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But since I’m not in my own house, in my own bed, I opted for a shower instead. I certainly don’t need Jonas Mitchell walking in on me while I’m in the throes of giving myself an orgasm.
As my fingers massage my scalp as I wash my hair, I wonder what his reaction would be. Would he join me? Would he finish the job himself?
Heat begins to grow between my legs again, so I force myself to think about something else. Jonas said that he wanted to take me into town for a while to show me around today. The only part of that scenario I am looking forward to is spending time with Jonas. Just the thought of running into Brenda Jenkins again is enough to make my vagina go dry.
Maybe it's a good idea if we run into that awful woman today. Then, maybe I won’t try to hump Jonas like a dog in heat.
Once I am out of the shower, I get dressed in one of the outfits I bought yesterday and take a glance in the mirror.
Holy shit, what am I wearing?
My boot-legged jeans and flannel shirt certainly aren’t what I would usually adorn. At least now, maybe I will fit in a little bit.
Underneath the teal flannel top, I put on a white tank top, leaving the shirt undone.
I throw on a little bit of eye shadow and mascara and call it a day. It’s supposed to be hot, so I don’t want to cake my face with make-up. My oily skin would make me look like a hot mess by the end of the day.
After I pull on my sneakers, I make my way out into the kitchen. This morning, I’m not surprised to see Jonas sitting at the table, reading the paper again.
“Good morning, sweetheart,” he says before taking a sip of coffee.
“Morning,” I say, trying not to focus too hard on how good he looks. He’s wearing light blue denim and a gray t-shirt that does nothing to hide his rippling muscles underneath.
My back is to him as I fix my coffee, and all of a sudden, I hear, “Well, well, well, look at you.”
A groan escapes my lips, and I turn around to face him, leaning my back against the counter. Gesturing up and down my body, I say, “Okay, let’s get it over with. I look ridiculous.”
His eyes narrow in on me, and his face grows almost stern. He stands from the table, and in three long strides, his large body is standing in front of me.
His eyes leave mine for a mere moment as he glances me up and down. My heart thumps in my chest as his eyes look me over.
When his eyes find mine again, he leans in close and, in a low voice, says, “Andi, I don’t think it matters what you wear. You’ll still be sexy as hell.”
I’ve never been good at handling compliments (not that I’ve ever gotten that many to begin with), so breathlessly, I respond, “I think you’re blind.”
He moves even closer, invading every sense that I possess. His lips graze my ear lobe as he begins to whisper. “Oh honey, I’m not blind. I don’t think I’ve ever seen more clearly. You look gorgeous no matter what you wear, but I bet you’d look even better with no clothes on at all.”
I take a deep breath, trying to compose myself. It’s not easy, though, when the all-encompassing Jonas Mitchell is so close. How is it that he is always saying all the right things? I wonder how many women have fallen for his charms and climbed in his bed at night.
He steps back a little bit and licks his lips before he starts to speak. His expression is a bit softer and less intense than it was moments ago. “Hey, I want to apologize for last night.”
My heart sinks a little. Did he not like it as much as I did? “Oh?”
“I mean, I’m not sorry for kissing you. That was amazing. But I am sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable in any way. I don’t want you to feel like you owe me anything.”
“I don’t,” I interrupt. “It’s just been a long time since I’ve been kissed like that.”
Try never.
“Well, for what it’s worth, I don’t just go around kissing random women like that.”
I scoff and roll my eyes. “Whatever. I’m sure you kiss girls all the time.”
I expect him to smile, but his expression is serious as ever. “Not as many as you might think. I’m not saying I’m a monk. But I don’t want you to think that I just kiss every pretty girl I come across. I guess you’re special.” His lips settle into a smile that shows off those dimples, and I’m right back under his spell.
Damn him.
Trying to compose myself, I break eye contact and glance down. But when I see the large bulge in his pants, my composure is anything but regained. My teeth dig into my bottom lip, imagining what his member would look like without the jeans.
