by Katie Allen
“You don’t have any problem with people seeing your chest, do you?” Despite her effort at keeping her voice casual, a husky note had entered it.
“No problem at all.” His words sounded lower, too, giving them an underlying growl that threatened to make her eyes roll back in her head with lust. “Anyone who gets a glimpse of it is a lucky, lucky fool, in fact.”
Her laugh escaped her like a hiccup, but she was grateful for him. The small, bad joke reminded her that this was Louis, and she loved him, so she could do this thing for him, no matter what kind of chaotic mess it turned her into.
She focused on his shirt, catching the hem and lifting it up, revealing his toned, flexed abs. Swallowing hard, she continued, revealing part of his darkly furred chest before he stopped her. When she looked at him, half relieved and half devastated that it was over so soon, he gave her a teasing eyebrow lift and grabbed the back of his shirt, yanking it over his head in one smooth motion.
In a flash, Louis’s naked upper half was right in front of Annabelle’s face. She felt a little like Hansel and Gretel faced with a whole house of candy to eat. Her mouth actually watered. His olive skin called out to her, and her fingers twitched with the need to touch. She met his eyes, and he nodded, giving permission to her unspoken question.
Although the moment felt surreal—sitting in Louis’s lap, about to put her hands all over him—she was determined to make the most of it. If this was to be the only time she got to fondle him, then fondle she would. The part of her insisting that this was a bad idea had long quieted, muffled by the thumping of her heart and the whoosh of her blood in her ears.
Even though he’d given her the go-ahead, she still reached out slowly, giving him time to change his mind. He didn’t take the opportunity to shy away from her touch, though. Instead, he went still, his only movement the tightening of his fingers on her thighs. The pressure made her squirm, and he immediately lightened his grip. As soon as he did, she missed that strong hold, the only indication—besides the rock-like state of his erection—that he was as wound up as she was.
Focusing on the chest in front of her, she trailed her fingers from his collarbones down the hard slope of his pecs. He sucked in a breath, making his chest rise up and press into her touch, and she went still, checking on his expression. His mouth was set and tight, but his eyes were blazing with heat.
“This okay?” she asked, not sure how to interpret the look on his face. It appeared to her like he was just a fraction of a second away from grabbing her and fucking the stuffing out of her, but she’d also had wine—plus, she was completely intoxicated by the feel of him. Her judgment wasn’t the best at the moment.
His fingers flexed, digging into her quads. “Yeah.” His voice was gruffer than she’d ever heard him sound.
“Sure?” The question was half sincere and half a tease. As she asked, her hands brushed against his skin again, fluttering up and down, back and forth, until his flat nipples were right under her fingertips.
His breath caught audibly. “Yeah, I’m sure.” His words were a small step up from a guttural growl, and she gave a shiver of delight. In all her daydreams and night dreams about Louis, she’d never thought that he could look so...feral. It was completely unexpected...and she loved seeing this primitive side of him.
Unable to resist, she played lightly with his nipples, making them rise into hard points, and then she gave them each a hard squeeze.
His gasp that time was audible as he almost came off the couch. “Holy shit, Annabelle Shay.”
His familiar nickname for her jolted her, and she looked up at his face to see it was white-edged in tension and even hotter than he’d appeared before. His small smile wasn’t the amiable, almost jolly one she’d seen him wearing hundreds of times before. This was a shark-like smirk, a predator’s showing of teeth right before he pounced. Annabelle hesitated, his nipples still hard as pebbles between her fingers.
The practical part of her had gone silent, not even making a peep as she explored his chest, and she wondered if that was because Louis looked so different than he normally did. It didn’t feel like she was straddling her shirtless boss anymore. His foreign expression made it seem like she was caressing the hard chest of a beautiful stranger.
Her curiosity—and her long-repressed desire—wouldn’t allow her to hesitate for long. Her hands started moving again, as if acting of their own volition without any input from her brain. She stroked the skin sheathed over solid muscle, marveling that she was touching Louis Dumont. This wasn’t a dream or a fantasy. This was real.
Her fingers explored each ridge of his abs and then over to the sides of his waist. His skin twitched under her touch, his breath audible, quick, and excited. Her own body heated from the inside out. It didn’t matter that he wasn’t touching her or that this was a platonic experiment that wouldn’t lead to orgasms of any kind. Just getting to feel his naked torso, to tug on the wiry hair dusting his chest, to find the sensitive spot just below his ribs...that was enough.
For now. She ignored the tiny voice in her brain telling her that she’d want more—that she already wanted more—and focused on the spots of thickened skin above his left hip. “What’s this from?” Her voice came out husky and hungry, and she cleared her throat, grasping for a dispassionate calm that was long gone.
“Shrapnel.” He sounded as rough as she had, she was relieved to hear. If he’d been amused or even casual about what they were doing, her desperate need would’ve humiliated her. Instead, he sounded as needy as she felt. Although that should’ve made a different sort of alarm sound, one that said they were flying down a highway at ninety miles per hour and neither of them had any sort of control, she was fiercely glad instead. Maybe it was just the wine or the heat of the moment, but Louis wanted her. After months of hiding her unrequited longing, it was delicious to feel him sweat and shake with desire for her.
