I turn, frowning. My head tries to liquify into a whirlpool, but I ignore it. “You looked at what’s on there? Invasion of privacy, much?”
He stops a few feet away, slips his hands into the hip pockets of his jeans, and shrugs. How does a mere human get a chest so impressive? And biceps? And forearms? And thighs? What would it be like to have those thighs between mine as we move together on his bed?
“I’ve been dealing with my own invasion of privacy of late,” he says, jerking me back from the dirty contemplation.
Returning my camera to the table, I narrow my eyes. “So you reallydidthink I was paparazzi? Why?”
He studies me for a heartbeat. “You have no clue who I am?”
My next sexual adventure?
“My hero?” I say.
He laughs in return, and I want to soak in the warm, relaxed sound. “You probably wouldn’t have been attacked by your camera if I didn’t yell at you.”
A tingle of contented warmth licks through me. Damn, I like talking with him. I grin. “Well, there is that.”
He cocks his head, a quizzical smile tugging his lips. “Can I ask, do I detect an American accent? Or Canadian?” Rubbing at the back of his neck, he lets out a soft snort. “I’m sorry for not knowing the difference.”
“American.” A tight knot twists in my stomach, as it always does when something makes me think of my father. “But I’ve lived here since I was sixteen.”
“I like it.” His Adam’s apple jerks up and down his throat, and he shakes his head. “Sorry. That probably sounds?—”
“Thank you,” I say, taking a step toward him. Drawn towards him, more like it. I want to slide my palms up his chest, bury my fingers in his hair and kiss him until?—
A giddy wave crashes over me, and I wince and stumble back a step. My knee collides with the arm of the chair, and I drop into it, letting out a hitching yelp as the shock vibrates through my body into my head.
He’s crouching in front of me before I realize it, worry eating up his face. “Alright, Waverly,” he murmurs, gently tucking a strand of my hair behind my ears, his eyes searching mine. “I’m taking you to the Hartley Ridge doc. She owes me a favor, and I’m worried about your concussion. That okay?”
I open my mouth to say,Okay. That’s the sensible thing to do. Let’s go.
But instead, what comes out is, “I’d rather stay here. With you.”
Chapter Five
Jake
Fuck, I want this woman.
The longer she’s with me, the harder it is to keep my hands off her. Every time I look at her, my body screams at me to take her. To spread her wide on my bed and make her come over and over, with my fingers, my mouth, my cock. Taking her into town was as much for me as for her. I don’t know how much longer I can control myself.
Relax, man. And get a grip.
“Are you sure?” I ask.
She looks back at me, her eyes clear and direct. “I’m sure. I’m pretty tough. Normally. Kinda embarrassed my own camera knocked me out. Unless it reallywasyou.” She tilts her head to the side and gives me a mischievous smile. “Are yousureyou’re not a psychopath?”
Wriggling my eyebrows at her, I let out a low, melodramatic laugh. “You’ve busted me.”
She laughs, and I grind my teeth to stop myself capturing the amazing sound with a kiss.
I jolt to my feet instead, half turning toward my kitchen. “Are you hungry?” I need to distract my brain. To keep my mind on something else apart from her. “Do you eat meat? I make a mean spinach and beef cannellini.”
“I am.” Her lips curl in a smile that sinks straight to my balls. It’s part shy, part playful. “And I definitely eat meat.”
My cock throbs in my jeans, and I clench my fist. I need to get my head out of the gutter. Snatching up the TV remote, I place it on the side table next to her. “I think you need to relax for a bit. Find something to watch.”
Her eyebrows dip, and she rises from the chair. “I enjoy cooking. Let me help. Please?”
