“For Noelle, that’s a tradition. You know that.” He shifts like he wants to step in.
I shift with him. Blocking his view.
“Sorry, I was already asleep.”
Matt pauses, then leans, looking over my shoulder, trying to see past me.
I take a glimpse over my shoulder.Please don’t let Annika be visible.And that’s when I see them.
Her heels. In plain sight.
Just my luck. When things go sideways for this O’Ryan they go off the rails, like not being able to catch the ball consistently.
I turn back just as Matt’s mouth curves into a smile thatlingers like he’s holding back a smart-ass comment. His chin dips. “I’ll tell her you were in bed…asleep.”
“Okay, I’ll see you on the bus.”
He claps my shoulder and after he’s taken a few strides, I close the door and lean against it for a second.
Did Matt just ruin the best thing that’s happened to me in years?
“He’s gone.”
Annika steps out from the corner, her blouse pressed over her chest upside down, her hair slightly wild, her expression somewhere between embarrassed and amused.
“You read to your sister’s kids?” she asks.
I rub my hand down my face, wondering if our moment is over. “Twice on road trips.”
“That’s all it takes. Repetition.”
“Don’t start.”
“Promise me you’ll use the technique every time. Repetition is the key.”
“Okay, I promise.
She approaches me with that same confidence she uses in her office. But her hips are swaying when she presses both palms against my chest and pushes.
I stumble back onto the bed. “Annika.”
She climbs up, settling over me with a mischievous grin.
“I think you owe me a story,’ she says.
I let out a low breath, skin tingling realizing we’re not finished. “I don’t have anything to read.” My brow lifts, teasing.
“No?”
I pull her closer, my voice dropping. “But I can make something up.”
“Improvisation,” she murmurs, her voice seductive.
“Yeah,” I say, brushing my lips beneath her ear letting my words ghost across her skin. “And this one’s going to be a lot more interesting than anything I read to the kids.”
Her fingers tighten around my shirt, pushing it up my chest until I slide out of it. I kiss the valley between her breasts, then flip her over to her back and I go lower, removing her skirt.
She arches into me, fingers threading through my hair. But when I peel that last bit of lace down her legs with reverent hands, she makes a sound—half moan, half plea.
