Read Online To Hiss or to Kiss by Katya Armock - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Katya Armock
Ads: Link
please.”
He turns to pull some half-and-half from the refrigerator as the kettle starts to whistle. I grab the latter and pour the steaming water into the Brown Betty. Then I set the oven timer for five minutes. Meanwhile, Jorge puts the half-and-half and some sugar on the counter next to two matching green mugs.
“So now we wait, I guess.” I laugh nervously .
“Yes. What shall we do while we wait?” His gaze locks on my lips.
Mine snaps to his lips, and I glide toward him in what I’d like to think is a sexy way. “Hmm. Seems we’re pretty good at kissing.”
“Ah, I see any fear you had has faded.” He puts his hands on my cheeks, his fingers reaching back into my hair. “But I think we should discuss what happened last night.” His intense emerald eyes meet mine.
“Fine.” I pout, pulling away. “If you want to be all mature.”
He chuckles, and so do I. It’s wonderful to be around someone who gets my sarcasm. Again I ignore the warning bells that say I’m getting too close.
He stares at me for a bit, and I find myself slightly hypnotized by his rhythmic breathing. I break the silence. “So I enjoyed your scotch. And I will wash the glass and bring it back. I know those things are expensive.” I try my darnedest not to blush, but the heat in my cheeks tells me I’m not succeeding.
“OK.” He has gone incredibly still, like a predator stalking its prey. And I have the uneasy—and exciting, depending on which part of me you ask—feeling I’m his prey.
When I realize he’s not going to add anything but just stare at me, I continue, increasing the chagrin in my voice. “I swear I don’t usually storm out and steal from my host. I was really confused and angry.” I pause, trying frantically to steer my brain away from sharing anything too personal, and finish lamely with, “The whole night was just weird and overwhelming.”
“Yes, it was. We both trusted the other with a pretty significant secret. And I didn’t exactly handle that well. Or the attraction between us. Although it was a pretty bold move to take the whole bottle of scotch.” He is still staring fixedly at me, a teasing smile on his lips. His eyes are another story. They are filled with heat, and I need a way to lower the intensity level.
Instead of jumping him—some prey I turn out to be!—I offer my hand. “How about we try to start again? I think we can manage much better tonight.”
“That’s an excellent idea.” He reaches to shake my hand. “I’m Jorge.”
I shake his hand in return. “Chloe.”
“Pleasure to meet you.”
“Likewise…OK, this is just cheesy. How about we just move on and pretend that nothing awkward happened, and then in a few months we’ll have a great, funny story to tell about how we met.” To tell our grandchildren, my impish heart says, even while my brain fights for control.
Jorge cocks his head. “That sounds much better actually. And to reiterate that I won’t interfere with your plans, so long as you do nothing knowingly dangerous, how did your recon go tonight?”
And that easily, the tension in the air dissipates. There’s still an undercurrent of sexual tension, but that I can definitely live with.
“OK.” Frustration creeps into my voice. “Gracie, that’s the one dog who would talk with me, gave me a decent layout of where she is and how to get in and out, but I’ve got nothing on the security features. And since I’m no master thief or super spy, I’m at a loss.”
“Will the authorities do anything to help?”
I guffaw. “Yeah, if they’d believe me.”
“I suppose I should have known that.” He sounds a bit embarrassed and is smiling in the cutest way. “But there is still the humane agents’ work to consider.”
“Yeah, but I still don’t know what to do. The good news is, if the bastards hold to the pattern, it sounds like we should have at least a week before they try to take the dogs anywhere, according to Gracie.”
The timer on
He turns to pull some half-and-half from the refrigerator as the kettle starts to whistle. I grab the latter and pour the steaming water into the Brown Betty. Then I set the oven timer for five minutes. Meanwhile, Jorge puts the half-and-half and some sugar on the counter next to two matching green mugs.
“So now we wait, I guess.” I laugh nervously .
“Yes. What shall we do while we wait?” His gaze locks on my lips.
Mine snaps to his lips, and I glide toward him in what I’d like to think is a sexy way. “Hmm. Seems we’re pretty good at kissing.”
“Ah, I see any fear you had has faded.” He puts his hands on my cheeks, his fingers reaching back into my hair. “But I think we should discuss what happened last night.” His intense emerald eyes meet mine.
“Fine.” I pout, pulling away. “If you want to be all mature.”
He chuckles, and so do I. It’s wonderful to be around someone who gets my sarcasm. Again I ignore the warning bells that say I’m getting too close.
He stares at me for a bit, and I find myself slightly hypnotized by his rhythmic breathing. I break the silence. “So I enjoyed your scotch. And I will wash the glass and bring it back. I know those things are expensive.” I try my darnedest not to blush, but the heat in my cheeks tells me I’m not succeeding.
“OK.” He has gone incredibly still, like a predator stalking its prey. And I have the uneasy—and exciting, depending on which part of me you ask—feeling I’m his prey.
When I realize he’s not going to add anything but just stare at me, I continue, increasing the chagrin in my voice. “I swear I don’t usually storm out and steal from my host. I was really confused and angry.” I pause, trying frantically to steer my brain away from sharing anything too personal, and finish lamely with, “The whole night was just weird and overwhelming.”
“Yes, it was. We both trusted the other with a pretty significant secret. And I didn’t exactly handle that well. Or the attraction between us. Although it was a pretty bold move to take the whole bottle of scotch.” He is still staring fixedly at me, a teasing smile on his lips. His eyes are another story. They are filled with heat, and I need a way to lower the intensity level.
Instead of jumping him—some prey I turn out to be!—I offer my hand. “How about we try to start again? I think we can manage much better tonight.”
“That’s an excellent idea.” He reaches to shake my hand. “I’m Jorge.”
I shake his hand in return. “Chloe.”
“Pleasure to meet you.”
“Likewise…OK, this is just cheesy. How about we just move on and pretend that nothing awkward happened, and then in a few months we’ll have a great, funny story to tell about how we met.” To tell our grandchildren, my impish heart says, even while my brain fights for control.
Jorge cocks his head. “That sounds much better actually. And to reiterate that I won’t interfere with your plans, so long as you do nothing knowingly dangerous, how did your recon go tonight?”
And that easily, the tension in the air dissipates. There’s still an undercurrent of sexual tension, but that I can definitely live with.
“OK.” Frustration creeps into my voice. “Gracie, that’s the one dog who would talk with me, gave me a decent layout of where she is and how to get in and out, but I’ve got nothing on the security features. And since I’m no master thief or super spy, I’m at a loss.”
“Will the authorities do anything to help?”
I guffaw. “Yeah, if they’d believe me.”
“I suppose I should have known that.” He sounds a bit embarrassed and is smiling in the cutest way. “But there is still the humane agents’ work to consider.”
“Yeah, but I still don’t know what to do. The good news is, if the bastards hold to the pattern, it sounds like we should have at least a week before they try to take the dogs anywhere, according to Gracie.”
The timer on
Similar Books
