I gasp,losing hold of my e-reader.
It clatters to the floor…and then I realize with horror that I’m next.
That I’m going to be tumbling to the floor next.
Or face planting.
But that thought is in and out of my head in a heartbeat.
Because even as I start to fall?—
I hear a beep, my motion abruptly cuts off?—
And then I’m in Jace’s arms.
How the fuck am I in Jace’s arms?
And why does it feel so right? Why, instead of fighting his hold, am I melting against his chest, my pulse skittering for a completely different reason aside from fear?
“Sorry,” he says huskily, setting me on my feet, hands holding on to my waist until I’m steady.
Then he turns, reaching up and hitting the stop button on both machines.
The belts slow, stop—same as my pulse.
But that settling doesn’t come quickly enough for my sanity because by the time I’m dropping back into myself, by the time my heart stops beating against my rib cage, my brain starts working again, he’s bent…
And scooped up my e-reader.
With my supremely dirty book open right there on the screen.
“I—”
To my complete and utter horror, he begins reading,
“‘I want to be the one sitting on his lap, want to be the one who so confidently sinks my fingers into those dark blond locks and shoves his gorgeous face into my not-as-nice-as-hers-but-still-fucking-great breasts. Hot breath on my skin. A calloused hand skating along my side. A thick cock pushing home—’”He looks up, grins. “Jesus, gorgeous.” Then keeps reading and clicking and I’m too horrified and shocked to stop him.
“‘Don’t be scared, little spitfire, not now that we’ve finally had some fun.’”Hot eyes tossed in my direction. “I know exactly what kind of fun they’re talking about, cookie.” His voice rumbles as he continues reading the scene—and it’s a good one—out loud, “‘I should threaten to stab you with my keys again.’ He winds an arm around my middle. ‘I might like it if it means you’ll let me feel that tight pussy of yours again.’”His eyes sparkle with mirth…and heat. “Is this where you get your inspiration from?”
What kind of inspiration?
For horizontal fun—or vertical, if it involves a big desk chair and an even bigger dick? Or for my next level snark skills?
Because the correct answer to this is…yes. To both.
To so many things.
Including the many,manyspicy dreams I’ve had about repeating our nighttime adventures—and doing them in the morning, afternoon, or crepuscular hours.
The man has a magic dick.
I knew it, knew it from that first sexy smile he tossed my way.
And I’m no less immune to his charms than I’ve ever been.
The only difference is that I’m finally smart enough to not stick my hand into the flames and get burned by another man.
I set the boundaries.
