Page 17 of Jameson’s Salvation

“Gotcha.”

Kennedy smiled and relaxed back, sinking farther into the couch cushions, taking no offense to him tabling the conversation.

They both sat there in companionable silence and he liked that about her, too. She didn’t need to fill the void with needless chitchat. She could simply be and enjoy her whiskey.

Yeah, Jameson liked that too much.

With both of their drinks drained and Kennedy stifling a yawn, Jameson reluctantly ended their evening.

“I’m gonna head out,” he told her and stood.

She followed him to her feet, her gaze lingering on his chest a moment before she brought her eyes up and smiled.

“You’re really big,” she blurted out, then quickly tried to cover her blunder. “I mean, you’re really tall. Obviously, I knew this. I mean, you’re tall-tall so it’s easy to see, but standing this close to you and really seeing the height difference…well, it…never mind, I don’t know what I’m trying to say. My brain is malfunctioning.”

Jameson chuckled at her stuttered explanation and let her off the hook. “I get what you’re saying,” he started. “But maybe our height difference has more to do with you being a tiny little thing.”

“I’m not tiny,” she huffed. “I’m five-seven. You’re just a giant.”

“I’m six-three, not eight feet. And compared to me, you’re a little thing. I could toss you over my shoulder and run five miles and still not notice you.”

“I have no doubt,” she mumbled.

He really needed to leave. Now that he was picturing Kennedy’s lean, sexy body thrown over his shoulder, he was not thinking of PT-ing—he was fantasizing about carrying her up to her bedroom and showing her just how big he was.

His body was so much bigger it would easily cover hers, but her long legs would still wrap around his waist. He had no doubt they’d be a perfect fit. The mere thought of Kennedy withering under him while moaning her pleasure made Jameson’s dick twitch in excitement.

It was really time to leave.

“I’ll walk you to the door.”

That was a brilliant idea, he needed to be shown the door. As much as it was his suggestion it was time for him to head home, he was having serious trouble with his feet taking him where he needed to go.

Kennedy opened her front door, leaving the glass storm door closed, and looked up at Jameson with tired eyes and licked her lips. He fought back the groan that was threatening, seeing the moisture her tongue had left behind. He’d bet those full, pink lips would feel great wrapped around his cock.

Goddamn. He was kicking his own ass for thinking dirty thoughts about a woman when he had no business going there with her. But if they did…

“Thanks again for today,” she broke his train of thought.

“No need. I’ll be in touch tomorrow. Will you be around?”

“Yeah, I have a full day in my garden.”

He didn’t even want to think about her bent over, ass in the air, tempting all his strength as she harvested her crop.

“I’ll be over around noon.”

“Okay.” Her answer was timid and she went as far as to look away.

“If that’s not—”

“No. Noon’s fine.”

“Then why are you being shy again?”

She didn’t reply for a moment and Jameson was wondering if he should’ve kept his mouth shut, when she straightened and with a smirk she answered, “I’d rather not say.”

He should’ve known she’d politely tell him to mind his business.