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Still, I move to hand the bowl to him, but he stops me by laying a big hand on my knee.
“Feed it to me,” he orders huskily.
My whole body now feels like it’s on fire, tingles of electricity racing up my leg from where his palm is resting. The drilling noises stop, replaced by more hammering, but the construction noise is nothing compared to the roar of my pulse in my ears.
Feed it to him.
Right, okay.
My hand trembles as I scoop up a spoonful of ice cream and bring it to his mouth.
His hard, masculine, oh-so-skilled-at-kissing mouth.
His lips close around the spoon, cleaning off all the ice cream, and my breath catches in my throat as his tongue flicks out to lick off the creamy droplet left on the handle—less than half an inch from where my fingers are spasmodically gripping the spoon.
“Delicious,” he murmurs, his gaze burning me alive, and I belatedly remember that I have to breathe.
Audibly sucking in air, I yank the spoon back, nearly tipping over the ice cream bowl.
“Whoa, careful there…” His hand covers mine, steadying the bowl in my grasp, and the glimmer of dark amusement in his eyes tells me he knows exactly how he’s affecting me—and that he’s enjoying every bit of it.
Asshole.
I want to be mad at him, but I can’t work up sufficient outrage. I’ve never been this turned on. Ever. My underwear is soaking wet, and my sex is literally throbbing at the erotic movie playing in my mind. I can picture his skilled mouth closing over my nipple, then trailing burning kisses down my stomach before those warm, supple lips close around my clit and—
“Excuse me, Mr. Carelli? We’re done.”
Rodney’s voice is like a bucket of ice water in my face.
I’d completely forgotten the workers are here.
Mortified, I jump to my feet, clutching the bowl in front of me like it can hide the burning flush covering my cheeks. What the hell was I thinking? Another couple of minutes, and Marcus and I would’ve been horizontal, ice cream and our audience forgotten.
Juan’s thoughts must be in line with mine because he’s smirking as he stands next to Rodney.
Marcus doesn’t seem fazed. Walking over to the reattached door, he inspects the work, then nods brusquely. “Good job, thank you.”
“Yes, thank you,” I echo, fighting my embarrassment as the men gather their tools and leave with a friendly wave in my direction.
I’m relieved when the door closes behind them—that is, until it dawns on me that Marcus and I are now all alone in my apartment.
An apartment with a door that closes and locks.
22
Marcus
My heart is thrumming with dark anticipation as I lock the door and turn to face Emma, who’s standing by the bed and watching me with huge gray eyes, the ice cream melting in the bowl she’s still clutching with both hands.
This is it.
Finally, she’s mine.
I know I’m assuming a lot, but the attraction goes both ways. I could feel her response when I kissed her, could see the rapid beating of the pulse in her neck when I laid my hand on her knee.
She wants me.
She needs this as much as I do.
Holding her gaze, I cross the room and stop in front of her. My dick is painfully hard, but my movements are carefully restrained as I take the bowl from her shaking hands and set it on the nightstand next to our cups of coffee. Then I clasp her small hands and pull her toward me.
She stares up at me, her eyes wide and her breathing fast and shallow.
Beautiful.
She’s so fucking beautiful.
Her lightly freckled skin is so delicate it’s almost translucent, the flush of arousal painting her cheeks with a warm peachy glow. Her rosebud lips are parted, revealing small white teeth, and her curls are like spirals of fire around her pretty, softly rounded face.
Everything about her is soft and pretty, as delicious as that spoonful of ice cream I just had.
Placing one hand on her waist, I curve my other palm around the side of her face and dip my head, about to kiss her, when another loud meow interrupts the silence.
Oh, for fuck’s sake… I cut my eyes to the side and glower at the big cat, who’s emerged from under the bed and is sitting on his furry butt, bushy tail swishing from side to side as he stares up at me with slitted green eyes.
I turn my attention back to Emma, determined to ignore the cockblocking beast, but she’s already stepping out of my hold, looking uncomfortable.
This won’t do.
This won’t do at all.
I catch her hands before she can back away. “Come to my place.” It’s an order, not a request, but I can’t help it. I’ve never wanted a woman this much, have never felt as out of control as I do now. It’s impossible to be suave and seductive with the violent hunger beating at me, demanding that I take her, that I do whatever it takes to make her mine.
