relationship—would be
few and far between.”
“Oh.” Her eyebrows creased as she considered his remarks.
“Besides, pixie, think how much fun we’d have making up
after one of our little disagreements.” Leaning forward, he captured her hand
in his and brought it to his lips. She watched, her face flushed, as he placed
a soft kiss on her knuckles before turning her hand over and running his tongue
suggestively across her palm.
She pulled her hand back. “Stop distracting me.”
He struggled to look chagrined. “Sorry to interrupt. You
were about to give me two more reasons, I believe, as to why you and I
shouldn’t become lovers.”
“That’s right and that actually leads me to my next
argument.” Her face became more composed and he braced himself. “I’m not in the
slightest bit attracted to you.”
He laughed—loudly. Her words were such a blatant lie he
didn’t even pretend to fall for them. “Is that right?” He reached down and
gripped her hips tightly. Pulling her closer, he let her feel the erection that
was fighting to escape its denim cage.
Jill’s eyes drifted shut and for just a moment, she pushed
against him. Then her gaze lifted to his face. “All that proves is you’re
attracted to me . We already knew that.” She gave him a cocky grin that
made him smile.
He lifted his hand and tweaked her tight nipple. She gasped
at his unexpected attack. “You go to hell for lying, Jill,” he teased. “Should
I dip my fingers into your panties to see just how big your lie is? How wet are
you?”
Jill was nothing if not resilient. “I was fantasizing about
Gerard Butler when you walked in. Needless to say, I’m soaked. But that doesn’t
mean I’m going to bend over for the first guy who walks by with a hard-on.”
“So that kiss at Christmas meant nothing?” He refused to
accept her second reason. He knew she was interested, knew she was as hot for
him as he was for her. It simply made no sense for her to deny it.
“It meant we were under the mistletoe and you were laid up
in a wheelchair over the holidays. Consider it a gift.”
“You expect me to believe it was a sympathy kiss?”
“Well, it probably started out that way. I’m not going to
lie to you, Wes. You’re a pretty decent kisser. Let’s just say it was a gift
that kept giving…for a few minutes.”
“Thirty,” he amended. They’d made out like a couple of
teenagers in the backseat of a car for half an hour before Rick and Kate
returned to the living room.
“Wow. What’d you do? Put a stopwatch on us?”
“I’m observant. And I observed while we were kissing that
you’re totally hot for me.”
“It was just a kiss.”
He shook his head. “No. It wasn’t. Do you want me to say it,
Jill? I lust after you. And I’m not talking about some meek, mild lust, but a
hot, heart-pounding, rock-hard-cock kind of lusting. I’m pretty sure if we
explored that lust a bit we’d set the town on fire. And the attraction is
definitely mutual.”
She rolled her eyes and he struggled not to laugh. No other
woman on earth kept his feet so firmly on the ground. “Fine, Wes. You’re
probably right. We’d burn down the house, but we’re never going to let it go
that far. It wouldn’t be a good idea.”
“Why not?”
“Because it wouldn’t lead to anything.”
“I’m pretty fucking sure it would lead to a ton of orgasms
for each of us.”
“Yeah.” She paused, and Wes suspected they were finally
going to get down to the heart of the matter. Her first two reasons—weak
excuses at best—had been a ruse. “Actually, that leads me to my final reason.”
He crossed his arms and struggled not to gloat. If her last
reason was as lame as the first two, he had nothing to worry about.
“I know what you’re looking for, Wes, and I can’t go there.
I don’t want a relationship. At all.”
That caught him unaware. “I’m sorry?” he said, unsure
he’d heard her correctly.
“I’m thirty-three years old
J.A. Konrath, Jude Hardin
Justine Dare Justine Davis
Daisy Hernández, Bushra Rehman