Okay. Was he still fucking with me?
Or was he reallythataccustomed to his sexual encounters involving two women at once? Like stereotypical rock star slut style?
“Um, we can do three. I’d have to give a little thought to how to fit it all in…”
“I’m kidding.”
Was he? I couldn’t tell. He didn’t even smirk.
I felt the traitorous blush creeping up my face again and cleared my throat. “You seem to like it dark in here. You tacked a blanket up over the window. Hard to enjoy the view that way.”
“Hard to sleep when the sun’s in my eyes.”
“Do you often sleep when the sun’s up?”
“As much as possible.”
“Then I suggest we get in some high-quality blackout curtains that can be opened when you’re not sleeping. And as for the bed, a queen would fit better in this space—”
“It’s gotta be a king,” he said.
“Sure. If you prefer a king. I’ve picked out a few styles for you to choose from.”
I met his eyes again and he just stared at me.
I ducked out and led him back toward the kitchen. “I brought the paint samples for you to look through, too. I’ll leave them with you.” I leaned on the kitchen bar, where my tablet lay, and swiped the screen. “And I have the beds here for you to see.”
I didn’t look up when Ashley moved into place beside me. He leaned on the bar next to me, his shirt sleeve brushing my arm—and tingles skittered all the way up my arm and down my body.
My nipples hardened deliciously. No,torturously.
I shifted subtly away.
My God. I couldn’t remember my body ever responding to a man like this—even when I was in bed with one and very yummy, naked, intimate things were being done to me.
Just standing next to him…
My clit had started throbbing. I was trying to ignore the fact, but that was pretty much impossible.
I’d never had my clit throb during a client meeting before. Definite first.
What the hell would happen if I actually touched him…?
Nope. Not going there.
Professional.
He scrolled through the images of beds I’d collected in the Pinterest board, and I just tried to keep breathing. It was weirdly hard to get it right, standing so close to him. Something that was a primal biological function, totally involuntary, suddenly seemed complicated. My heart rate was definitely up. My breathing was more shallow, yet somehow heavier, all at once.
How to breathe silently, instead of sounding like I was panting in heat?
And how to do it without smelling him? Because the smell of him was driving mecrazy. Like just breathing in his scent was going to make me wet. He didn’t smell like cologne or anything. Just a slight hint of soap and fresh laundry… and hisskin.
God, it sounded so loud when I swallowed. He was gonna think I was drooling.
Maybe I was. Just a little.
I didn’t even need to look at him. He was invading all my senses. I couldfeelmy undeniable attraction to him, threatening to overwhelm me…
