the subtle approach.
Stevie sensed his encroaching presence and shifted closer to her calculator, trying with all her heart to ignore him, wishing he’d get what he’d come for and leave. Then she felt a warm tingle on the back of her neck, and a corresponding heat in her cheeks. Damn him. What did he think he was doing? She dared to look up and immediately wished she hadn’t.
The broken shafts of light from the ceiling fan cast him in shadow, adding mystery and danger to a face she’d been secretly memorizing all weekend. His rolled up sleeves and open collar of his shirt revealed a warm, dark brown body, lean with muscle and ready for—what? Stevie unconsciously scooted closer to her desk.
Hal was taking his time, enjoying the view, and stalking her, slowly, easily, and inevitably. His gaze traveled up the length of her legs to the wide leather belt cinching her waist. A white T-shirt he’d like to see wet, clung to her upper body.
“Thanks for not firing me Friday night.” He lifted two of the reinforced cardboard boxes off the stack and dropped them on the near side of her desk, neatly trapping her between himself and the wall.
Stevie’s eyes widened as he sat down on the double box, knees splayed, booted feet planted firmly on the floor. A tiny, delayed shot of panic released in her brain. “You’re welcome. You’ll . . . um . . . get the hang of it.”
‘Yeah, I think I will.” Hal made himself comfortable and watched her, letting his anticipation build. He’d waited a long time. “Is it going to be crazy like that every weekend?”
“No. We’ll get hit again on the Fourth, and Labor Day weekend, but the rest of the time it will just be busy, not cra—What are you doing?”
With the toe of his boot, Hal swivelled her chair around, putting her between his legs. Her tiny shot of panic turned into a heart-pounding wave.
“Hal,” she said with a gasp, pressing back into the chair. Her braid slid over her shoulder, making a honey-colored ribbon down the front of her shirt. “Wha-what do you think you’re doing?”
“Well, Stevie, I’ll tell you,” he said in a soft drawl, leaning in close and resting his hands on the arms of the chair. “For a week and a half all I’ve been able to think about is kissing you again. . . .”
The rolling roughness of his voice pulled her ever-widening eyes up to meet the indigo sultriness of his.
“Hal, you promised.” Slight desperation made her voice weak, and, oh, so vulnerable to the power of his.
“. . . But I’m having trouble pulling it off.” His mouth lowered to her cheek, and his words blew against her skin. “I was hoping you’d help me, maybe we could practice for a while.” Every phrase drew him closer to the sweet nape of her neck. At her ear, he paused and whispered, “Come on, Stevie . . . help me.” Then his mouth opened.
The warmth, and the wetness, and the wildness of his touch exploded across her skin, drowning reason with desire. He was above her and over her, his hands linking behind her head, gently nudging her, coaxing her, asking her to turn her mouth into his.
“Hal . . .” His name whispered from her lips on a soft moan. “Please, no.”
“Shh . . .” His hand came around the side of her face, cupping her chin and making the decision for her.
More lost than she’d ever been, Stevie opened her mouth, and slowly sank into the heat and passion of his kiss. A depthless longing lifted her hands to the bare skin of his arms, just to feel the warmth and the hardness of him. Beneath her fingers, his muscles flexed and tightened, drawing her closer.
Without warning Hal had slipped in over his head. He’d started something he didn’t want to end. Sweet, sweet, Stevie Lee surprised him again and again with the hunger of her touch, the lazy track of her tongue in his mouth, the pressure of her knee on the inside of his thigh. A slow ache drew a groan of pleasure from his mouth into hers. He slid his arm behind her
Stevie sensed his encroaching presence and shifted closer to her calculator, trying with all her heart to ignore him, wishing he’d get what he’d come for and leave. Then she felt a warm tingle on the back of her neck, and a corresponding heat in her cheeks. Damn him. What did he think he was doing? She dared to look up and immediately wished she hadn’t.
The broken shafts of light from the ceiling fan cast him in shadow, adding mystery and danger to a face she’d been secretly memorizing all weekend. His rolled up sleeves and open collar of his shirt revealed a warm, dark brown body, lean with muscle and ready for—what? Stevie unconsciously scooted closer to her desk.
Hal was taking his time, enjoying the view, and stalking her, slowly, easily, and inevitably. His gaze traveled up the length of her legs to the wide leather belt cinching her waist. A white T-shirt he’d like to see wet, clung to her upper body.
“Thanks for not firing me Friday night.” He lifted two of the reinforced cardboard boxes off the stack and dropped them on the near side of her desk, neatly trapping her between himself and the wall.
Stevie’s eyes widened as he sat down on the double box, knees splayed, booted feet planted firmly on the floor. A tiny, delayed shot of panic released in her brain. “You’re welcome. You’ll . . . um . . . get the hang of it.”
‘Yeah, I think I will.” Hal made himself comfortable and watched her, letting his anticipation build. He’d waited a long time. “Is it going to be crazy like that every weekend?”
“No. We’ll get hit again on the Fourth, and Labor Day weekend, but the rest of the time it will just be busy, not cra—What are you doing?”
With the toe of his boot, Hal swivelled her chair around, putting her between his legs. Her tiny shot of panic turned into a heart-pounding wave.
“Hal,” she said with a gasp, pressing back into the chair. Her braid slid over her shoulder, making a honey-colored ribbon down the front of her shirt. “Wha-what do you think you’re doing?”
“Well, Stevie, I’ll tell you,” he said in a soft drawl, leaning in close and resting his hands on the arms of the chair. “For a week and a half all I’ve been able to think about is kissing you again. . . .”
The rolling roughness of his voice pulled her ever-widening eyes up to meet the indigo sultriness of his.
“Hal, you promised.” Slight desperation made her voice weak, and, oh, so vulnerable to the power of his.
“. . . But I’m having trouble pulling it off.” His mouth lowered to her cheek, and his words blew against her skin. “I was hoping you’d help me, maybe we could practice for a while.” Every phrase drew him closer to the sweet nape of her neck. At her ear, he paused and whispered, “Come on, Stevie . . . help me.” Then his mouth opened.
The warmth, and the wetness, and the wildness of his touch exploded across her skin, drowning reason with desire. He was above her and over her, his hands linking behind her head, gently nudging her, coaxing her, asking her to turn her mouth into his.
“Hal . . .” His name whispered from her lips on a soft moan. “Please, no.”
“Shh . . .” His hand came around the side of her face, cupping her chin and making the decision for her.
More lost than she’d ever been, Stevie opened her mouth, and slowly sank into the heat and passion of his kiss. A depthless longing lifted her hands to the bare skin of his arms, just to feel the warmth and the hardness of him. Beneath her fingers, his muscles flexed and tightened, drawing her closer.
Without warning Hal had slipped in over his head. He’d started something he didn’t want to end. Sweet, sweet, Stevie Lee surprised him again and again with the hunger of her touch, the lazy track of her tongue in his mouth, the pressure of her knee on the inside of his thigh. A slow ache drew a groan of pleasure from his mouth into hers. He slid his arm behind her
Similar Books
