All Summer Long (Fool's Gold #9)(47)

“Don’t do what?”

“Face me. I’m not ready.”

“It’s just a penis. You’ve seen them before.”

“The last one attacked me.”

“Mine is more well mannered.” His voice sounded as if he were amused.

She glared at his back. “Are you laughing? This isn’t funny.”

“It’s a little funny.”

She tightened her grip on his arms. “I could leave a bruise, mister.”

“You could, but you won’t. You’re going to have to look at me eventually.”

“Not necessarily. We could do it in the dark.”

“Where’s the fun in that? I like looking. Did I ever tell you my ass was insured for five million dollars? It was for the vodka campaign.”

The switch in topic had her stepping back and studying the body part in question. While she hadn’t seen that many, she had to admit Clay’s was by far the best. High, tight, muscled. He had dimples and long powerful legs.

“Would you get any of the money?” she asked. “If something had happened?”

“Nope. It would go to the company.”

She put her hand on his hip. “You don’t have any tattoos.”

“I don’t like needles. Hug me again, Charlie. I like how that feels.”

She drew in a breath, then moved closer, again pressing her front to his back. As she was fully clothed, she couldn’t feel his skin against hers, but knowing he was naked still seemed to change everything.

She placed her hands on his belly, one above the other and tried not to think about what was below. To distract herself, she lightly kissed him on his left shoulder blade. She liked how that felt, so she did it again.

“Nice,” he murmured. “You could take your shirt off. Maybe your bra.”

She considered the offer. She would like to feel her br**sts pressing against him. “Okay, but you won’t turn around.”

“Not even if it kills me.”

She pulled off her T-shirt and quickly unfastened her bra. She hung both over the back of the kitchen chair, then eased up behind him, sliding her hands around his body. Then she leaned close, her br**sts nestling into his back.

She returned to kissing him as she had before, only this time she also moved her chest back and forth, dragging her ni**les against his skin. The friction aroused her, making her breathing more shallow and igniting heat between her thighs. She added little nips to the kisses, biting gently, then soothing that spot with her tongue.

A shudder rippled through him. His muscles tensed then relaxed. Knowing she was playing with fire but unable to resist, she eased her hands to his hips and slid partway down.

When she stopped, Clay swore.

“Charlie.”

Her name came out as a growl. Rather than frightening her, his need gave her courage. She moved her right hand toward his erection. She’d barely moved an inch when his fingers covered hers and he guided her into place.

She closed her hand around his penis. He was big and thick, plenty hard. She explored the length of him, circling her fingers over the tip, before sliding back to the base. Instead of fear or even apprehension, all she felt was desire. Wanting made her tremble and when she thought about him turning and pushing into her, her breath caught in her throat.

She straightened, prepared to turn him to face her, when his cell phone rang. The sharp high notes of his ringtone cut through the silence.

“Ignore it,” Clay told her.

“Gladly.”

She released him and stepped back, then put her hand on his arm. He shifted toward her. She kept her gaze on his face, determined to stay in the mood and not get scared. The passion in his eyes thrilled her. He might have taken her on as a project, but he was a man who was enjoying his work.

He held out his arms and she went into them eagerly. She raised her head, desperate for his kiss, his touch. Her phone rang.

Charlie drew in a breath. “Someone thinks it’s important,” she said and turned to grab her phone.

“Hello?”

“Charlie? It’s Shane. Is Clay there?”

“He is. Just a second.”

She handed over the phone. “Shane.”

As Clay took the receiver, she retrieved her shirt and pulled it on, then she leaned against the counter and waited, hoping nothing really awful had happened. There were only a handful of reasons Clay’s brother would have chased him down and very few of them were good.

“You’re sure?” Clay asked, after listening for about a minute. “It’s not a mistake?”

He swore under his breath. “I’ll be right there.” He pushed the end button on her phone and handed it to her.

“Sorry. There’s a problem at the ranch. I have to go.” As he spoke, he pulled up his briefs and then slipped on his jeans.

She watched him dress, aware she was disappointed rather than relieved. A win for her, although she was sorry Clay had to deal with something difficult.

He gave her a quick kiss. “I’ll call you,” he promised as he jogged to the front door.

Then he was gone.

She stood alone in the kitchen, aware the “I’ll call you” statement hadn’t been part of their deal. She assured herself it was an automatic response. It wasn’t as if she and Clay were involved on an emotional level. Still, she found herself glancing at the phone and wondering when that call would occur.