How to Fail at Flirting(43)
Over his New York strip and my chicken piccata, he told me about a recent trip that went wrong in every way, ending with a fistfight between the CFO and a member of the board of directors. I shared how my newest project involved interviewing fourth graders and that a particularly precocious nine-year-old boy decided I should be his girlfriend and join his kickball team.
“I didn’t realize I had such fierce competition.”
“I’m popular with the under-ten crowd.”
“Did you join the team?”
I laughed, finishing my wine. “I was wearing the wrong shoes.”
“Sounds like the kid had skills, though. I should take notes.”
“Are you asking me to be on your kickball team?”
Jake wiggled his eyebrows. “Maybe. What’s the shoe situation?” He glanced surreptitiously under the table, and I felt his gaze on my bare legs and down to the navy stilettos I’d paired with a white sleeveless dress. It was a quick sweep, only a second or two, but I flushed knowing he was following the lines of my body. I’d spent a long time trying not to be noticed, but this was nice. It was more than nice; it was arousing. He looked back up and subtly shook his head as the waiter began to clear our plates.
I grinned, loving the playful expression on his face. When the waiter stepped away, I responded, “Verdict?”
“Not great for kickball,” he said, his gaze traveling over my legs again, this time with a longer sweep. “But I can think of other games we could play.”
“There’s a joke in there about rounding bases,” I said with a sly smile, enjoying his laugh.
“Let’s get out of here and see.”
We’d barely exited the restaurant when Jake pulled me to him against the brick exterior of the building. His hard chest against my breasts, I gripped his biceps as if holding on for dear life. Maybe I was. The way he searched my face, gaze heating as his hand slid to the back of my head, I was in trouble. My eyes drifted closed, and his mouth was on mine. He tasted like the mints they delivered with our check, his lips and tongue insistently ravaging my own. Vibrations buzzed through my body as the kiss deepened, hunger and passion swirling between us as our tongues danced.
We pulled apart, chests heaving. His voice was gravelly and low. “I’ve wanted to do that since I first saw you.” He slid a hand from my neck down my spine, sending another tingle through my body.
“I guess it’s a good thing we’re not strangers anymore.”
Twenty-five
Jake’s warm breath puffed across the back of my neck as I emerged from sleep to find his body curled around mine, the weight of the comforter surrounding us. Sunlight peeked through the clouds, and I flexed my toes. We’d been up until one in the morning, but I didn’t feel groggy. I felt fresh and new and like a fuller version of my old self.
I padded to the window to admire the spider’s web of quiet streets in the early-morning sunlight. Skimming my fingers over the smooth surface of the glass, I took in the expanse of the view. I’d left my small Iowa town to move to Chicago at eighteen, and it had felt like home ever since. I knew I could live somewhere else if I had to search for a new job, but where would I go? The thought of leaving this city was exhausting.
The bed creaked behind me, and I glanced over my shoulder. Jake, hair pointing in all directions, one eye half-closed, squinted into the light as he stretched and walked to me.
“Good morning,” he rasped, voice thick from sleep, as he wrapped his arms around my naked body.
“Good morning,” I murmured.
Jake dotted kisses over my shoulder, and I let him mold me to him. “Not worried about me seeing you naked this time, huh?”
“I couldn’t find any of your shirts. Did I wake you?”
“I’m usually an early riser. I was pretty tired after last night, though.”
“That’s fair.” My head lolled back as his lips grazed my neck. “You worked hard.”
“It was enjoyable work.” He nipped at my earlobe, his hand sliding down my stomach. “Did you sleep well?”
I marveled at how well we fit together, and I arched into him. “Uh-huh.”
“This is a nice way to wake up.”
“I was thinking the same thing.” I tried to cover my mouth when his lips neared mine. “But, I haven’t brushed my teeth yet.”
He maneuvered in front of my hand, kissing me, taking my top lip between his. “Neither have I.”
Those sweet kisses by the window intensified, and we found ourselves enmeshed in the sheets and pillows again. Unlike the night before, when we’d come together in a frenzy, this time was slow. Every caress, stroke, and thrust melted into the next until it all crescendoed.
Resting my head on his shoulder, I caught my breath. My torrent of pleasure ebbed, and we rested in a cozy huddle until he jerked away, surprising me.
“I forgot,” he said, climbing off the bed while I looked on, confused. “I brought you something.”
“A present?” I propped myself on my elbows.
He handed me an envelope-sized package wrapped in plain brown paper with a pink ribbon around it. “I meant to give it to you last night but got distracted.”
I took the package, glancing between him and the gift. “You brought me a present just because?” I asked again, awed.