Page 52 of Devoured By You
“Men are such simple creatures when it comes to sex.”
“Guilty as charged, and not even remotely apologetic. And I’d wager that if I wanted to distract you from something and used sex as my weapon of choice, it wouldn’t take long for you to capitulate.” I stuck my finger in the hummus and held it out to Jill. “Suck.”
She didn’t hesitate, as I’d known she wouldn’t. Her lips closed around my finger, her eyes on me, lust darkening her hazel irises to a deeper brown. I shifted my position to give my cock a little more room and silently thanked the designer of these shorts for making them spacious enough for horny guys.
“Case in point.” I withdrew my finger. My dick protested. Too bad. This was more important. There was plenty of time for sex.
“Aren’t holiday romances supposed to be all sex and no chat?”
Something shifted in my chest, an alien feeling that felt too much like regret for my liking. In seven days, we’d return to Miami, and Jill and I would go our separate ways. That was the deal we’d made. Yet the more the inevitable crept toward me, the greater the ache inside me grew.
“Stop procrastinating.”
“Ugh.” Her head flopped against the back of her chair, and her cheeks puffed out as she expelled air from her lungs. “I’m a writer. Procrastinating is what we do.”
I chuckled and stayed silent. A well-trodden business technique that had many uses outside the boardroom. A few seconds passed, and as I’d anticipated, Jill caved.
“I have no evidence that they’ll drop me if I deliver late or if I tell my editor how much I’m struggling.” Her eyes narrowed. “But you knew that already, didn’t you?”
“I mean…” I shrugged. “I could have been wrong.” A hint of a smile lifted my lips.
“Double ugh. Smart and beautiful.”
I reached for her, taking her hand in mine. “Right back at you, gorgeous. Now, please, stop worrying, take the bull by the horns, and email your editor and tell her what’s going on.” I released her, staring pointedly.
Her eyes flashed open wide. “Now?”
I popped an eyebrow. “Why not?”
“Because… because it’s… it’s stupid.”
A laugh rippled through my chest. “Or maybe, just maybe, it’ll take some of the pressure off you, allowing you to enjoy the rest of your vacation without a dark cloud of unproven worry hanging over your head.”
Jill chewed the corner of her mouth. I waited for her to mull it over, sampling a salmon skin roll in the meantime.
“Okay, I’ll do it.” Reaching into her bag, she removed her phone, her fingers trembling as she typed out an email. Two minutes later, she tossed her phone onto the table. “Done. God, I feel sick.” Bending over, she curled her hands around her abdomen.
“Come here.” I rose from my chair and took both her hands, helping her up. My arms encircled her waist. “Well done.”
“If this goes pear-shaped, I’m holding you entirely responsible.”
“If this goes pear-shaped, I’ll buy the fucking publishing house and publish you myself.”
Shock stirred behind her eyes. “You wouldn’t.”
“Oh, I would.”
A ping sounded from her phone. She froze. “Shit. Do you think that’s her reply?”
I let her go, pressing my fingertips to my temples. “Hold on. I’m just tuning in to my psychic abilities.”
A flash of amusement registered in her eyes. “Such a comedian.”
“Jill.” I sighed. “Check your goddamn phone. The sooner you do, the sooner I can undress you and fuck you in the pool.”
“With charm like that, no wonder you’re fighting women off.”
I flattened my lips. “You’re procrastinating again. I swear, I’ll knock that out of you if it’s the last thing I do.”