The Will (Magdalene #1)(45)

Then she turned and he got her back.

And Jake didn’t move again.

This was because the vision of her back was making his c**k get hard and he was fighting the feeling.

She was in a dress that was an unusual shade of yellowish-green satin, like the color of an apple. Thin straps, a diagonal neckline that had a flap of material falling down her front. The top fit her snug, accentuating every line and curve. The skirt caught at her hips, somehow turning into panels that ended in a spiked hemline, the spikes brushing her knees.

But the back…

Fuck.

There was no back.

It bared her from shoulders to the top of her ass.

Jesus.

Her hair was up again, this time in curls arranged in a bun at the side of her neck. All Josie, it was elegant. But, unlike Josie, it also was almost playful.

And f**king hot.

Even as much as he liked her hair, he’d prefer to see it as it was in that picture he had of her.

Down.

But not blowing in the breeze.

Spread on his pillow.

And he liked that dress a f**kuva lot but he’d like it more on the floor by his bed.

From top to toe, she was the shit. Maybe especially her toes seeing as their nails were painted f**k-me red and they were exposed in shoes that were a mess of very thin, dark silver straps. So many straps, the f**kers had to be zipped up the back.

And the heel was tall and lethal.

He had no f**king clue how she could walk on those things.

But she did, gracefully this time, no tripping. He watched her do it and he watched her grab her coat from a chair in the hall. This finally spurred him to move.

Which he did, right to her, taking the coat from her.

“Got this, Slick,” he muttered, shaking it out and rounding her to hold it up for her to put on.

Her face appeared startled when she looked over her bared shoulder at him but he looked away from her face, and her bare shoulder, then he couldn’t find anywhere to look because all of it was too good.

Finally, she stuck her arm through the hole, he got her other one in and he settled the shiny silver coat on her shoulders, covering her.

Thank f**k.

He had no idea how he was going to have dinner with her wearing that dress without dragging her to his truck then taking her back to Lavender House and probably f**king her on the floor of the foyer.

Then again, when she’d walked on her classy high-heeled boots, wearing her classy shades, that scarf blowing in the wind yesterday, he’d thought the same thing and he’d managed it.

He’d do it again.

Somehow.

She grabbed her purse and turned to him.

“Ready,” she said softly, her sweet voice as it always was, from the very beginning, cultured but melodic.

“Right,” he muttered and grabbed her hand, moving them to the door. “House locked down?” he asked.

“Yes,” she answered.

“Great.” He was still muttering as he moved her out the door.

He stopped her, released her hand, dug in his pocket for the keys and used his own to lock the door behind them.

Then he grabbed her hand again and walked her to the truck.

“You look nice,” she noted.

“Thanks,” he replied, distracted, thinking about her ass in his truck. More to the point, thinking about reclining his seat and dragging her ass over to his side and what he’d do with it when he got her there.

On this thought, a thought that wasn’t helping him keep his c**k from getting hard, he opened her door for her as she asked, “Where are we going?”

“The Eaves,” he answered, pulling gently at her to maneuver her in his truck.

But she’d stopped dead so he looked at her.

“That’s very expensive, Jake,” she whispered.

“Babe, you’re you,” he replied. “And you’re you in that dress. Where the f**k else would I take you?”

He saw her draw in a soft breath, and that was sexy as f**k too, making him wonder how he could make her do that with his hands, or his mouth, before she luckily took him from this train of thought and pointed out, “You took me to The Shack yesterday morning.”

“And gave you the best omelet in the county.”

“This is probably correct,” she murmured as if to herself, her doing this reminding him she could be cute, which finally made him grin.

“It’s definitely correct. Now get your ass in the truck.”

She looked into the truck and hesitated a second before she put her f**king fantastic shoe on the running board and he put his hands to her waist to heft her up.

He got her ass in the seat and she looked at him. “Thank you. I wasn’t sure I could get up on my own.”

“Well, you’re there, Slick,” he noted.

She opened her mouth to say something but he stepped out of the door, ordering, “Buckle up,” before he slammed it.

He moved around the hood, hauled his ass in at the other side, buckled in and started her up.

He sent them down the lane and did it deciding to get the tough stuff done first.

“I’ll be over tomorrow, first just me to box up Lydie’s stuff, and then some guys are comin’ over. I’ll be around about ten. They’ll be around at eleven. You gotta know what you want done with the den by then, babe. I’ve got a place to store Lydie’s furniture. You want it sold, I’ll get Con on putting it on Craig’s List. You got a use for it and decide you want it back, just let me know.”