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“I did?”
I try to correct myself, but he shakes his head.
“To the right. Down. Just shift slightly to the right—no, not that much.”
He tries to give me direction. I follow, but he doesn’t seem to be happy with what I’m doing.
“Here,” he says, getting up from his seat and walking over to me.
Rob kneels in front of me and places his hands on my shoulders. The calluses are coarse against my skin as he angles me just right. I look up at him and am startled by the intensity in his eyes. My chest rises, forcing my nipples to brush against the cotton of his shirt. His hands squeeze my shoulders, and I shiver.
That hedonistic, daring mouth that spews the meanest and sweetest things is so close to mine. I smell the musk of his masculine scent and revel in the way his body makes my skin feel. Warm, empowered.
I imagine him kissing me. I can almost taste the mint of his tongue and harsh feel his hands tugging at my hair. If I were seated anywhere else, I’d adjust my hips because the pressure mounting between them is palpable.
Rob leans forward just a touch. His eyes darken as he stares at my mouth. I let my tongue peek out and dart across my lower lip, and my teeth bite down, causing him to let out a deep, low, gravelly sound.
It’s not a grunt of annoyance.
It’s a prayer.
His hand dances up the side of my neck, and I shiver at the contact. His thumb traces a tender line up my vein. Its featherlight touch is overpowered by the roughness on his palm, touching me with tenderness.
My breath hitches. A subtle gasp escapes my mouth, betraying the fluttering excitement within my body. The proximity between us is too close for a clothed man, and a woman radiating with sexual energy. He must sense my desire. It’s ripe in the air and pouring off of my body.
He dips his head ever so slightly, closing the gap. Our breaths mingle, the teasing praise of a kiss scorching the air and setting fire to the moment.
It’s now or never.
We have to decide whether we jump into it or douse the flames before we scorch the earth.
“Dad!” Molly calls, and we jump up.
“Shit,” he says, and I know he’s not worried about her seeing his art room. He’s concerned about the half-naked woman he was sketching.
“Go. I’ll get dressed and lock the door.”
He sprints out of the room, and I’m left alone. My bra and shirt are put on quickly, but I take a moment to see what he was drawing. It’s not nearly done, and yet it’s gorgeous.
My breasts are defined with great detail. He is beyond talented.
I look down at the table beside where he was sitting. Torn sketch papers peek out of a pile. There’s a familiar stone structure on it that has me pulling the paper out of the pile. It’s a rendering of the castle, the same building we’ve been restoring. Behind it is another and yet another, all of Rob’s plans to re-create the tower into a private space.
Now, I have his plan. If I put enough effort into it, I might just be able to make it happen.
CHAPTERSEVENTEEN
I’m in my room in my apartment. Usually, I’d be asleep, but I’ve been tossing and turning tonight. My body has become accustomed to the quiet of the ranch through the week, and now, my apartment in Newbury feels too loud.
My body is also becoming used to being around Rob. Wanting him in more ways than I should. Yes, he’s attractive, and I’d love to jump into bed with him. He’s shown signs he’s interested too. And yet he has a way of putting up that steel curtain.
If I could solder it down, I would.
Unfortunately, I don’t have the tools to do so.
Yesterday was a prime example. After our near kiss in the art room, I would have sworn the electricity between us would be sizzling. It was the complete opposite. Business as usual and a bite to his voice. It’s as if nothing ever happened.
Maybe it didn’t. Maybe my flight-of-fancy mind is conjuring up romantic scenarios.
