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No, he’d never physically harmed her, but trying to stifle her when she should be wild and free hadn’t been much better.
She reached up and placed her hand on his cheek. “No, Jayson. You’re nothing like your father. I heard the stories from both you and your mom, and I believed then what I believe now.”
He stayed silent, as if part of him knew how badly he needed to hear what came next.
“You’re overprotective at times, but you’re also kind. And sweet.”
He grumbled.
She laughed and patted his cheek. “It’s okay to be sweet. You’re not your dad. You could never be that small of a man.”
The moment called for a kiss, so he bent his head. She inclined her chin to meet him in the middle.
Maybe vulnerability had its merits.
She tasted like Gia. Like the woman he hadn’t seen at this ungodly hour since he’d awoken next to her in the bed they shared. It was a bed he’d like to share with her again...say, right now.
She surprised him by reaching up and clinging to his neck, kissing him deeper. He untied her robe, slipping his palms over her warm skin. Beneath he found a simple white tank top and black panties. This outfit was one of his all-time favorites. No fancy lingerie needed, his ex-wife was sexiest when she wore cotton.
He sucked in a breath as he lifted the edge of her tank and tickled her skin. “So soft.”
Her own breathing sped as her hands roamed over his T-shirt. “We have to go to work,” she cautioned, but there was no conviction in her words.
“And if we don’t?” He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her flush against him. He was already hard from that kiss. “When was the last time you did something you weren’t supposed to, Gia?”
She laughed, the sound husky and sexy, and turned those dark eyes up to him. Her grin held. “It’s been frequent since we’ve been hanging out more often.”
He liked that.
He lifted and deposited her on the countertop, content to use the momentum they had to spend some serious quality time with her. Just as his mouth stamped hers and his hand closed over her breast, a sharp knock came from the front door.
“It’s us!” Taylor Knox called out. She hadn’t made it into the kitchen yet, but she would soon enough.
“Crap! I forgot.” Gia shoved away from him and hopped off the counter.
“What the hell...?” He adjusted the part of himself that had recently become large enough to be a distraction.
“Royce and Taylor asked if they could swing by on the way to work today to drop off something.”
“What something?” It’d better be important, that was for damn sure.
She waved him off. “Go hide.”
“Hide?”
“Jayson, it’s seven in the morning and neither of us are dressed.”
“Last I checked we’re not teenagers. You have nothing to explain.” He folded his arms. He wasn’t going anywhere. “You’re a grown woman.” As a grown woman she could sleep with Jayson—or almost sleep with him—anytime she liked.
“At least act casual?” she pleaded.
“Casual went out the window with that kiss.”
She glared, a sure sign she agreed, and then walked out of sight.
A moment later, Taylor was chattering her way excitedly through the house. Royce’s low murmur followed. Jayson poured himself a cup of coffee and leaned against the countertop. When Taylor entered the kitchen, her sentence trailed off into an ellipsis.
“Hi, Coop,” she said carefully, exchanging glances with Royce before swapping a lengthier one with Gia.
