Read Online Raspberry Crush by Jill Winters - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Jill Winters
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flew up. He was still grinning at her. Yes, definitely a psycho.
Still, she smiled briefly at him. "I know—this is awful," she said, and noticed his green eyes sparkle. They really were so clear and beautiful... in fact, his face wasn't bad, either. Tiny lines of age around his mouth and eyes, with brown hair that had hints of gray running through it. Corryn guessed he was in his forties, but he was better built than any forty-something she knew.
Swallowing hard, she darted her gaze out the window at blackness streaming past as her heart rate kicked up.
She suddenly felt acutely self-conscious, like maybe this man was still watching her, and how did she look to him? She felt on display and a little nervous, because the guy was so damn attractive—an atypical observation on her part, but then, it was bound to happen every so often. The fact that she pretty much hated men right now didn't mean they couldn't still fluster her sometimes.
Now she could hear the choppiness of her breathing as her body and mind zeroed in on the man beside her. She was too aware of his close proximity, too intrigued by his size, and too paranoid, because she could literally feel his powerful presence. Were those ice-green eyes still on her?
Just forget it, she told herself. Focus on real-life stuff. Like her schedule—what did she have left to do today? Oh, right, after a few more appointments and some paperwork, she'd eat dinner alone in front of the TV, then check her e-mail, find her inbox flooded with spam, and be in bed before most fifth graders. Yeah, her real life was just rolling right along.
The handsome guy next to her shifted his stance, bringing him a fraction closer. In response, Corryn's stomach muscles pulled tight and the breath hitched in her throat. Her heart was beating frantically. She was so edgy and nervous and over nothing! God, why did she have to be so bad with men and relationships? And why did she have to let it get to her?
Sometimes she wondered if Kane had ruined her for love. Then again, maybe she'd always been screwed-up, and he'd just made things worse. Not that he was abusive—just anal, critical, and pathologically dishonest. And rather than use direct insults, he'd made passive-aggressive remarks that even a toddler could see through. Yeah, he was really something special, Corryn thought, and on top of everything, he left me.
Suddenly the train jerked to another jarring stop, and the doors to her left flew open. Instead of people getting off, more just piled on. Shifting her body, she attempted to get "comfortable," but of course it was impossible. Not only was she sweaty, bitter, and short on breathable air, she was squished beyond belief, and could no longer reach the handrail.
"Christ," she mumbled, just as the man next to her—who must've sensed her frustration—said, "Here, hold on to me," and set his hand gently on the middle of her back. Corryn jumped at the contact, but grabbed on to his arm anyway, because she was about to fall over. Now he was practically enveloping her, holding her back steadily and warmly with one hand, while she held on to his other arm.
As the T rocked and swayed, Corryn felt confused. Her body was on full sensory alert; she was clutching on to a total stranger and honestly didn't want to let go.
As the train shook, her hip brushed against his thigh and he pressed more firmly on her back. A jolt of heat speared straight to her crotch. Insanity, she thought, taken aback by the sudden attraction.
It had been so long since she'd been touched by a man—so long since she had truly, deeply wanted to be. The guy next to her had to be releasing pheromones like crazy; it was the only logical explanation.
Sharply, she pulled away from him. A look of sudden confusion crossed his face. "I'm fine now," Corryn said by way of explanation, smiling politely and pretending she was having no trouble balancing as the T bumped and swayed. She had to collect herself and get back in
Still, she smiled briefly at him. "I know—this is awful," she said, and noticed his green eyes sparkle. They really were so clear and beautiful... in fact, his face wasn't bad, either. Tiny lines of age around his mouth and eyes, with brown hair that had hints of gray running through it. Corryn guessed he was in his forties, but he was better built than any forty-something she knew.
Swallowing hard, she darted her gaze out the window at blackness streaming past as her heart rate kicked up.
She suddenly felt acutely self-conscious, like maybe this man was still watching her, and how did she look to him? She felt on display and a little nervous, because the guy was so damn attractive—an atypical observation on her part, but then, it was bound to happen every so often. The fact that she pretty much hated men right now didn't mean they couldn't still fluster her sometimes.
Now she could hear the choppiness of her breathing as her body and mind zeroed in on the man beside her. She was too aware of his close proximity, too intrigued by his size, and too paranoid, because she could literally feel his powerful presence. Were those ice-green eyes still on her?
Just forget it, she told herself. Focus on real-life stuff. Like her schedule—what did she have left to do today? Oh, right, after a few more appointments and some paperwork, she'd eat dinner alone in front of the TV, then check her e-mail, find her inbox flooded with spam, and be in bed before most fifth graders. Yeah, her real life was just rolling right along.
The handsome guy next to her shifted his stance, bringing him a fraction closer. In response, Corryn's stomach muscles pulled tight and the breath hitched in her throat. Her heart was beating frantically. She was so edgy and nervous and over nothing! God, why did she have to be so bad with men and relationships? And why did she have to let it get to her?
Sometimes she wondered if Kane had ruined her for love. Then again, maybe she'd always been screwed-up, and he'd just made things worse. Not that he was abusive—just anal, critical, and pathologically dishonest. And rather than use direct insults, he'd made passive-aggressive remarks that even a toddler could see through. Yeah, he was really something special, Corryn thought, and on top of everything, he left me.
Suddenly the train jerked to another jarring stop, and the doors to her left flew open. Instead of people getting off, more just piled on. Shifting her body, she attempted to get "comfortable," but of course it was impossible. Not only was she sweaty, bitter, and short on breathable air, she was squished beyond belief, and could no longer reach the handrail.
"Christ," she mumbled, just as the man next to her—who must've sensed her frustration—said, "Here, hold on to me," and set his hand gently on the middle of her back. Corryn jumped at the contact, but grabbed on to his arm anyway, because she was about to fall over. Now he was practically enveloping her, holding her back steadily and warmly with one hand, while she held on to his other arm.
As the T rocked and swayed, Corryn felt confused. Her body was on full sensory alert; she was clutching on to a total stranger and honestly didn't want to let go.
As the train shook, her hip brushed against his thigh and he pressed more firmly on her back. A jolt of heat speared straight to her crotch. Insanity, she thought, taken aback by the sudden attraction.
It had been so long since she'd been touched by a man—so long since she had truly, deeply wanted to be. The guy next to her had to be releasing pheromones like crazy; it was the only logical explanation.
Sharply, she pulled away from him. A look of sudden confusion crossed his face. "I'm fine now," Corryn said by way of explanation, smiling politely and pretending she was having no trouble balancing as the T bumped and swayed. She had to collect herself and get back in
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