Just One Kiss (Very Irresistible Bachelors #2) - Layla Hagen Page 0,50
in my entire life.
“You’re quiet,” she whispered. “That’s very unlike you.”
“I’m just enjoying you.” I pushed her hair to the side, kissing the back of her neck.
“Let’s play a game.”
“I’m all ears.”
“A question for a question.”
“I like the sound of that.”
She squirmed in my lap. Groaning, I clasped her hips. “Heather, stop.”
“Ah, my bad. Wasn’t intentional. I have an idea. Since dinner wasn’t all that great, do you want some cheese and crackers?”
“Sure.”
“Okay. Stay here. I’ll be right back.”
While she went inside, I inspected the surroundings. The balcony was on the second floor, and the inner courtyard was dark except for light from someone’s TV to the far left.
Heather returned with a plate full of crackers and cheese. “So, let’s change the rules. Answer a question, and I’ll give you a bite of cheese and cracker.”
“Sounds kinky.” I winked and immediately pulled her back into my lap.
“I’ll start?” she asked, and I wasn’t sure I liked the grin she had on her face.
“Sure. Shoot.”
“Do you like musicals?”
“Huge no.”
She sagged against me. “Damn. But here, have a cracker.”
“Favorite spot in the city?” I asked after swallowing a mouthful.
“Central Park. Yours?”
“The Rockefeller Center.”
“You’re a building lover, and your favorite building isn’t even one that belongs to your cousin?”
“Now you know my secret. Don’t tell anyone. Especially not my sisters.”
“Don’t worry, I won’t give you away... unless....”
“Unless what?” I pinched the side of her torso, close to her armpits. She yelped, pressing her arms to her sides, cutting off my access. She thought that would deter me?
I always found a way of getting what I wanted. Her feet were lying at the side of my thigh as she sat across my lap, soles upward under the blanket. I tickled her there, and she shrieked with laughter, immediately taking her legs away, crossing them in front of her. She was still laughing, juggling our snack on her lap. The sound reverberated in the yard between the buildings.
“Hey! Some of us are trying to sleep,” an angry voice shouted. Heather spun around, burying her face in my shoulder, still laughing. I ran a hand up and down her back, attempting to calm her down, fighting the urge to burst out laughing myself. There was no stopping us if I gave in. It took Heather a solid few minutes to calm down. Tears were streaming down her face when she came up for air. She wiped them away before pointing a finger at me.
“I was going to say unless you play dirty, but I see you’ve got that down to a science.”
“That’s right.”
“Don’t make me laugh again. I can’t stop.”
“Learned my lesson.”
“So you won’t do it again?”
The corners of my mouth twitched. “Didn’t say that. I’ll just keep it indoors.”
“Why would you do that?”
“I like hearing you laugh. Besides, if we keep it indoors, I can turn tickling into something... else.”
“Damn. If there’s a not-so-innocent part in any plan, you’ll jump on it.”
I grinned. “Glad we cleared that up.”
“Well, I feel like staying out here for a while longer. And nothing you do will change my mind.”
“I beg to differ.”
She pressed her arms to her body, clearly thinking I was going to tickle her. I wasn’t an amateur. I didn’t use the same strategy twice. I kissed her, tangling our tongues, pressing her hips into me until she moaned against my mouth.
“Ryker,” she whispered in a shaky voice, tugging at the collar of my shirt. “Let’s go inside.”
“Why? You think you might do something indecent if we stay out here?”
She pulled back, narrowing her eyes and pinching my arm. “Yes!”
“Why did you pinch me if you agree?”
“Because I’m only grudgingly agreeing. Thought I’d let you know.” Not that I believed her; she was as hot for me as I was for her.
“Duly noted.”
Chapter Twenty
Heather
On Tuesday, I’d decided to go into the newspaper’s headquarters only because I was meeting Ryker later at the Northern Lights.
I spent the day cooped up in one of our multifunctional offices—a fancy name for a room with multiple bean bags. Reporters didn’t have designated offices, since we were either in the field or working from home.
I also asked my editor when the article on Pearman would be published—I was almost done editing it.
“Honestly, it’s up to the bosses. You know how these things are.”
Well, that was no help. Articles weren’t published in the order I wrote them, but the clock on my lease was ticking.
I pulled up my account on my phone and paid in advance one more month of rent... and