Did I mention he was shirtless?
As in completely nude from the waist up. Showing off every ripple and groove, flashing those sexy tattoos and those little dips at his waist. I was lusting, and by the look on his face when he looked up to see me sitting there, he knew. Which fully explained why he was now sauntering in my direction, flashing the sinful dimple of his, while staring at me with his damn sultry eyes.
“Surprised to see you here, pretty girl.” He rested his arms on my door and leaned in through the open window. “Your cheeks are a little red. Are you hot?”
Smartass.
“Nope, I’m fine.” I would not show weakness.
“That you are.” Leaning in a little further, he grabbed the back of my head and pulled me in close for a kiss. “Cherry,” he whispered, pulling back and licking his lips. It took me a second to realize he was talking about my lip gloss.
“I came to get tomatoes from Gran.” I squared my shoulders, ignoring the way my body wanted to react to him after his taunting kiss. “Then I’m off to help in the shop.” Somehow spending the day chopping wood, running it through planers, and then shooting nails through it sounded like a great way to relieve some of the tension I felt. Tension I had brought on myself and could relieve at any time if I would stop being so damned stubborn.
“Well, don’t let me hold ya up.” He backed up and allowed me to climb out of my Jeep. The second my feet hit the gravel and I tried to hurry away, he grabbed me around the waist and spun me around. Quickly, my back was pressed to the side of my Jeep and he completely shielded me. “On second thought, I feel like holding you up just a bit.” Then his lips were on mine. Not just any old kiss, this was a mind-blowing, consuming kiss. It was a reminder of what I was missing, as he rolled his tongue over mine and even went as far as sucking on my lips lightly like he did in other areas.
And I melted.
“I love cherry,” he whispered before going back for more. My head was spinning. “I’ll be at your place, with dinner at six. Wear this lip gloss.” And then he was gone.
Thankfully, the Jeep was at my back; otherwise, I would have tumbled to the ground. I was so in over my head.
***
I spent the day sawing shit. Lots and lots of shit. My dad just put me in a corner and gave me a pile of wood, telling me to cut them into eight-by-eight squares. I didn’t ask why—frankly, I didn’t care. I just wanted to cut something.
No one asked me any questions. I guessed my face told them all they needed to know. I was frustrated, only they didn’t know it was sexually. They also didn’t know that I was the dumbass that caused it.
But it gave me time to reflect, time to remind myself that I had a challenge to win and I was going to win it.
I’d gone home, taken a shower, and because I had to be prepared to face Mike later, I took matters into my own hands. As in I wasn't alone in that shower that I took for close to forty-five minutes, no, I certainly was not. I had the guy that had never, not once in the last four years, let me down.
He and I played around in the hot shower, he made me moan out a few times, and now that gorgeous organic king was tucked safely back into the drawer of my nightstand.
I was satisfied now and confident that I could get through the night without caving and riding Mike like a raging bull.
Flashbacks of us on his couch, me with my head thrown back and him gripping my hips hard and thrusting upward over and over. I grabbed the edge of the countertop and hung my head, mentally counting to ten. What in the hell was I doing?
The doorbell ringing made me jump, and I hurried around the island and then slid to a stop. Looking around my apartment, I realized what I had done.
The lights were dimmed, soft music played, and then I looked down. I was wearing the tiniest pair of shorts I owned and a tank top with no bra. I’d meant to get dressed, but then time just got away from me and—
The doorbell rang again.
Searching around, I found my old ratty robe on the back of the couch, and I grabbed it quickly, wrapping it around my body. It wasn’t sexy by any means. It was worn, huge, and long enough to cover my legs down to my ankles. The sleeves were also so long that it only showed a small fraction of my hands sticking out of the ends.
I tied it tight, ran around the couch, flipped off the radio, and then on my way to the door, I threw on every single light I passed.
When I opened the door, Mike squinted.
“Damn,” he complained as he stepped inside, “why is it so bright in here?”
I looked around too, and I might have gone a little overboard. But before I could come up with a good excuse as to why my apartment was glowing, he took in my appearance, and a slow smile covered his lips.
“What?”
“Are you cold?” No, it was hotter than hell outside; I knew that. But I also couldn’t give him the true reason as to why I was dressed like an Eskimo in the middle of a heat wave. “Because I could warm you up.”
“No,” I said, holding up my
