This Is War, Baby - K Webster Page 0,73
at your spot,” he assures in a playful tone that has me crawling out of bed after him. His eyes flicker with a hunger that can frequently be seen in his stare. I walk past him, inhaling his fresh, manly scent on the way to the sofa that has a great view of the ocean.
“What’s this?” I ask, seeing a black hatbox sitting on the table. It’s tied with a pretty, hot pink ribbon. I sit down on the sofa and give him a confused look.
He smiles, almost as if he’s embarrassed, and sits surprisingly close to me. “I got you a gift.”
“My birthday isn’t until tomorrow,” I chide but can’t help the excitement bubbling to the surface.
“Well, in that case, I suppose I’ll take it back to my closet and hold onto it until—”
“Not so fast, mister!” I say with a laugh and playfully swat at him.
He beams at me and I adore the twinkle in his eyes.
Turning, unwillingly, from his handsome face, I grab hold of the ribbon and tug. After I lift the lid, I gasp.
“You hate it.”
Ignoring his words, I lift the pair of pink Nike’s from the box and stare at them. Underneath the shoes are some running shorts and a sports bra. At the very bottom is a pink iPod.
“What is all this?” My voice is breathless and I don’t let go of the tennis shoes.
“I thought perhaps you’d enjoy running along the beach for exercise. You know, since it means so much to you. From my perspective, I can watch you all the way to the restaurant, a mile to the left, and the big dock about a mile to the right. It’d be a great length to—”
Without thinking, I launch myself at him. I’m thrilled and wrap my arms around him in a gracious hug. It isn’t until a few heartbeats later that I realize what I’ve done. Tearing from him, I stand and look down at him.
“I’m so sorry! Oh my God!” I let out a ragged breath of air upon the realization that I touched him in ways he’d flip out over.
His jaw clenches and his hands fist at his sides. The internal battle that wages in his head is in full force. I have to do something.
“Warren, look at me.”
Eyes remain fixed on the coffee table and he doesn’t respond.
Doing the only thing I can think of, I grab the hem of my shirt and tug it from my body. My tiny scrap of black panties are the only thing keeping me from being completely nude.
“Warren, look at me.”
It takes everything in him to drag his gaze to my body but when he does, the relaxing of his muscles is almost instant. His hands are no longer in fists and he rakes them through his chocolate-colored hair in a way that makes me think he’s controlling himself from touching me.
“Follow me,” I instruct.
He blinks a couple of times but stands on shaky legs.
“I won’t touch you but you need to shower so you’ll feel better. Come on.”
I walk off toward his bedroom and am thankful to hear him padding behind me. Once I make it to his bathroom, I push my panties down and start the shower. His shower is a nice walk-in, tiled shower with plenty of space for the two of us. When steam starts to fill the bathroom, I turn to see his hulking frame taking up the doorway.
“Take off your clothes, Warren. I’m not going to hurt you.”
He swallows but heeds my direction. With a quick grip of the bottom of his shirt, he tugs it off his body and up over his head in one swift movement. I chew on my lip when his muscular chest is bared to me. What I wouldn’t do to touch that chest.
“I’ll be waiting,” I say, a hint of sauciness in my voice, and step into the warm spray.
My hope is that he won’t leave me hanging. I want him in more ways than I should. And helping him is my priority.
“I used to be able to run a mile in six minutes. Do you think I can beat that with those shoes? They look awfully fast.” My hope is to distract him with numbers. It must work because he steps into the shower and my mouth hangs open. The man’s body is a beautiful sight to behold. His height combined with his lean physique is a turn on, and my pelvis begins to ache with need.
“I think