appearance, or any little weight she might gain. And as hot as Chase Radcliffe might be, he wasn’t boyfriend material and never would be. That made it all a lot easier. “I like food, too,” Kenzie said. “And I like it spicy.” She tilted her head to meet his eyes, which were a grayish blue. “So how about you, Cowboy? Can you handle a little heat?”
***
Could he handle some heat? Oh, yeah. It just depended on whether she meant herself or the food. Either way, Chase was grateful for slightly baggy jeans to hopefully conceal the growing interest down below. Kenzie might not date, and he might only be here on business, but his penis apparently didn’t get the memo.
Okay, she wasn’t a lesbian. They’d established that. So what was she? A freaking cock tease, flirting openly, but never putting out? Or was there something else going on? Either way, Chase was intrigued, and he had the start of a hard on to prove it.
He jammed his hands in his pockets, trying to subtly adjust things down there so it wasn’t so obvious. His T-shirt came untucked, helping to disguise his problem. Good. Better. Maybe she wouldn’t even notice he was getting a boner. “I have no problem with heat,” Chase said. “The hotter the better, in fact. Where are you taking me, darlin’?” Maybe he shouldn’t flirt, given her prohibition on dating and the fact that this was a business trip. Then again, hadn’t she started it?
“To Hattie B’s,” Kenzie declared. “So we’ll see how much heat you can handle, big boy.”
CHAPTER THREE
S he was playing with him now, that much was obvious, and Chase tried to ignore it. This was business. Nothing else. They’d talk, realize they’d never mesh together musically, decide the whole idea of recording together was a bad one, and Chase would be on his way back to New England, content to write new music and wait for Jordy to be ready to record again. He didn’t need Kenzie or Keith or this crazy alternative country idea. Not at all.
Yeah, keep telling yourself that, buddy. Since a cold shower wasn’t an option, Chase tried every other method he knew to will his erection down as they walked the few blocks from Keith’s office to the chicken place. Chicken. She’d been talking about fucking fried chicken, and he’d gotten aroused. Pathetic. He could thank a long dry spell and Lisanne Ward for that. Now there was a cock tease if Chase ever knew one. She’d also be the last time he let anyone in his pretentious family try to set him up with a date. No, he’d find his own women from now on.
His eyes drifted to Kenzie’s ass as she walked slightly ahead of him. She wore a blue shirt dress that perfectly hugged her curves—which were ample—and fell just above her knee. It was paired with blue cowboy boots, which Chase figured were part of the official uniform in the Music City. Either way, the fashion statement worked for her, and worked very well. Whatever the reason for her prohibitions on dating, it was unfortunate for mankind.
“We’re here.” Kenzie stopped in front of a nondescript building. “Welcome to Hattie B’s Hot Chicken,” she announced, as if the destination was part of a local tour and she was the guide.
“Great,” Chase said. He reached to grab the door handle before she could, and pulled it open. “After you, ma’am.”
She looked up at him with a smile. “Are you sure you’re not from the South, with manners like that?”
“Nope. New England, born and bred.” Chase said, following her into the restaurant. “My mother taught me well, though, I guess.” And all because she hoped he’d marry a cold fish like Lisanne, who came from a supposedly proper family and therefore would make a good doctor’s wife. Yeah, nice try, Mom, but I want a woman who’s not afraid to scream for me when I touch her, not shrivel up and retreat. Was Kenzie a screamer? Did she like to be pleasured? Best not to go there, unless
***
Could he handle some heat? Oh, yeah. It just depended on whether she meant herself or the food. Either way, Chase was grateful for slightly baggy jeans to hopefully conceal the growing interest down below. Kenzie might not date, and he might only be here on business, but his penis apparently didn’t get the memo.
Okay, she wasn’t a lesbian. They’d established that. So what was she? A freaking cock tease, flirting openly, but never putting out? Or was there something else going on? Either way, Chase was intrigued, and he had the start of a hard on to prove it.
He jammed his hands in his pockets, trying to subtly adjust things down there so it wasn’t so obvious. His T-shirt came untucked, helping to disguise his problem. Good. Better. Maybe she wouldn’t even notice he was getting a boner. “I have no problem with heat,” Chase said. “The hotter the better, in fact. Where are you taking me, darlin’?” Maybe he shouldn’t flirt, given her prohibition on dating and the fact that this was a business trip. Then again, hadn’t she started it?
“To Hattie B’s,” Kenzie declared. “So we’ll see how much heat you can handle, big boy.”
CHAPTER THREE
S he was playing with him now, that much was obvious, and Chase tried to ignore it. This was business. Nothing else. They’d talk, realize they’d never mesh together musically, decide the whole idea of recording together was a bad one, and Chase would be on his way back to New England, content to write new music and wait for Jordy to be ready to record again. He didn’t need Kenzie or Keith or this crazy alternative country idea. Not at all.
Yeah, keep telling yourself that, buddy. Since a cold shower wasn’t an option, Chase tried every other method he knew to will his erection down as they walked the few blocks from Keith’s office to the chicken place. Chicken. She’d been talking about fucking fried chicken, and he’d gotten aroused. Pathetic. He could thank a long dry spell and Lisanne Ward for that. Now there was a cock tease if Chase ever knew one. She’d also be the last time he let anyone in his pretentious family try to set him up with a date. No, he’d find his own women from now on.
His eyes drifted to Kenzie’s ass as she walked slightly ahead of him. She wore a blue shirt dress that perfectly hugged her curves—which were ample—and fell just above her knee. It was paired with blue cowboy boots, which Chase figured were part of the official uniform in the Music City. Either way, the fashion statement worked for her, and worked very well. Whatever the reason for her prohibitions on dating, it was unfortunate for mankind.
“We’re here.” Kenzie stopped in front of a nondescript building. “Welcome to Hattie B’s Hot Chicken,” she announced, as if the destination was part of a local tour and she was the guide.
“Great,” Chase said. He reached to grab the door handle before she could, and pulled it open. “After you, ma’am.”
She looked up at him with a smile. “Are you sure you’re not from the South, with manners like that?”
“Nope. New England, born and bred.” Chase said, following her into the restaurant. “My mother taught me well, though, I guess.” And all because she hoped he’d marry a cold fish like Lisanne, who came from a supposedly proper family and therefore would make a good doctor’s wife. Yeah, nice try, Mom, but I want a woman who’s not afraid to scream for me when I touch her, not shrivel up and retreat. Was Kenzie a screamer? Did she like to be pleasured? Best not to go there, unless
Similar Books
It's All About Him
Denise Jackson
Letters of Love (Green Division Series Book #3)
Ashley Monahan
Love and Gravity
Olivia Connery
Alchymist
Ian Irvine
Witch’s Concubine
Cara Carnes
Her Dark Lord
Mel Teshco
I Need You
Jane Lark
Down from the Cross
Joyce Livingston
Girls Who Travel
Nicole Trilivas