sensation flowing through her body just might cause her to melt into a puddle right there on the floor. This man was making her all kinds of hot and bothered. And based on the devilish smirk on his handsome face when he leaned back, he knew it.
“I, um.” Her eyes dipped to his parted lips, still so close to hers, and she wondered if he would move in to see if she tasted like coconut as well. She was curious how his mouth would feel on other parts of her body, too. Her face was so hot she was almost afraid she’d spoken her lustful thoughts aloud, but she forced her eyes to his. “I guess I did.” Oh God. Was that her voice? It sounded raspy, sexy . . . like desire had wrapped itself around her vocal cords.
The edge of his lip shifted between his teeth as he continued to study her.
So. Much. Lust. It swirled in his light green eyes and had her squeezing her thighs together. Passion radiated from his body and hit her like a storm. Bolts of lightning and cracks of thunder struck her fast and hard.
Naked cowboy. A new fantasy formed in her mind, and in it, A.J. wasn’t quite naked. He had on well-worn jeans, chaps, and a cowboy hat.
“Patty makes the best homemade soap this side of Alabama,” A.J. said as if either of them gave a damn about soap or Patty right now. He tilted his head, his eyes twinkling.
“Oh? And who makes the best on the other side?” She arched her back a touch, drawn to him like a magnet, desperate with need.
“Damn, woman, I really like you.” This was not a declaration of his undying devotion. His tone was teasing, playful, and yet he was still occupying her space and staring at her like he wanted to eat her for dinner.
She took a few shallow breaths and willed herself not to collapse into his strong arms and beg him to have his way with her, like he probably expected to happen.
“I think Alabama might actually be doing her thing and turning you into a Southerner.” His gaze dropped to her braid hanging in front of her shoulder, and he reached out to take the end between his fingers. “You’re wet.”
“I am,” she murmured, and then blinked in shock at her admission.
The side of his mouth did some cute curl, and she followed his gaze to her shirt.
“Ohhh.” Her face heated with the force of a thousand suns when she saw the now-sheer white fabric where her wet braid had lain, directly over her right breast. The sight of her nipple poking clear as day through her sheer bra had her slinging both arms across her chest, resulting in the loss of her balance. If she weren’t so mortified, she’d have laughed at her clumsiness.
A.J. released her braid, quickly gripped a hand around her hip, and pulled her close to steady her.
Their playful teasing suddenly took a back seat to unmistakable desire the second her body was up against his strong frame.
Her arms were wedged between them, but he brought his free hand beneath her chin, and with a finger, tilted her face, silently demanding she look at him.
Once Ana was face-to-face with A.J., fear grabbed hold of her. Just looking into his trusting, caring eyes made her feel like a fraud and a liar. She squeezed her eyes shut as thoughts of what was currently her life sailed to mind—the truth about her parents, the mission Porter had given her . . . Porter. Please let Porter be okay.
“Look at me,” A.J. commanded, a sexy rasp in his tone that had her wanting to let go. To forget every sentence that began with “No” or “I can’t.”
She relaxed her arms, allowing them to fall, and without that barrier, there was nothing else between them. Nothing but her worries.
“Look at me.” His tone was rougher this time, and it was as if his palm had stroked her center and parted her legs when he’d spoken.
“I’m scared,” she confessed, her voice wobbly. “You may not want to kiss me once you know the truth about me.”
He was quiet for a moment, but he didn’t step away at her words. He didn’t release her. “What makes you think I want to kiss you?” he challenged, ignoring her admission because A.J. was A.J., she’d quickly learned, and he couldn’t help himself whenever he had a chance to playfully give her a hard