“From when you lost your leg?” Her fingers slipped under his waistband feeling for more divots and raised scars, and he sucked in a breath. She paused, knowing that she’d just taken a big step forward by venturing into under-the-pants territory and wanting him to have a chance to call an end to the whole thing. She would hate to have to stop touching him and back off, but she’d do it if he was uncomfortable. As incredible as it was to finally be able to touch him like this, it would taste bitter and awful if he wasn’t enjoying it as much as she was.
“Um.” The sound was affirmative but distracted as his fingers kneaded her hips, his strong hands squeezing to the point of almost-pain before relaxing again. Annabelle’s eyes lowered to half-mast at the incredible sensations his touch was creating, and she struggled to resist the urge to grind against him. “What are the...rules here?”
“Rules?” It was more of a gasp than a word. “What rules?”
His grin had that wild recklessness to it that she’d noticed when she’d first sat on his lap, and it melted her lower stomach into a pit of molten gold. “Is that really my Annabelle Shay tossing the rule book out the window?”
“Just for tonight.” She lost the battle with her hips, and they canted forward, pressing the apex of her thighs against his solid hardness.
His breath escaped him in a hiss, clutching her against him for an infinite moment before he thrust her away, putting a foot of space between them. Cool air rushed over her front that was no longer warmed by Louis’s body, and she sucked in a breath.
“Hang on. Just...hang on a sec.” From his heavy inhales and exhales, he was just as affected as she was by their contact. “No throwing the rule book out right now. We need that book.”
Annabelle shook the lustful daze from her mind. Even after the fog cleared slightly, Louis’s words still weren’t making much sense. “What book do we need?”
“The one with the rules in it.” Despite his still-heaving chest, he seemed to be regaining his composure quickly—at least faster than she
was. Gradually her pounding heart slowed, and the practical voice in her head made an appearance.
“Rules,” she said, more to give herself time to get her scattered thoughts together. Despite all the moments she’d wished to be close to Louis like this, to touch his bare skin and feel his hands on her in return, she was shocked by how quickly it had shattered her common sense. She’d been just moments away from stripping Louis out of his pants, and it wouldn’t have been for any benevolent reason. She just wanted him naked. “You’re right. That was getting a bit...lawless.”
When he smiled, he looked almost back to his normal self, with just the slightest wild gleam in his eyes reminding her of what they’d almost done. “It was...nice, though.”
She paused, eyeing him closely. “Nice?” Although she knew he was teasing her, she couldn’t keep the prickliness out of her tone. Her head had nearly exploded just from touching his chest, and he was using words like nice?
As if he could read her offended thoughts, he chuckled, his gaze heating a few degrees. “Maybe not so much nice as...unexpectedly mind-blowing?”
His correction smoothed her ruffled feathers even as it sent her practical side into a state of panic. What did this mean for the future, or even for the next five minutes? They’d both felt the potential inferno that full-on sex between them would be, so did that mean it would happen again? If Louis wanted this, why had he stopped her? Annabelle! her practical side snapped at her. Just ask him. If you’re close enough to play with his nipples, then you’re close enough to talk about sex.
It was easier said than done, but Annabelle forced the words out, anyway. “So...?” Okay, so she forced out one word. Mentally rolling her eyes at her uncharacteristic shyness, she continued, “What kind of rules are we talking about here?”
“Were we talking about rules?” His gaze dropped to her exposed legs, and his fingers shifted from her hips to the outsides of her thighs, which was just as distracting as their previous position. From his absent question, he was more focused on the feel of her than their conversation.
“Louis.” She waited until his eyes met hers again. “What are we doing?”
His hands slid down to her knees before dropping to the couch. She immediately missed the contact. The loss of his touch made her feel vulnerable and exposed, and she shifted off his lap to curl up in the corner of the couch. Louis frowned but didn’t stop her from moving off him. The blanket had fallen to the floor during the earlier excitement, and she reached down to snag it. Once her legs were covered again, she felt like she was more prepared for the conversation, as if the fleece fabric was armor that would protect her feelings from being hurt.
“Well...” he said, his expression guarded. Annabelle very carefully kept her eyes from drifting down to his tempting naked chest or even lower, to the hard bulge she’d felt pressed against her. “I was practicing getting naked in front of a woman, but that went a bit...sideways.”
Her huff of laughter escaped before she could hold it back. “That’s one way to put it.” She paused, wanting to drop the subject, to head home to her lonely—but uncomplicated—house or, better yet, climb back onto his lap and start kissing him. She shifted as liquid heat shot to her core at the thought, but firmly pushed away the temptation. “I didn’t expect things to get quite so out of control so quickly.” She looked away, glancing around his living room without really seeing it. “I mean, you didn’t even have a chance to take your pants off.”
Louis burst into laughter, drawing Annabelle’s gaze back to him. His head was tipped back, and she hungrily took in the strong line of his throat and the way his chest expanded before each guffaw, even as she started smiling, his amusement as infectious as it always was.
“What?” she asked, and he shook his head, his laughter winding down as he met her eyes.
