Page 92 of Lovingly Restored

“One, I need a stand for the front yard. To sell my flowers. The season isn’t over yet!” I clap my hands excitedly.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re a bit greedy?” Our hips meet, and I press myself against him, as much as I can with a tool belt in the way.

“You havenoidea.“ I catch him off guard with a kiss.

“Mmm, what’s the second thing?”

“Tell me you love me.”

I’m searching his eyes for a hint of what he’ll say next, and it’s so obvious I could cry.

“I love you so much, Ashlyn. All of this is for you.”

“I love you too,” I whisper.

I step forward between his legs, and he mirrors my movement, stepping back. The workshop door is wide open, and I pepper his mouth with kisses as I try to march us into the privacy of his man cave. I want him inside those four walls.

He tries to speak against my lips. “Ash–”

We trip inside, the space so dark after being in the bright light. I shut my eyes and lose myself in the smell of his skin, the way he tastes, absorbing his energy and trying to make up for lost time. When I rise onto my toes my heels pop out my sandals. I try desperately to press us closer together. The tool belt might look hot as hell, but it’s not conducive to proximity.

I tug at the soft leather, looking for some type of buckle or clasp. “This is like a goddamn chastity belt, Lauri.”

“Ashlyn, would you stop for a second.” He seizes my wandering hands.

“What!” I snap.

A trio of chuckles comes from the corner where Chris, Berg, and Dean stand with open beers. Berg is sufficiently mortified whereas Chris and Dean look like they need popcorn. My cheeks burn as I bury my face in Isaac’s warm chest.

“Get out!” Isaac roars, gesturing to the door.

“You heard the boss.” Berg claps his hands together and leads the way out of the workshop.

They file out quickly.

Isaac’s hands skim over my hips, squeezing. I moan appreciatively at the strength of his big hands.

“Um, Ashlyn?” Chris says from the doorway. “Should I tell Anna to leave?”

“OUT!” Isaac snarls.

“Yep, sorry.” The door bangs behind him, shutting out the summer heat, and then we’re alone.

Chapter thirty-one

Isaac

HavingAshlynattemptingtoclaw her way inside my clothes is something I envisioned for way too long and much too often. With the audience gone, I can finally act out the fantasy.

“You have a lot of complaints about my clothing. First the button fly jeans, now the tool belt,” I tease.

“Only items that prevent me from accessing your...um…” She licks her lips and looks down between us.

“Cock?” I offer.

Damn, I missed the way that word causes redness to spread across her cheeks.

“I thought there was no horseplay in the workshop,” she says sweetly.

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