage. It’s terrible, awful, and it doesn’t come close to scratching the surface of what I felt last night.
Or rather, what my heroine should feel while gazing into the eyes of the man she’s already starting to fall in love with.
I wish there were a way to describe how I felt, being with him. How special he made everything feel. Even something like walking through the park was better, elevated, thanks to him. Everything seemed sort of sparkly. Shimmery.
Yes, I am most definitely in the grip of some serious crushing.
I’m also a writer, for heaven’s sake. I should be able to describe the feeling of walking around with a truly incredible person whose pants I want to tear off.
Certain things aren’t so easy to describe. Especially when a person is in the middle of them, all tangled up in emotion and hormones.
I’ve been working on this scene all day, and nothing’s coming together. It doesn’t flow; it sounds stilted when I read it aloud. This sort of setback happens all the time. It’s certainly not Paxton’s fault.
It’s mine. Because I’m the worst writer who ever put a word on paper. What right do I have to even call myself a published author? Sure, I’ve been published. Okay. But still. Maybe I need to hang up my laptop and call it a day.
The knock on the door couldn’t have come at a better time.
“Please, whoever you are, come in and kill me.”
The door opens slowly.
“Uh, you okay?”
I barely lift my head from my folded arms to find Matt standing halfway inside the apartment. “Do I look okay? Do I sound okay?”
“You’ve been talking to yourself all day. I’ve heard the word hack thrown around to the point where I was afraid it wasn’t about work anymore and you were about to hack somebody to pieces.”
“Those were the times when I was throwing myself on the bed, trying not to actually scream. I wish somebody would hack me to pieces.” I slump even further down in my chair until I’m practically under the desk.
“I thought so, and I figured you might want a happy distraction.”
Before I have the chance to ask if he considers himself a happy distraction, he opens the door wider, and in bounds Phoebe.
Darn it, he knows me. My spirits pick up instantly. How can I help it when I’m getting doggy kisses?
“Hey, beautiful girl!”
“She was worried about you over here, calling yourself a hack and cursing all day.”
“She’s a very insightful dog.” I scratch her behind the ears, which she loves. “I don’t know where I’d be without her.”