Junk Mail(26)

With strong, nimble fingers, he tugs my leggings down to my ankles in one swift pull, taking my panties with them. His chest rumbles with a hum of approval, a hungry fire flickering in his eyes as he takes me in, wetting his lower lip.

“Goddamn.” He groans, shaking his head. “Just as good as I imagined you’d look.”

A flush of pink creeps down my cheeks and chest as he tosses my leggings and panties aside and kisses his way down my hips. It feels too good to be true, and definitely too good to be quiet.

A needy moan escapes my lips. “Fuck, Josh.”

He looks up at me with hooded blue eyes, pressing one finger against his lips. “Let’s not wake anyone up,” he teases, then leans over to nip at the inside of my thigh.

My whole body shudders as his nipping turns to gentle kisses planted everywhere but where I want them. He slides his tongue along my thigh, so close to my center, and I let out a needy whimper, lifting my hips closer to his mouth.

“You’re so perfect,” he whispers against me.

Then, oh so slowly, he parts me with his tongue, getting his first taste. I can’t help but gasp.

“Mmm.” He smiles. “You taste amazing, angel.”

His eyes flicker, their usual sapphire hue deepening to a stormy, sultry blue. And with that, he’s gone, a man laser focused on his mission. His tongue runs expertly along me, lapping up every bit of wetness he can get his mouth on as my back arches into him.

I shudder and buck as he explores me, finding my most sensitive places and lingering there, holding me right at the edge. When he sucks on my clit, I’m done for. My thighs quake as I bite hard on my lower lip, trying to hold in my moans as he flicks his tongue one last time. Then everything within me releases, his name falling off my lips in a constricted sigh as I come undone.

Holy shit. This man may be good with his hands, but with his mouth, he’s next-level extraordinary.

Planting one last gentle kiss on my hip, Josh rejoins me on the top half of the bed, pulling me into the crook of his arm where I can cuddle and catch my breath. The silence between us is warm and comforting, a moment of peace between what just happened between us and the inevitable: talking about it.

“So . . .” Josh finally breaks the silence, and the word lingers between us as he toys with a lock of my hair.

“So.” I grin up at him, my lips quirked. “That was . . . unexpected.”

He shrugs. “What can I say? You’re a little bit addictive, Miss Richards. I had to get a taste.”

Maybe it’s the post-orgasm adrenaline, or maybe it’s the low, husky rumble of his voice, but every inch of me wants to give him a lot more than a taste. I want Josh Hanson to make a four-course meal out of me.

But before I can say a word, I hear Gram call my name from downstairs.

I bolt upright, and Josh does too. Quickly stepping into my panties and then my leggings, I watch with equal parts frustration and desire as Josh adjusts his erection and then opens the door.

“You’d better go check on her,” he says.

“Are you okay?” I ask, moving toward the door.

“Of course.” He nods. “I didn’t do that because I expected something in return, Peyton. You don’t owe me anything.”

I nod once. A small warning bell rings in the back of my head somewhere as I begin to descend the stairs with Josh behind me. Of course I don’t owe him anything. It would be wrong to trade sexual favors for help with my business. Which isn’t what we’re doing here. Is it?

I reach the bottom of the stairs in time to see Gram trying to heave herself up from the bed. “Damn walker’s not close enough to the bed,” she says, reaching for it.

“Here, let me.” I move it closer to her bed where she can grip the handles to help her stand up.

“I didn’t mean to bother you,” she says, frowning. “But I really wanted one of those chocolate mint cookies we bought from the little girl next door.”

I grin at her. “Oh, trust me, I get it. Those things are heavenly.”

Gram toddles off to the kitchen, and I can feel Josh’s gaze on me. When I turn around, he’s standing by the front door, holding his coat.

I join him by the door. “Heading out?”

His chest inflates as he takes in a long, slow breath. “Yeah. I think I should probably go.”

I’m not sure why, but it feels like something has shifted between us in the last few minutes. And I don’t just mean Gram’s untimely interruption. It feels like we’re miles away from the playful banter we just shared about him finding my thong, and I can only assume it’s because he’s thinking the same thing I am.

That it’s probably not a good idea to keep doing this as long as we’re still working together. It’s too dangerous.

“Are you sure you have to go?” I ask.

“I probably should.” He sighs, giving me a reassuring squeeze.

“Because of work stuff?”

He swallows and places one hand loosely against my waist, letting it linger there—like he’s not sure he wants to release me, but he’s also not sure he can claim me. “I’m not thrilled about it either. But if your launch is going to be successful, we need to pump the brakes a bit here. I can’t even think about work when I’m around you. Which would be the greatest thing of all time if we weren’t, you know, working together. I don’t want this to stand in the way of your business succeeding.”