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“I’ve lost count of how many times I wake up in a tangle of sheets expecting to see you naked between my thighs, while my erection is ready to burst because of your tongue.”

He leaves me speechless. I never expected him to come back with anything so explicit.

He offers a wicked grin. “You started it, babe.” He traces along my lips with his finger. “These lips, covered with red lipstick, are any guy’s wet dream.” He caresses my hair. “And this hair is what fantasies are made of. But most of all, it wouldn’t be happening for me if it wasn’t you that came with the lips and hair. It’s all you, Savannah…Your beauty… How you make everyone around you feel special… You giving to the children who don’t have parents… No one has ever affected me the way you do, and, although it scares the shit outta me, I’m not going anywhere.” He chuckles. “I can’t even hide that fact.”

He glances around and, taking my hand, presses my palm against the hard length of him.

My eyes snap up to his before I look at his groin.

He moves my hand away and lets it go. As though my hand has a mind of its own, I reach out and caresses along the ridged length, feeling him lengthen even more at my touch.

“You need to stop.” He grabs my hand and pulls it from his body, albeit reluctantly.

His hand shakes as he tries to catch his breath.

“Please talk about something else or I’m not going to be able to walk out of here,” he begs.

Clearing my throat, I inch a bit away from him and lean back against the sofa, noticing for the first time the branches of the tree overhead.

I haven’t been here before and when I arrived, I’d been too nervous and apprehensive to really take notice. But the ambience of the coffee shop reminds me of the Rainforest Café. We’re surrounded with trees and flowered shrubs, which gives a nice and relaxed atmosphere. I suppose I should be glad that we’re alone because I never gave a thought to anyone else being here when I caressed him.

I could have carried on if he hadn’t moved my hand away. I loved the feel of him hard and long under my palm. And he’s been dreaming about me being on my hands and knees, no less, between his thighs. I bet I had red lipstick on while my mouth was wrapped around his cock.

I’m sure that image is going to stay with me until I can replace it with a memory.

“What are you looking so pleased about?”

I wink and grin in his direction.

“Forget I asked.” He groans. “Tell me about your birthday. Anything to change the subject.”

“I’ll have to invest in some red lipstick, and soon.” I clear my throat and try not to laugh at the lustful agony in Jace’s eyes. “My birthday, huh? Well, Uncle Ned is arranging a barbecue and has probably invited the whole department if he has his way. It isn’t a special one or anything, he just loves any excuse to barbecue, and on this occasion it happens to be my birthday…You’re coming, right?”

“He asked me.” He rubs his forehead.

“What’s wrong? And why did that sound like you planned on not being there? I’d love for you to be with me,” I ask, the worry clear in my questions.

“I’ll be there. I’m just worried that me being with you is going to cause a problem in the friendship I have with Ned. I still want you, Savannah. I’ll always choose you, but he’s been there for me through thick and thin. It would hurt to lose him.”

“Oh stop. You know my uncle, and he won’t have a problem with me being with you. He obviously likes you and, on the odd occasion, I’ve wondered whether he put us together for the

very reason you’re worried about.”

He frowns. “Maybe.”

“So, when are you free to start with the softball?”

“Tomorrow too soon?” He grins.

“That would be great.” I return his grin as my fingers find his hand on their own, and we sit together with our hands clasped.

Chapter Seven

Jace

After yesterday’s coffee interlude with Savannah, I’m sure the smile is still firmly planted on my face. The more time I spend with her, the more difficult I find it to walk away and let her go back to her house without me. Sometimes I get the impression that she’s shy, which contradicts how she reacted to me in the coffee shop with her hand on me for anyone to see.

She hadn’t wanted the afternoon to end and neither had I, so it’s no wonder that she’d been disappointed when I’d walked her to her car. If I’m honest, I don’t trust myself to keep my hands to myself when we’re alone. I want her too badly, and I know, given the right circumstances, that I won’t be able to keep them off her.

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