Read Online Slow Ride by Erin McCarthy - Free Book Online Page A

was speechless, but he couldn’t force anything out of his mouth. All of his blood and concentration had rushed south to his cock. Tuesday was . . . naked. Virtually. He had figured there wasn’t a whole lot on her body under that blanket, but he had never expected that he’d be given the privilege of seeing it. Today, anyway.
    It was a hell of a view. She was a hell of a woman.
    With very long legs. A tight backside. And a flat stomach that made him want to lick from her breasts to her navel and right on down to the promised land.
    Her skin was creamy and fair, her breasts small but perky, her arms long and elegant.
    Yes, her hair looked like she’d jammed her finger into an electrical socket, and it looked like a five-year-old had made free with her makeup, but that was to be expected after a night of overconsumption of alcohol. There had been a lot of hair spray in that twist thing she’d had going on with her hair, so he could imagine this would be the end result even if she had been sober.
    She was beautiful; he had been telling the straight-up God’s honest truth. And now he knew for certain she had a banging body, and he had the hard-on to prove it. Damn. He hadn’t seen that one coming—the dropping the blanket, not the hard-on. He was starting to think that was going to be a perpetual problem around Tuesday.
    When he stopped choking on his own drool he managed to call out, “Am I driving you to your car, is that what we’re doing here? Or am I just hanging out on your couch for no reason?”
    “Yes, you’re driving me to my car,” she said, her voice grumpy. “How else am I supposed to get to the brunch?”
    “Float there with your angel wings?” he asked, a little heavy on the sarcasm.
    She popped her head back out of the bathroom. “Don’t be a hater. I’m not at my best this morning. I’m hungover. I’m embarrassed. I’m late. I appreciate a ride, seriously. And I appreciate you bringing me home last night.”
    Wow. That was a refreshing display of honesty. “You’re welcome. And you have no reason to be embarrassed. It was a wedding. Everyone was getting their drink on.”
    Her answer was the shower turning on. Her head had disappeared but she hadn’t closed the bathroom door. Which meant she was probably stripping off her bra and panties and stepping into that shower totally naked. Where hot water would bounce off her bare body and trickle down over every inch of her.
    Diesel shifted on her couch. He was starting to get more than a little uncomfortable. For a guy who was leery of having sex, he was starting to think that given the option, he’d dive in face-first with Tuesday, bum knee or not.
    To distract himself from thoughts of helping her wash her body, he glanced around her apartment. It somehow reminded him of her. Tailored. Clean. Classy. Everything looked like it belonged where it was. Even the nubby blanket she had been wearing was elegant, not your granny’s afghan. He hadn’t seen much the night before when he’d been struggling to drag her into her apartment. They’d stumbled down the hall together, then she’d taken a facer onto her bed. He’d removed her shoes and turned her onto her back. He’d thought about taking her dress off, but that was crossing a boundary, considering they’d only met twice, so he’d just pulled up her covers and left her with some aspirin and water.
    He was feeling a little guilty though for not just crashing on the couch. He’d been tempted, but hadn’t wanted her to wake up and think he was some creepy douche bag lingering around going through her underwear drawer.
    The shower turned off almost immediately. He was impressed with her speed. A minute later she appeared in the doorway, a towel around her body, a second one on her head.
    “Three more minutes,” she told him.
    “Where is this brunch?” he asked her.
    “Statesville. Some bed-and-breakfast.”
    “That’s in the opposite direction of your car. What time were you