“Oh, Annabelle Shay, you crack me up.”
“Well, obviously.”
The corners of his mouth were still curled up with residual amusement. “Stay here tonight.”
She blinked, not expecting the invitation, even as her heart leaped with hope. “With you?” Immediately, she wished she could recall the words.
“Yeah, unless you’re going to kick me out?” He was still smiling at her, and the affection in his expression made her chest warm.
“I...uh...” Her thoughts were spinning again, thrown into chaos by his offhand suggestion. She still didn’t know how he felt or what he expected or what this would mean in terms of their working relationship or even what would happen tomorrow. She opened her mouth, planning to decline or at least try to discuss things more. Instead, what popped out was a simple “Okay.”
“Excellent.” He grabbed the remote off the end table and turned on the flat-screen TV mounted on the wall. “Want to watch a movie?”
Her brain scrambled to adjust to yet another zigzag, from platonic conversation to sexy times and back again. Apparently, their sleepover was going to be more of the movie-watching and hair-braiding variety, rather than something in the adult realm. With a silent sigh, she shoved all her screaming hormones back into the box she kept them in and tugged the blanket higher. “Sure, but I get to pick which one.”
He sent her a sideways look that was amused and teasing and missing the feral intensity he’d been radiating just a few minutes earlier. “Uh...that’s not how it works. I have the con.” He held up the remote. “The person with the con gets to pick.”
“Then give me the con.” She held out a hand, but he twisted away, holding the remote on his other side.
“If you have it, then you get to pick.”
“That’s the point.” She eyed him, tempted to jump on him and try to grab the remote. For the sake of her own sanity, she decided against it. Her body had just settled down and accepted that it wasn’t getting any action from Louis tonight. If she ended up straddling him again, pressed against him as they wrestled for control of the remote, things could heat up quickly. Her body temperature rose just thinking about it, proving her point. “Fine, but I call veto power, then.”
“Do I have veto-override?” When she narrowed her eyes at him, he held his free hand up in an innocent pose, a grin tugging at his mouth. “Okay, okay. You have full veto power. Let’s see...seen it, seen it, hmm...that’s a possibility.”
“Nope.”
With an exaggerated sigh, he continued paging through the options, giving a running commentary on the process. Settling more comfortably into his spot on the couch, he reached over and grabbed the bottom of the blanket covering Annabelle. After a bit of a tug-of-war, he managed to spread it out so it covered his lap as well as hers.
“Oh, yeah. Here we go.” He paused over his selection and gave her his best puppy-dog eyes. “This is a good one, right? Please don’t veto. Please don’t veto.”
Although she tried to keep a smile from breaking through, her fortifications against him had been weakened by wine and chest-touching and the fact that she found him so ridiculously endearing. “No veto, but I get to pick the next one.”
“Wait. That wasn’t the agreement.”
“Too bad, so sad. I called it.”
He gave an exaggerated huff and then ruined the dramatic effect by peeking at her out of the corner of his eye. “I like having you here, Annabelle Shay.”
A rush of warmth passed through her, a feeling that was even cozier than the blanket they were sharing. Unable to resist his closeness, she extended her legs and tucked her toes under his residual leg. Louis kept his gaze focused on the TV screen, but a sweet smile made his mouth curl up at the ends.
Despite all the emotional ups and downs of the evening, Annabelle had to agree. She liked being here with Louis, her toes tucked under the warm weight of his thigh. She’d deal with the consequences in the morning. Right now, she was just going to enjoy the movie and that small point of physical contact with Louis. After all, she didn’t know if she’d ha
ve the chance again.
Chapter Eight
She was almost out of time, and that meant it was time for desperate measures. Still, as she huddled between the very prickly overgrown shrubs, she sighed.
“What have I become?” she said under her breath, and then went silent as she heard the front door opening. She waited, holding herself perfectly still, until she heard the click of the lock. Then, she pounced.
“Mr. Storvic!” She jumped out of the bushes, blocking the narrow path to his front door.
“Oh!” He jumped, and she felt an instant of guilt. Hopefully, she wouldn’t give him a heart attack. She didn’t wish any harm on him; all she wanted was to renew her lease. “Ms. Shay. Were you...hiding in the bushes?”
“Of course not.” She discreetly extracted a twig from the loose weave of her sweater. “I just happened to be here just when you came outside. Anyway, I’m having trouble finding a new place to live, so I was hoping I could extend my lease just for a month or so.” When she saw his frozen expression, she tried again. “A few weeks, even?”
“Um...” His gaze darted around as he shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. Her stomach, which had already fallen to a fairly low place, now sank even further. She was going to be homeless in four days. It was obvious from his reaction. “The thing is...my son and his wife are going through a tricky spot in their marriage right now, and, well, he needs a place to stay.”
“He could stay with you,” Annabelle said, even as she knew it was hopeless. She was going to have to move out that week, even though she didn’t have anywhere to move to. She wanted to stomp and scream and throw a tantrum, but she knew that wouldn’t help the situation.
Mr. Storvic grimaced, either at the idea of living with his son or just from the awkwardness of the conversation. “He and my wife don’t exactly get along.”
