Something About a Hot Guy - Page 8

I glanced around, wanting to say things I probably shouldn’t say. To tell her she was amazing and wonderful, tell her about all the things I’d observed over the years that made her the best person I’d ever met, and that it was time she shed that shell, embraced who she was.

But did I really have the right to give that kind of advice when I’d never had to walk in her shoes?

I needed to get away from this girl before I kept pushing it. Hell, I’d been back for all of five minutes, and I’d already pushed her harder than I ever had. Climbed right over the boundaries I’d set up when it came to Kenna Myer.

Maybe I was just tired of ignoring the way I felt about her. No matter how many girlfriends I’d had, how many one-nights and flings, this feeling didn’t seem to know how to go away.

“All right, then . . . I’m going to grab a shower and let you get to work.”

Redness streaked up her cheeks, and I got the sense that she was actually imagining me naked.

Fuck.

Not helping things.

“I’ll try to stay out of your way.”

She looked at me like she thought I was telling her a lie. Two of us completely aware of the other. Every step and every breath.

And I was wondering again if maybe she felt me, too.

I grabbed my bag from the floor and headed for the shower, turned on the heat as high as it would go, and climbed into the steam surrounded by the scent of citrus and more of the pink she’d decorated the place in.

And I jerked it harder than I ever had.

* * *

So, the jerking off hadn’t helped my situation at all.

I’d tried to keep myself occupied the entire day, let her work in peace as she’d graded freshman language arts essays. She’d sat on the couch with the sunlight pouring over her, her laptop balanced on her crisscrossed legs, the girl looking like she was posing for some some kind of perfect Instagram shot.

Hashtag hot nerd.

I’d pretended to be busy on my own laptop at the small kitchen table, answering emails and scheduling appointments for next week, but my attention kept drifting to her. Getting locked on the soft profile of her face. At the way the lush dark locks tumbled down her neck. At the way she moved her lips as she read the essays, so into it, I could almost feel her vibrating.

Once the sun had dimmed and begun to set, I’d ordered a pizza for us to share after she’d explained she still had a couple hours left of work.

Now, I brushed my teeth and pulled on some sleep pants, figuring I’d make good on my promise about not walking around in my underwear, all the while wondering what she might do if I threw all rationale out the window and went for it.

Blowing out a strained sigh toward the mirror, I tried to shake off the disorder I was feeling. I’d barely been here a day, and this was already proving impossible.

I headed out into the hall. Her bedroom door was resting open on the jamb, a light burning around the rim. She was probably in there, changing, getting ready to climb under the covers.

I could only picture her doing it. Bare legs and full breasts and messy hair.

Shit.

I wasn’t really up-to-date with proper roommate etiquette, but I was pretty sure picturing them naked was a no-go.

Slipping by her door, I turned the corner into the main room, heading for the kitchen to grab one of the beers I’d seen in there earlier. Most of the lights had been cut, the space only illuminated by the dim lights mounted under the cabinets.

My heart jumped into my throat when I noticed the silhouette of a body standing at the sink facing away.

A lush, curved, gorgeous body.

I kept my footsteps quiet as I started around the high bar that sectioned off the kitchen from the living room. She was gulping down a glass of water, totally oblivious to the fact that I was there.

Until she wasn’t.

Until her spine stiffened and awareness flooded from her in surging waves, a vibration coming off her that made me question if I really was the only one who felt this crazy attraction.

If I was the only one who was crazy with lust.

Crazy with need.

She was still wearing the sweatshirt that fell off one shoulder, the delicate skin of her neck bare.

I had the overwhelming urge to press my nose to the slope of it. Inhale and lick and suck.

Instead, I kept myself in check and stopped an inch away.

Okay, in check was stretching it because I leaned. So close I could almost taste her flesh, the aura of this girl making me feel like I was standing in the sun.

Tags: A.L. Jackson Erotic
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