foolish. It wasn’t like her breasts were hanging out or anything. But he was a relative stranger for Pete’s sake, and here she was in next to nothing having breakfast with him one day after they’d met. This was so not her norm.
He, on the other hand, seemed right at home and she wondered how often he did this. She wasn’t brave enough to broach the subject though, but now that she thought of it, she could well imagine that someone who looked like him had women flocking all over him. Even if she were interested, which she wasn’t, she assured herself, he wasn’t for her.
She buttered the toast, keeping a wary eye on him, but he was going about his omelet making as if this were something they’d done a million times before. His ass really was something special the way it fit those jeans though. She berated herself for her wandering mind and promised to keep her eyes and her thoughts above the belt from now on.
She felt like a cat ready to spring, and each time he got too close she held her breath waiting. And he did it a lot. If she didn’t know better, she’d think he was crowding her on purpose, and his touch. Since when, was an innocent brush of skin against skin so…so erotic? It was the book she was writing, had to be. She’d never had such strong reactions to anyone before and he hadn’t even really done anything. But it sure felt like he was. She took one last quick look and turned away.
Dammit, did the outline behind his zipper get bigger? Mercy! She all but whimpered in her throat. “Let’s eat.” She almost jumped out of her skin thinking he’d caught her at it again. She’d be mortified if she were caught staring at his junk again twice in as many days.
She swallowed and tried to get the sudden dryness from her mouth with not much luck. In one day, make it two; he’d turned her life upside down. Things she’d never even thought about before, were now, front and center in her mind. It would be so much easier if she could really blame it on her writing, but she knew better. Her eyes landed on his zipper again when he turned to leave the room with plates in hand and she became flushed.
What the hell has gotten into you Kerryanne? For crap sake get a grip. She hadn’t looked at anything male since high school, not even with innocent appreciation, always thinking it was somehow disrespectful to the boy she’d married.
She’d been so stupidly comfortable in the life she’d mapped out for herself, so secure in her own little universe, that there had never been a need to. Good girls didn’t look, and she was ever the good girl wasn’t she?
She certainly didn’t need to be looking now either. Unless she was one of those fool women who grew addicted to a certain kind of mistreatment. She’d read about stuff like that, women who had become programmed to abuse of one kind or another and was always searching it out, whether knowingly or not.
“You coming?” She followed him to the table and sat where he placed her trying her best to remain composed. It was too damn early in the morning for this. She was already flustered and it wasn’t even nine o’clock yet. He sat her and pushed in her chair before taking his own seat and pouring them both juice.
“How’s the writing coming?” He picked up his fork and dug into his eggs. Those arms, shit.
“Fine I guess.” She tensed up waiting for the blow, the condescending and derogatory remarks she’d grown accustomed to. Why was he such a confusing mix of hot sex object and arbiter of disaster?
“You plan on doing anything with it when it’s done or are you just playing around?” She shoveled a forkful of fluffy eggs into her mouth to avoid answering the question, but she should’ve known it wouldn’t be that easy.
He looked at her as he waited for her to swallow. She reached for her cup and took a healthy swig of coffee. “I’m not sure yet.” She lied to avoid any farther discussion on the matter. She could feel his eyes boring
He, on the other hand, seemed right at home and she wondered how often he did this. She wasn’t brave enough to broach the subject though, but now that she thought of it, she could well imagine that someone who looked like him had women flocking all over him. Even if she were interested, which she wasn’t, she assured herself, he wasn’t for her.
She buttered the toast, keeping a wary eye on him, but he was going about his omelet making as if this were something they’d done a million times before. His ass really was something special the way it fit those jeans though. She berated herself for her wandering mind and promised to keep her eyes and her thoughts above the belt from now on.
She felt like a cat ready to spring, and each time he got too close she held her breath waiting. And he did it a lot. If she didn’t know better, she’d think he was crowding her on purpose, and his touch. Since when, was an innocent brush of skin against skin so…so erotic? It was the book she was writing, had to be. She’d never had such strong reactions to anyone before and he hadn’t even really done anything. But it sure felt like he was. She took one last quick look and turned away.
Dammit, did the outline behind his zipper get bigger? Mercy! She all but whimpered in her throat. “Let’s eat.” She almost jumped out of her skin thinking he’d caught her at it again. She’d be mortified if she were caught staring at his junk again twice in as many days.
She swallowed and tried to get the sudden dryness from her mouth with not much luck. In one day, make it two; he’d turned her life upside down. Things she’d never even thought about before, were now, front and center in her mind. It would be so much easier if she could really blame it on her writing, but she knew better. Her eyes landed on his zipper again when he turned to leave the room with plates in hand and she became flushed.
What the hell has gotten into you Kerryanne? For crap sake get a grip. She hadn’t looked at anything male since high school, not even with innocent appreciation, always thinking it was somehow disrespectful to the boy she’d married.
She’d been so stupidly comfortable in the life she’d mapped out for herself, so secure in her own little universe, that there had never been a need to. Good girls didn’t look, and she was ever the good girl wasn’t she?
She certainly didn’t need to be looking now either. Unless she was one of those fool women who grew addicted to a certain kind of mistreatment. She’d read about stuff like that, women who had become programmed to abuse of one kind or another and was always searching it out, whether knowingly or not.
“You coming?” She followed him to the table and sat where he placed her trying her best to remain composed. It was too damn early in the morning for this. She was already flustered and it wasn’t even nine o’clock yet. He sat her and pushed in her chair before taking his own seat and pouring them both juice.
“How’s the writing coming?” He picked up his fork and dug into his eggs. Those arms, shit.
“Fine I guess.” She tensed up waiting for the blow, the condescending and derogatory remarks she’d grown accustomed to. Why was he such a confusing mix of hot sex object and arbiter of disaster?
“You plan on doing anything with it when it’s done or are you just playing around?” She shoveled a forkful of fluffy eggs into her mouth to avoid answering the question, but she should’ve known it wouldn’t be that easy.
He looked at her as he waited for her to swallow. She reached for her cup and took a healthy swig of coffee. “I’m not sure yet.” She lied to avoid any farther discussion on the matter. She could feel his eyes boring
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