Page 36 of Designs on You

Right on time, Eugene. Points for you.

She opened the door, fighting back the gasp as Eugene stood there in dark jeans and a tight white T-shirt that highlighted his amazingly sculpted chest and shoulders and, oh God, his abs.

“Hi,” he finally said, breaking the spell.

She realized that while she was ogling, she’d left him standing on the porch. “Hi. Come in.”

“Something smells good,” he said as they made their way down the hall and into the kitchen.

“Lobster pasta.”

He stopped and turned to face her. “You made lobster pasta?”

She laughed. “It’s not like I went out and caught a lobster, Eugene.”

“Yeah, but…I love lobster pasta.”

She warmed all over, and this time it wasn’t from the oven. “I hope you love this one, then.”

“I know I will. Is there anything I can do to help?”

“No, but thanks. Would you like something to drink? I have wine, beer, and hard liquor.”

His brows shot up. “Planning a big party tonight?”

She laughed. “Not tonight. It’s just a party of two.”

He gave her a heated smile. “I’m good with that. And I’ll have a whiskey. Straight.”

“Sure.” She went to the liquor cabinet, which was high enough that she’d need the stepladder, so she turned to go grab it, only to discover Eugene right behind her. “I’ll get it.”

Now she was trapped between the counter and Eugene. While he reached up to grab the bottle, his chest and crotch pressed against her back and butt.

Oh God, it felt so good to have a man’s body touching hers. And, suddenly, it wasn’t important to get the whiskey or think about the salad. She turned around and pulled him toward her.

His mouth met hers in a fury of passion that made her moan with the need that she’d repressed for so long.

Now this—this was the kiss she’d been waiting so long for. His tongue slid inside her mouth and desire exploded within her, bringing forth a desperate need to be touched and kissed and everything delicious that would follow.

She pulled her mouth from his and murmured, “I need to take the casserole out so it doesn’t burn.”

Breathing heavily against her neck, Eugene whispered, “Yeah, you do that.”

She moved away long enough to take the casserole out of the oven and put it on the top of the stove. Eugene had taken a seat on the sofa, his whiskey glass empty, his legs open and relaxed.

God, he was so hot. She grabbed her wineglass, took a long swallow, and headed toward him.

She climbed onto his lap and straddled him. He had just slid his hands under her dress when her phone buzzed.

“You need to answer that?” he asked as he teased her thighs with his fingertips.

She let out a low moan. “No.” She leaned in and kissed him.

The buzzing stopped, thankfully. But then her voicemail beeped and the phone buzzed again.

She pulled back. “Shit. Sorry.” She grabbed her phone, frowning to see the call was from her ex.

He’d never call her when he had the kids, unless—

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