As he spoke, Jake’s finger trailed the path he was verbally outlining, and heat exploded in my veins. “Over your breasts.” His finger briefly stopped, flicking my hardened nipple and making me gasp. “Then lower. Everywhere I didn’t get to taste the first time around.”
I wasn’t sure I could handle any lower. His finger, the smooth, even way he touched me … it was making my eyes cross, my breath come in rapid pants.
“Fuck, Pres,” he muttered, his head lifting, eyes meeting mine. “This is a helluva lot harder than I thought it would be. And trust me, I hadn’t thought it would be easy. Not by a long shot.”
That made me smile. I liked that he was just as affected by me as I was by him. It made this thing between us mutual, and made me feel as though we were on even footing. Even if I knew we shouldn’t push this thing between us just yet.
Notice I didn’t say couldn’t.
We could.
So easily.
And I wanted to.
More than anything.
Luckily, the coffeepot hissed, a signal that it was finished. I felt Jake’s reluctance as he stepped back from me, taking with him the warmth he’d infused me with.
I decided this was the perfect opportunity to change the subject. “What time did you get up?”
“Before the sun was up,” he told me, peering over his shoulder from where he was pouring the coffee. “Sugar?”
“Yeah. And a little coconut milk,” I replied. “Does that mean you were writing?”
Jake handed me the coffee cup after he doctored it, then moved back to lean against the counter. I watched him, gripping my mug with both hands in an attempt to steady them.
“It’s interesting how I’ve spent the last year unable to finish a story, sometimes unable to write anything at all. And then three weeks ago, I bumped into this beautiful woman in a coffee shop and now…”
“Now?” I probed, wanting to hear him explain it.
His eyes locked with mine. “When I’m around you, I can write. In fact, I’m pretty sure I can do anything.”
“Why is that?” I asked, my voice reflecting the tremor that raced through me. Jake might not know it, but his words seduced me, in a way no man had ever done before.
He shrugged. “I think I’ve found my muse.”
Since he’d said the words I’d been thinking all along—only he was my muse—I nodded in understanding. But for the first time, I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. We’d been spending some time together, and it seemed that he could write when we did, so part of me wondered whether that was his reason for being with me.
I hated my skepticism, but I couldn’t ignore it completely.
“So where do we go from here?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.
“Wherever we want.”
That sexy, mischievous smirk was back and my body recognized it instantly.
Only, I hadn’t the slightest clue what that actually meant, but I was definitely interested in finding out.
Chapter Forty-Eight
Jake
As I stood in Presley’s kitchen, looking at the sexiest woman alive sitting on the counter, wearing my T-shirt, I wondered how it was possible my head hadn’t exploded yet.
So, seriously … a sexy woman wearing your T-shirt… Hottest fucking thing in the world. But this woman wearing my T-shirt… Hottest fucking thing in the universe.
Christ Almighty, from the instant I’d noticed her coming down the stairs, I’d worried that I was going to be reduced to a horny teenager and come in my jeans. I hadn’t expected it, truly. And now, I wasn’t sure I ever wanted to see her wearing anything else.
From the moment I’d met her, she’d pushed me to the edge. I wanted her so fucking bad it hurt. Then, to make matters worse, I was at a point with Kora and Donovan that didn’t involve sex, so I wasn’t letting off any steam that way, which left me feeling as though I were hanging by a thin wire that was threatening to snap at any second. Wound so tight I was scared to breathe.
“Jake.”
I lifted my eyes to meet hers, noticed the heat there. She wanted this as much as I did. When she set her coffee cup down on the counter, I did the same, then moved to her again. My mouth found hers instantly, my tongue darting past her lips, mashing against hers while her hands found their way beneath my shirt again.
Though I’d managed to keep my hands out of the mix a few