Yogasm: A Romantic Comedy - Page 14

He takes a step in my direction as Prince comes bounding out of the back, and Toni squeals, kneeling in front of him and letting him lap her little face.

“Honestly,” Miguel says in this casual way that makes my nipples furl, “I have a much better idea of what I’m going to do with you.”

He’s hitting on me.

He is so hitting on me.

“Oh?” I reach for a leftover slice of peach and plop it in my mouth. I chew, trying to pretend the way juice drips down my chin was absolutely, totally intentional. I slurp the juice off and swipe my hand across my mouth and inwardly cringe. So very ladylike.

I don’t miss the way his eyes catch every movement. The way his Adam’s apple bobs when he swallows, or the way his eyes grow heated, watching me slurp up the juice.

I may be a virgin, but I’m not brainless.

The man is turned on, and my virginal thighs clench in excitement.

“I’m going to take you back to my place,” he begins, leaning across the counter so I get a whiff of his uber-masculine cologne. I sniff harder, and hopefully discreetly. “And I’m…”

We’re interrupted by a squeal and a giggle as the door to the shop swings open, a woman with a dog on a leash walks by, and to my utter horror, Prince takes off out the door. Toni screams and chases after him.

“Toni, no!” I yell and vault myself right over the counter. I fall clumsily, but Miguel’s already out the door before me.

“Prince!” I yell. “Toni!”

Toni’s chasing Prince down the street toward the intersection and my heartbeat races. No, no, no! She isn’t slowing, and I don’t even know if she knows how to cross a damn street, and if Prince runs into the street—

It all happens in a matter of seconds. Prince leaps into the road, just as Miguel catches up with Toni and grabs her by the back of the shirt, just as she lunges for Prince, and the three of them fall into a tumbling heap headfirst right in the middle of the road.

“Stop!” Miguel thunders.

I scream as cars honk, tires screech, and everything comes to a stuttering, terrifying halt. Apparently, even the cars obey his command, though I think he was yelling at Prince.

Seconds later, a furious Santiago faces me, Toni under one arm and Prince under the other. I’m breathing heavily and feel like I’m about to cry.

“You’re coming back with me,” he snaps, like this is all my fault.

“Oh, thank God,” I say, kissing Prince’s fluffy little head. I reach for Toni and give her a quick embrace. I don’t really think about the fact that she’s tucked under Miguel’s arm until I turn away and find us nose-to-nose. If I stretched a bit, my cheek would hit stubble.

Yum.

I blink, momentarily stunned, as what he just said dawns on me.

“Wait, what? Why would I come back with you?”

“Because clearly you can’t be left to your own devices.”

My jaw drops. “Are you for real?”

He shakes his head and curses under his breath. “You need a leash,” he grates.

I blink. A leash? Is the guy, like, a fetishist?

I could maybe get into that, though.

No, wait. My jaw drops open. “Excuse me?”

He puts Toni down on the sidewalk and leans in, his scent all raw and sexy as he purrs in my ear, “For your dog, Samantha. Though now that you mention it—”

“Do not finish that sentence. Do not even think of finishing that sentence.”

His lips twitch as my mind instantly conjures up an image of him wielding a riding crop, and is that porn music playing in the background? It’s a yummy image. I shake my head, vowing to never reread Fifty Shades ever again.

“Please, Sam,” Toni says, brushing herself off. “Come back with us? I want to tell you more about my mother.”

“Come back where?” I ask.

He frowns and takes out his phone. “My place. Not far, Beacon Hill. Help us get settled, and I’ll pay you the nanny rate.”

I want to tell him where he can shove his money, but… ohmigod I’ve always wanted to visit Beacon Hill. Squeee! It’s where the Kennedys and movie stars have always lived in Boston.

He scowls at his phone and places a call.

“I can’t tonight,” I say, taking Prince from him. Our fingers brush, and I ignore the way my skin heats.

The man is an ass.

He’s a stuck-up jerkface who wants everything his way or the highway, and I have a distinct feeling that if I keep allowing him to corner me into babysitting, I’m going to be more Toni’s nanny than her detective, and as much as my heart aches to help this girl, I can’t let myself get roped into that.

Toni looks at me with such a baleful expression, I almost cave, but I stand firm.

Tags: Jane Henry Erotic
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