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Was she still upset about that loser of a husband of hers? She’d seemed happier when they’d parted. Had he managed to make her forget for a little while?
Duh, of course she was still upset. The woman’s husband had cheated on her and asked for a divorce.
He shoved his heels against his sheets. What the fuck did that Lonny James have? He’d not only landed his sister but Karyn too. Beautiful, sweet Karyn.
Who he wanted to fuck. Badly.
“I’m going to hell,” he muttered, staring miserably at the ceiling in his darkened bedroom. Reason ten million why women and men had trouble being friends. Once attraction flavored the stew, good manners went out the window.
At least he hadn’t put the moves on her. The moves sounded as if he actually had game. After his last couple mostly dateless years, he probably didn’t. But he did have needs. If he had to guess, Karyn did too. A handful of orgasms in three years? Christ, even he could improve upon that.
Before he could talk himself out of it, he fumbled for his cell. He’d tossed it on the floor, mainly to keep his hands away from it so he wasn’t tempted to do something rash. Like call her and ask if she wanted company.
He wasn’t a rash guy. If anyone asked his exes, they’d probably say his idea of being impulsive meant watching the hockey game instead of football. He was overdue for a little spontaneity. Even if he’d already used up his yearly quotient by contacting Karyn in the first place.
Had he really expected to be able to talk her back into her marriage? Or if she hadn’t known Lon was cheating on her, tell her about her husband’s affair?
He wasn’t that heartless. He hoped.
Daisy had been in Lonny’s woodworking class, of all things. Woodworking. She’d wanted to make something for one of her exes. Instead she’d ditched the ex and bedded her teacher.
No way could he have told Karyn cold if she’d been clueless as to her husband’s extracurricular activities. He might be known around the editorial office as a cranky jerk, but even he had his limits.
Tonight, however, they seemed to have jumped a few paces farther out.
He turned on his phone and took a long breath. Here goes… Nothing, I’m coming for you.
Luckily he had a great memory and remembered her number. He punched in the digits and hesitated. Maybe a text would be better. He pushed the button on his watch to illuminate the dial. Almost midnight. What should he say?
Other than he thought her silver rings were fucking sexy and he longed to see her long dark hair untied from its braid and spread over her shoulders, scraping the hard points of her nipples. Ached to see her light-brown eyes glimmer with humor and interest as they had earlier before the desire he’d felt building between them boiled over and turned to outright lust.
He spent a lot of time with words. So much time he didn’t prefer speaking too many of them in a row. But he had tonight, though he’d mostly listened.
She’d seemed so eager to open herself, completely unlike any other almost-divorcée he’d ever met. Guarded? Not hardly.
Before he could halt the forward progress of his thumbs, they answered the question of what to say for him.
What r u wring?
Jeff tossed the phone aside then leaped on it when it buzzed a moment later. Thank God. She didn’t think he was a perverted weirdo. Or if she did at least she’d elected to answer him before she blocked his calls.
Boxers & my shotgn’s beside me. Who the f r u?
Hmm, maybe he’d forgotten Karyn’s number after all. She didn’t seem like the type to sit around in boxers while armed. He texted back a quick sorry and then sent his message again, changing the last digit to an 8. That had to be right. If it wasn’t, he’d likely need to get a new number. And possibly police protection.
This time it took considerably longer to get a response.
Jeff? No, I’m not wrong.
He groaned. So much for texting. She’d totally misinterpreted his question. He could take it as a way out or he could see this ill-conceived mission through. It was dark and he was horny. He hadn’t done nearly enough in his life to regret. Tonight seemed like a fine time to start.
Beyond that, he liked her. Genuinely. And he wished like hell he hadn’t let her go home alone to an empty house.
His thumbs moved over the buttons.
R u naked?
Jeff?
