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Before she went downstairs to wait for him, she sprayed some perfume on her wrists and neck, the sweet aroma filling her senses.
They shouldn’t be doing this. Whateverthisturned out to be. And yet the knowledge that he’d risk everything to come see her lit her up like a damn Christmas tree.
It was wrong. Forbidden. She’d never wanted anything more.
When the doorbell rang at eight, her heart almost leapt into her throat. She wanted to run to the door, yank it open. Throw herself into his arms. But she kept it cool, fluffing her hair as she slowly walked down the hallway, taking her time to turn the knob and open the door.
And there he was. In a white shirt and dark pants. His hair was still damp from what must have been a shower. There was a smile curling at his lips as he looked down at her, taking in the silk blouse and black shorts, and hopefully her long, taut legs. Smooth from her shower, lightly tan from the summer sun. Aching to feel his thigh pressed between them.
“I brought food,” he said, and her body reacted to his voice. Her nipples tightened, her thighs clenched.
She grinned. “I was kidding. I could have made you a sandwich.”
He offered her the brown bag. “Actually, it is a sandwich. And an apple.”
She laughed as she took it from him. “Come in. Would you like a drink?”
“Not really.”
“Let me at least put this sandwich away.”
Her hips swayed as she led him down the hallway to the kitchen. And she was thankful he couldn't see her grin.
“So, what changed your mind?” she asked him. “I thought we weren’t supposed to talk to each other.”
“That was before today. And the other night with Sabrina.”
Her face flushed at the memory of his kisses.
“Where does everybody think you are?” She put the brown bag with the sandwich into the refrigerator. She was tickled that he’d made it. Following her instructions, but not really.
Weird how she liked that.
“Meeting an old friend for dinner.”
“Didn’t they wonder why you were making a sandwich?”
He laughed. “I’m a big man. I can eat two meals without blinking. They wouldn’t think it’s strange at all.”
She turned to look at him. He really was glorious. Every part of him exuded masculine certainty. From the way he looked at her to the way he talked.
He knew she wanted him. The way she’d climbed him like a tree at his house was enough of a clue.
And from the way he was staring at her breasts in this tank, he also wanted her.
“I parked down the road,” he told her. “So nobody will talk.”
“Our little secret,” she whispered.
He lifted a brow. “Something like that.” He reached out, traced a line from her jaw to her clavicle. Dipped his finger beneath her silky tank to discover she wasn’t wearing a bra.
“Fuck.”
“That’s the plan,” she murmured. His touch was so sure. Every inch of her body responded to him.
He flicked one strap down her arm, then lowered his mouth to kiss her bare shoulder. Then he pushed the other strap, her tank resting on the swell of her breasts. He cupped them through the silk, his thumbs brushing her nipples and pleasure pooled deep in her belly.
He looked up at her, his eyes hazy. “You’re so beautiful.”
