Page 40 of Out of Sight

He paused to swallow hard and I resisted the urge to fan myself.

“Plus you told me not to call you ‘baby.’” He gave me one more parting smile from the doorway, then he was gone, the door clicking closed behind him.

Whew!

When was the last time someone took care of me? Excluding federal agents being paid to protect me, it was probably back when I was a child, when my dad still hired a nanny to look after me when he was out of the country on some mission or another.

But I was feeling anything but childlike. I felt like a woman.

What was it about a man’s strong arm around you, hand barely brushing the small of your back that makes you feel… treasured? Was it that mix of affection and protection? The gentle way his fingers grazed across my body, intimate without feeling aggressive?

I sat on the bed and that damn protein shake stared at me from the nightstand. He thought of everything.

What would it be like if Will took care of me in other ways?

Would he be just as aggressive and take-charge as he was at the airport in Omaha? Would he be just as kind and generous as he was just a moment ago? Would he tease and taunt and push me to my limits until I couldn’t take it anymore like during our workout?

Would he touch me until I came?

I imagined his hands would be bold, but gentle. They’d glide over my body, getting more wicked and daring with each pass until he was feeling me all over and touching me where I needed him most and covering every inch of my skin with his.

Of their own accord my hands mimicked what Will would do, running down my stomach to my hips before slowly grazing up to my breasts.

My nipples were still hard as my fingers slipped under my sweater and I gasped. It had been so long since I bothered to touch myself—let alone had someone else to do it—and I was just so incredibly sensitive. I threw my sweater off, getting warm already.

My hands went back to my breasts, but even the soft cotton of my bra was too rough a texture for my sensitive nipples. I unhooked the bra, tossing it in the vicinity of my sweater.

Will’s hands were so much bigger than mine. He’d offer a fuller, firmer grip on my breasts than I could provide for myself. He’d hold them in his hands: feeling, caressing, grasping. My nipples would fit in the palms of his hands, hardening even further at his touch.

I let out a soft moan, feeling a physical pain at the ache for his touch. I bit my lip to hold any other noises back. No one else in the house needed to know what I was doing.

I let one hand drift down into the waistband of my yoga pants, fingertips lightly running over my panties before slipping inside.

I whimpered, wishing the fingers weren’t my own.

My fingers nestled into that beautiful spot between my legs, slipping through moisture and caressing my dormant bundle of nerves to life.

It didn’t take long. My body was so hyper-aware of every touch, every breath I took, every whisper of a breeze from the heater warming up the crisp spring morning.

I fell apart within minutes, Will’s name caught in my throat.

God, I think I’m falling for him.

fifteen

Will

It had been two days since our first workout, and I was getting more and more sure that Claire really did feel something for me. It was clear from the start how much chemistry we had in just one look, but this felt like something more than instant attraction, something infinitely more intense.

I wasn’t going to rush into anything. I told her the ball was in her court and I meant it. I was a gentleman and I knew how important it was to respect a woman’s choices, but I was also impatient and wanted to know what she was thinking. I weighed the evidence.

Claire stopped making fun of me (for the most part), didn’t use her ruthless hands to smack me (unless I really deserved it), and she didn’t glare or grimace when I walked into the room anymore (at all)!

She dressed up in that sexy workout getup again the past couple mornings, up bright and early with the sun to get in arun and weight training. She gasped and complained a lot, but still teased and smiled. I was starting to think that she actually enjoying working out and flirting with me.

That made it all the harder to keep my hands to myself.

I had to resist the urge to stroke her gorgeous honey hair as it bounced around when she jogged. I avoided as much bodily contact as possible when I had to get close and show her how to do a certain exercise or stretch. I didn’t even stare at her mouth when she spoke, no matter how much it looked like those lips were begging to be kissed again.

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