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She pulled the pen from her ear. “That’s weird.”
He laughed. “Come on, Summers. Surely you can take a compliment.” He climbed up on the ladder and went back to painting. “I mean, I don’t freak out when you stare at my ass.”
Caught! She shifted her eyes to the contract but couldn’t concentrate on a word of it, and her eyes sought him again.
“I know about your father because I follow sports. I just didn’t put your Winters together with all of theirs until I saw Rocco at the hospital.” He glanced over his shoulder at her and caught her staring at his ass again. “Hey, you can stare at my ass all you want. No reason to blush on my account.”
That was it. She’d totally lost her edge. She gathered her things. “I can’t work here.” She rose to her feet as he climbed down the ladder. “Don’t stop on my account. I just…I have to go or I’ll never finish my work.”
She felt the heat of him behind her before his arms circled her waist.
“Thank you for sticking around for a few minutes.” He kissed her neck, and goose bumps rose on her flesh. “Maybe tomorrow night you’ll actually talk to me.”
She closed her eyes for a beat to think, but his breath swept over her neck, distracting her. “Dylan,” she pleaded. “I can’t lose any more time.”
He turned her in his arms and smiled down at her. He smelled fresh and manly, and surprisingly familiar. “Okay. Thanks for hanging out.”
He took her hand, and she said, “I can let myself out.”
“Not a chance.” He grabbed the boxes of chocolate and her purse—how did she forget that? He really had her head in the clouds. It was a good thing she was leaving. “I’ll walk you home.”
“Dylan, really, this is sill—”
He smothered her complaint in a delicious kiss, quieting her thoughts and amping up her heart rate again. When their lips parted, they stared at each other for a long moment, the air between them sparking with heat.
“Work,” she mumbled to try to get her brain to function. “I need to go get some work done.”
He gave her a chaste kiss and his arm circled her waist. “You’re adorable when you’re not trying to be a big bad sports agent. Come on, Summers. Let’s get you home.”
This time, when they reached her apartment and he kissed her good night, she kissed him back. She opened the door and he handed her the chocolates.
“You really need to stop sending me things. I’m not a flower girl or a chocolate girl.”
He leaned against the doorframe, his shorts hanging dangerously low. He looked casual and seductive without even trying, while her insides were tying themselves into double knots.
“Tell me, Summers, what kind of girl are you?”
She held his gaze, trying to ignore the nerves twisting her stomach. He’d asked her a question she didn’t know the answer to. She was pretty sure he didn’t want to hear,The type of girl who wins multimillion-dollar contracts and never loses a client.
“Honestly?”
“Preferably,” he said kindly.
“I’m not really sure anymore.” A pang of hurt accompanied her confession, along with a flash of embarrassment.
He pushed from the doorframe and pulled her close again. “You didn’t even blush when we did all those dirty things together, but you’re blushing now. That was hard for you to admit, wasn’t it?”
She sort of shrugged, or at least she thought she did.
“Thank you for trusting me.” He kissed her softly and his fingers played with the ends of her hair in another intimate touch. “Don’t worry, Summers. We’ll figure it out together.”
“Dyl—” She stopped herself from saying they were done, because the look in his eyes mirrored the emotions bubbling up from deep within her. Like it or not, they weren’t done. Not even close.
Chapter Ten
TIFFANY FLEW OUT the door late and flustered Tuesday morning, and nearly stepped on a white paper bag on her welcome mat. She peeked inside and her heart did another happy dance at the sight of an enormous chocolate glazed doughnut inside—her favorite—and a note from Dylan.Hoping this hits your sweet spot. D.
She had his phone number from the first day he’d sent her flowers. She dug it out of her purse and texted him on the way to the elevator instead of calling because she really needed to get through the sponsorship contract and the next few days of meetings without distractions. And everything about Dylan was a major distraction. If she saw his face, she’d want to see the rest of him, and that would lead to hours of deliciously erotic downtime she couldn’t afford.
