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“Sounds like she’s been a good employee and friend.”
I keep stroking Jo’s back. She’s tracing shapes on mine. We’re both in T-shirts. She’s in her sleep shorts. I’m in my briefs, and the hard length of me is very happily pressed to her thigh. Even better, we’re still talking. Best friends to the core. Talking and tracing, shifting with anticipation, knowing we’ll be doing a heck of a lot more than talking soon.
“I honestly don’t know what I did without Larkin before I hired her,” she says and kisses my neck. “Except she wanted to discuss something about the Barrel this morning. We got sidetracked by you and Jake. If she quits, I might lose my mind at the bar.”
Sandra. The building.Instantly, I want to intervene. Give Jo the out she craves, but I already spoke with Sandra after leaving the tree house. Told her to back off from selling that real estate, and I promised Jo I’d do better. Iwantto do better.
I run my nose through her soft hair, press my lips to her forehead like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “If there’s an issue, let me know. We’ll talk it out.”
“I will.” She nips my collarbone. I hiss out a strained breath. “Maybe she just wants to tell me she’s crushing on someone at the bar and is worried about inter-coworker romances.”
I drag my hands lower, slip them into the waist of her sleep shorts. I find the divots along her lower back and trace the crease in between. Her breath catches.
“Do you two gossip about men?” I ask with my mouth at her ear. “Did you tell her about your feelings for me?”
“There may have been some gushing. Especially after I saw you half naked.” She slides her legs farther around my thigh and rubs against me.
Andfuck. She’s wet and hot. Too good to be true.
I push my hands farther down, take two glorious handfuls of her bare ass. I make a guttural sound I’ve never heard. “Want another viewing?”
“Yes.” One syllable. A pant of breath.
“Only if I get one too.” I’m more rested than I’ve felt in a while, recovered from this morning’s shell-shocks. I’m taking an actual day off, but my muscles are coiled. Bunched with awareness of Jolene. She’s everything I want in a partner—fun, witty, kind, caring. I can cry in front of her and not feel like less of a man. I can tease her. Laugh with her. This intensity between us might short-circuit me, but I don’t care one bit.
Her hands are on my shirt before I can get to hers. She’s pushing the cotton up and over my head. By the time it’s off and tossed to the floor, Jo is leaning over me—a fucking gorgeous view. Cherry-ripe cheeks. Pretty eyelashes lowered. Full lips slightly open.
Her attention fixes on my torso. “Jesus, Cal. You don’t even look real.”
Heat suffuses my face, and I glance away from her. “It’s just a body.”
“Are you serious right now? You know you’re spectacular, right?” When I don’t reply, she brings her hand to my cheek. “Why are you embarrassed?”
I shrug, feeling oddly exposed. I place my hand on her hip. My palm looks huge on her. “Girls didn’t look twice at me growing up. If anything, I was laughed at.” Too-long arms. Lanky build. Confidence of a skittish cat. “Objectively, I know I’m fit. Attracting women hasn’t been hard. Some insecurities never go away, I guess.” I run my thumb over the soft fabric of her shorts. “I care a lot what you think of me.”
She sighs. A soft sound I can’t fully interpret. “Just when I thought I couldn’t fall any harder for you.”
She straddles my lap, taking control.At your disposal, ma’am.My cock is hard and insistent, pressed between her thighs. I hold her down harder, rub her a tiny bit.
“God.” Her eyelids drift closed, then they snap back open. “Quit moving. You’re distracting me from my perusal.”
“Perusal?”
“I was surprised when I saw you shirtless—wasn’t expecting much chest hair.” She runs her fingers through the patch on my chest. “The rest of you is so smooth. I need to soak it all in.”
“Do you like chest hair?”
“According to my body’s reaction right now, I love it. And I really love this tempting trail.” Her fingers dance down my chest, to the finer hairs leading toward my briefs.
I flex my fingers and tense my thighs, but I follow her orders and donotshift a muscle.
Before my eyes roll to the back of my head, she’s on the move again, charting the contours of my pecs, the hard bumps of my abs, the V that is very sensitive right now. “Your hip bones are ridiculous, by the way. And these abs? You should be photographed for a fitness magazine. But…”
Unable to stay still, I rotate my hips the tiniest fraction and barely refrain from tearing off her underwear. “But?”
“If you decided to work out less and eat more, if you were softer under my hands, I wouldn’t be any less attracted to you. The only thing about you that can’t change is this.” She presses her palm over my heart.
That’s it. I’m done for. So far gone for this woman I may as well get her name tattooed on my forehead: Property of Jolene Daniels.
