I’m supposed to be spackling the nail pops in the living room, but I keep getting distracted by glimpses of him through the front door.
Covered in a sheen of sweat, he lifts the hem of his T-shirt to wipe his face with it, and I’m graced with a flash of his abs. My thighs clench together. Like a masochist, I continue staring as he lifts a water bottle to his mouth and takes a long swig. I stare, and I stare, at the way his lips curve around the bottle; at the muscles working in his jaw; at the movements in his throat.
The memory of our kiss has burned a hole in my mind. I’m ashamed to admit how many times I’ve replayed it. Even now, if I close my eyes, I can feel his skin on my fingertips, feel those plump lips and that sinful tongue of his stroking mine.
Desire has sunken in, and it’s sprouting roots.
The shock of it hasn’t worn off either. All the pent-up anger and resentment I’ve spent years holding on to, where does it go? It feels as if it’s floating over me like the clouds of an impending storm. We said our apologies, and smoothed things over. We’ve been working well together. But then we kissed, and I can’t stop questioning myself about it.
Why did I kiss him?
Why did I want to?
And how do I go back to pretending I don’t want to do it again?
The door smacks against the frame as Landon steps inside. “It’s so hot.”
Yes. Yes, it is.
I clear my throat and turn back to the wall I’m supposed to be spackling. “Maybe you shouldn’t work outside in the middle of the day. Don’t want you to get heatstroke and die on me.”
He slumps down onto the couch. “Eh, you’d get me to the hospital before I died.”
“You sound so sure about that.”
He chuckles. “It’s fine. I don’t mind helping you.”
“How’s everything looking?”
When he doesn’t respond, I glance over my shoulder. His eyes are zeroed in on my ass, trailing down the backs of my legs.
I clear my throat, arching a devious eyebrow at him when his eyes flick to mine.
“Huh?”
“I asked how everything is looking.” I blink. “You know, on the porch.”
He licks his lips. “Everything’s looking real good. In better shape than I thought.”
I shake my head as I smooth the remaining spackle against the wall. “You’re incorrigible.”
Landon stands from the couch, and in the next second, there’s a wall of heat at my back. His deep voice rasps in my ear. “You still running every morning?”
“Mhmm.” I keep my body straight, not moving an inch. “Four miles. Making good time too.”
His hands don’t touch me. His body hovers so that if I want him to touch me, I have to back myself against him. Nothing but the warmth of his breath skates across my skin.
“You’re always so disciplined, so in control of everything.” His lips are right at the cusp of my ear. “What happens when you let go, hmm?”
“I like being in control.” As the words leave my mouth, I lean back a fraction to close the space between us. I rest my head back on his shoulder, leaving my neck exposed.
“I’d like to see that restraint snap.” He drags his nose along the column of my neck, and my body shivers. “I’d like to be the one it snaps for.”
My body heats, needing his touch, needing his hands on me.
Needingrelief.
Until he steps backward, and takes his warmth with him. “I fixed a few planks on the porch. Tomorrow I’ll come by and seal it before I put on a fresh coat of paint.”
