The attention.
The touches.
What he says.
All things I can now see that I wanted Brian to do—all things Breaker does without even asking. It’s almost as if it’s ingrained in him, and he doesn’t need to think about it. It just happens.
“How was your day?” he asks as he grabs two Sprites from the fridge.
“It was fine,” I say, still feeling stiff.
“Just fine?” he asks as he brings the drinks to the table.
“Yeah, nothing too exciting happened.”
“Well, we’ll have to change that,” he says as he grabs plates, and I take the sauce off the stove. “I got this. You go sit down.”
“You don’t have to, Breaker.”
He places his finger under my chin and holds me in place as he says, “I want to.”
Okay, then.
I let him serve us, and when I take a seat, I watch as he rolls up his sleeves, which then plays in my head like some sort of porno from the way his muscly forearm flexes. God, he really is so sexy. Why am I only letting myself notice it now? I mean, I’ve known he’s hot, but the thought has never hit me like this before, like I want to do something about it.
With a plate in each hand, he walks over to the table and sets it down in front of me. He grips the back of my neck and says, “Need anything else?”
“Uh, I don’t think so,” I answer while his palm burns into my skin.
He gives me a light squeeze. “Let me know if you do.”
Before he takes a seat, he scoots his chair closer to mine and then sits down, only to place his hand on my bare thigh.
I nearly choke on my tortellini.
“Problem?” he asks.
“Your, uh, your hand is on my thigh.”
“And . . .”
“Is it supposed to be there?” I ask as I stare at his gorgeous smirk.
“As a matter of fact, it is.” He stabs some tortellini with his fork and sticks it in his mouth.
Okay . . . I guess his hand is on my thigh then.
I turn back to my plate and try not to focus on the way his thumb caresses my skin back and forth slowly. It’s like he’s lulling me into some sort of sex-induced lullaby.
News flash, it’s working.
“Aren’t you going to ask me how my day was?” he asks.
I swallow and take a sip of my Sprite. “How was your day?”
“Pretty good. We had a company-wide meeting to go over the Shoemacher case, and then we fielded questions. It took up a great deal of the day. We split up the questions by department so we didn’t keep people waiting. I was glad to be back in the office.”
“That’s good. You happy?”
