Inside, there’s likely a couple more balls of dough and sure enough, he takes one out, dusting the counter with flour, and rolls out another pizza crust for our surprise guest.My would-be boyfriend now stands next to me.He’s going to kiss me.But will it be a peck on the cheek or on the lips?
The memory of our last kiss slams into my body like a lightning bolt.That kiss was electric and wild.
Leaning in, he cups my cheeks and plants a soft, warm kiss on my mouth and even with closed mouths, a thrill runs through me, piling on to my already hazy state.I stand speechless while Mom beams, fussing over Zach and making room for him at the counter.All the while, he steals sideways glances at me.
I’ve got nothing.
My lips tingle.
I’m dazed.
Mom peppers him with questions about what he likes on his pizza, how was the drive from Toronto—only he didn’t drive like us mere mortals, or even take the train, he flew in his private jet.What the hell?—and through it all, I stare dumbly at them, still at a complete loss for words.
“Paige, why don’t you get Zach a glass of wine?”she asks.“You like chianti, don’t you?”
“Yes, but I’d like some water right now.”He drops his hand on top of mine.“I’ll get it, just point me in the direction.”
Ocean-blue eyes bore into me and I struggle to get the synapses of my brain firing again.If only I could form a cohesive sentence.His intimate gaze causes a strange fluttering in my stomach.
“Here you go.”Sam plunks a bottle of water down beside him.
“Thanks.”Zach takes a long swig from the bottle and my mom smiles at me, her eyes shimmering in delight.“This looks great.Homemade pizza.”
“Yes.And here’s yours.”Mom places the stone in front of him.“Hmmm.You can’t fix your pizza in a suit.Do you want to change?Oh, or I could get you an apron.”
She turns on her heel and he grabs her elbow lightly, halting her crusade for something to save his expensive Savile Row attire.
“Olivia, don’t go to any trouble.I’m fine in my suit.”His shoulder presses into my arm and he leans in conspiratorially.So close his expensive cologne hits my nostrils.“Or nothing at all.”
His lips graze the shell of my ear and his warm breath tickles the column of my neck.I shiver and squeeze my thighs together, trying to quell the burning need within.
What has gotten into him?He’s all Mr.Flirty.It isn’t like Zach can’t be charming and flirtatious.He can—I’ve seen it and even been on the receiving end.But this is blatant.
And then I get it.
He’s my boyfriend.For the benefit of my parents he’s playing the part and doing a bang-up job.So much so, my mother is blushing and swooning at our heads only inches apart.
“Oh, let me get a picture.Stay like that.”Mom snatches her phone from the island.Sam stands behind her making funny faces and Zach takes me in his arms like it’s where I belong.
The excitement of his arrival finally wanes, and things settle down.He washes his hands, ready to make his pizza, and returns to my side with his shirt sleeves now rolled up to his elbow.
Strong muscled forearms flex and ripple while he dresses his pie and I stare, licking my lips.I’m unable to swallow with the sudden dryness in my mouth.Until now, I never had a thing for arms.But Zach’s…
Taut, corded, and veined.
Arm porn.
Damn.
The vision I feast on is jilling off material.
Biting my lip, I pinch my eyes shut and will myself to look elsewhere when I open again.The struggle is real.
“Hey, you okay?”Zach asks, his voice almost a whisper.“You need help with your pizza?”
My gaze snaps to his face, refusing to look down at the counter and his arms.“Um, I usually do whatever Sam does,” I blurt out, sounding like a child, or worse, a brainless wonder.
“What?”
