Ignite (Cloverleigh Farms #6)(47)

“Bye, Win.”





After work, I went to Pilates class, then headed home. I kept wracking my brain for any valid reason I shouldn’t hit send on that reply to Sandra and coming up short. The pros were obvious, and any possible con was based solely in fear, and I didn’t want to be the sort of person who failed to chase a dream because she was scared.

But pretty soon, my thoughts strayed to Dex. As the water ran down my body, I thought about him in the shower. I wondered what he looked like naked. What his hands would feel like on my skin if he were here right now. What things he might do to me or say to me.

The water was hot, but I shivered.

I still couldn’t believe I’d had the nerve to get on his lap like that, to flirt with him and kiss him and provoke him. I’d felt so strong and brave and sexy. And no, he wasn’t gentle—but every time I thought about him sewing my dress, my heart melted. And I’d been smiling all day about the way he said goodnight, making sure to tell me he didn’t love me.

He was good at making me laugh. Being with him was so easy.

I got out of the shower, aimed the blow dryer at my head for five minutes, and threw on a cropped sweatshirt and shorts. Downstairs, I was hunting in the kitchen for a dinner idea when someone knocked on my door.

My pulse quickened.

Despite the fact that I was supposed to be playing it cool, I pretty much ran toward the door. With my hand on the knob, I forced myself to take a breath and assume a casual expression. Then I pulled it open.

“Hi,” he said, looking unbelievably sexy. His hair was damp and messy, like he’d just gotten out of the shower but hadn’t bothered to comb it. His eyes immediately went to my bare midriff.

“Hey.”

“Don’t worry, I didn’t bring you a Frosty.”

I laughed and wagged my finger at him. “Good.”

“I was wondering if you had any smoked paprika.”

“Smoked paprika? I’m not sure, but come in and I’ll look.”

He followed me back to the kitchen, sending Piglet running for her life. “I decided to test out my new grill with some burgers. The paprika is for the seasoning.”

“That sounds good.” I opened a cupboard door and shuffled some dried herbs and spices around. Spotting some smoked paprika in the back, I grabbed it and set it on the counter. “There you go, neighbor.”

“Thanks. Have you eaten yet?”

“No, I was just about to make dinner.”

“Want to come over? I have plenty. I bought a pound of meat.”

“Come on, you can eat a pound of meat, no problem.” I poked him playfully in his stomach, which was rock hard.

He swatted my hand away and grabbed me by both arms, twisting them behind my back. “What I can do and what I should do are sometimes two different things.”

A hot little spark zipped up my spine. “Oh, are we playing this game again?”

“Does it feel like a game?” His hips anchored mine to the island.

“It feels like you came over here for something other than smoked paprika.”

“Maybe I did.”

“It also feels like I’m being arrested.”

“I’m not a cop.” Clamping one hand around my crossed wrists, he slid the other around to my belly and up the front of my sweatshirt. I wasn’t wearing a bra, and his palm covered one breast. “Right now, I’m not even sure I’m one of the good guys.”

My nipple tingled as he teased it with his fingers, pinching it hard enough to make me gasp. Heat began to pool at my center.

“I’ve been thinking about you all fucking day,” he growled, moving his hand down my shorts, inside my underwear. “About the way you taste. About the way you move. About the sounds you make when I put my tongue right here.” He brushed his fingertips lightly over my clit, and I moaned softly. “Yes,” he whispered. “Like that.”

“What else?” I asked breathlessly. “What else did you think about?”

He eased his fingers inside me. “I thought about how wet you were last night. About my cock inside you. About fucking you.”

My legs were trembling as he moved his fingers in and out of my body, rubbing slow, decadent circles over my clit. I pushed my ass back against him, and he laughed, low and gravelly.

“You want my cock again?” He put his fingers back inside me. “Right here?”

“Yes,” I breathed.

“You have to say it.”

I chewed my lip a second. Could I?

“Say it,” he demanded, his hand going still. “Or I won’t give you what you want.”

“I want your cock again.”

“Say please.” He began to stroke me again.

“Please,” I panted.

“Good girl.” He rubbed me a little harder and faster in just the right spot. “But first you’re going to come—just like this.” He released my arms and I fell forward over the island, my palms flat on the counter. With his free hand, he gathered up my hair in his fist and tightened his fingers, holding my head still. I winced as pain prickled across my scalp, but it was a delicious contrast to the fluttering pleasure building between my legs. The muscles in my lower body began to hum and my core muscles pulled tighter and tighter, the tension thrilling and delicious. My knees buckled as the orgasm pulsed through me.