‘I’m good, thanks,’ I said lightly. Tugging the banner free from his grasp, I lifted myself onto the chair.
George let out a soft curse, his hands immediately flying to my waist. A shot of heat scorched through my body. I muffled the involuntary gasp that fled my lips, feeling his hands on me.
‘You’re gonna kill yourself.’ His fingers pinched the exposed skin of my waist. I had to fight back a moan.
Mentally shaking my head, I scoffed. ‘By hanging a birthday banner? You’re being dramatic.’
‘And you’re standing on the very edge of the chair.’
My head dropped to see my heels perched on the edge, toes nearly hanging off. If the hands gripping my waist weren’t as tight, I’d have no doubt toppled off by now.
I shuffled back to the centre. ‘Better?’
‘No. Get down.’
Ignoring him, I lifted the banner to the corner of the archway. It would be the first thing you saw when you came through the front door. I pressed it to the plaster and let out a frustrated grumble.
‘Shit. I forgot the hooks. Could you grab them for me? They’re on the counter.’ I pointed over to the kitchen where the box and all the other stuff we hadn’t put away yet sat in a messy cluster.
I looked down to see George staring up at me like I’d lost my mind. ‘Only if you come down.’
I tamped down my frustration. ‘We’re wasting time. They’re gonna be here any minute. Please just get them.’
He wavered for a second, glancing between me and thecounter. ‘Don’t fucking move,’ he grumbled. I held up two fingers to my head.
‘Yes, sir.’
His hands on my waist flexed. A darkness crossed over his eyes at those words that had me nearly tumbling straight off the chair and into his arms.
Reluctantly, he let go of me and stepped away, keeping a careful eye on me the entire time.
When he was satisfied I wasn’t going to topple over, he sighed and went looking for the removable hooks I’d brought.
‘You didn’t answer my question.’
‘What question?’
‘Do you like your birthday?’
His eyes darted back to me every few seconds as he searched. ‘I don’t hate it.’
‘That’s a double negative. And doesn’t count as a proper answer,’ I quipped.
He lifted his shoulder in a half shrug. ‘I’m thirty-five. Had a lot of birthdays. Don’t really care about them, but don’t hate them either.’
The banner grew heavy the longer I stood on the chair. Deciding to shift it to my left hand to give my right a break, I lifted it high in the air, overestimating my ability to balance. My legs wobbled on the chair and that was all it took for my centre of gravity to shift.
‘Fuck!’ I cried out as my hands dropped the banner in favour of saving myself, flailing desperately out in front of me to grasp hold of anything that could save me from face planting the wooden floor.
My legs buckled, and a scream lodged in my throat as I pitched forward. Inches from the floor, two hands quickly grabbed me by the waist and pulled me off the side. A lowgrunt sounded from just below as both our bodies landed with a thud on the ground.
Instead of the hard wooden floor, I was lying right on top of George. He’d tucked me tightly against his chest, taking the brunt of the fall.
‘I told you not to fucking move.’ His breathing was laboured as he clutched me so hard, his fingers would leave indents in my skin. The thought of having him lingering on my body like that sent a shiver down my spine.
‘Ibarelymoved.’ Instead of sounding convincing, my voice came out breathy and small.
My thighs were draped over his, my breasts pressing against his pecs. I’d never been more aware of my body than I was right now.
