Maximum contact.
Sheer beauty.
Chapter Twenty-One
The Majestic
The next morning, breathing heavily as I jogged up Ren’s front steps after my run, I shoved my key in his lock and pushed open the door.
I used my wristband to wipe away the sweat from my brow as I huffed to the kitchen. Once there, I went direct to the fridge and grabbed a bottle of water.
Closing the fridge and turning, I caught Ren sauntering in wearing a suit.
Excellent timing.
He saw me and stopped dead.
“Hey, babe,” I semi-panted.
His eyes slid down and up my sweaty body in my awesome Lucy running threads that the gang did a great job picking for me, and I knew they did a great job because I watched his eyes get hot.
I twisted off the cap of the bottle of water and grinned at him.
He came unstuck and moved to me. I thought goodness would commence, but he reached beyond me to open the fridge.
I stepped to the side, leaned against the counter and belted back some agua.
“How was the run?” he asked before he took a slug of orange juice, and I noted that Amalea was a good mom who raised a good son who cooked, did the dishes and was thoughtful, but she hadn’t taught him not to drink out of the bottle.
Whatever.
“Run was great,” I answered (lying; it was good, but that didn’t mean it was fun—what was great was that it was over).
He put the orange juice back and focused his attention on me.
“You comin’ to the office after your shower?” he asked.
I nodded.
We’d made plans before I went out to run that I’d come in that morning and look at the space he rented me.
“Good,” he muttered, moving to the coffee.
“We didn’t have breakfast so I’ll bring Danish.” I changed my mind. “No, LaMar’s.”
“Whatever you want,” he said, turning toward me.
I moved into him, leaned up and kissed his jaw before I moved away, saying, “I’m just gonna shower and then—”
I got turned and only a step in before an arm hooked around my belly. I was pulled back, pressed forward and ended facing where I usually sat on the counter eating the breakfast Ren cooked me.
Arm still around my belly, his other thumb hooked into my running capris and yanked down.
Holy crap.
My inner thighs quivered.
“Ren,” I breathed.