Page 98 of Beautifully Reckless

“Normally, I don’t. But since I’m off the clock, I decided to have one.”

His voice.

Damn.

There’s no other voice on this Earth that can induce such a visceral reaction in me. I feel it, like sound waves rippling over my skin, soaking into my blood, and shooting adrenaline through my veins.

Not just adrenaline… but something else, too.

Red. Hot. Lava.

I nod, feeling the weight of his stare, suddenly hyper-aware that I’m only wearing his t-shirt, one shoulder exposed to him and the cool air.

“I couldn’t sleep,” I say, stepping slowly into the room, lazily dragging my finger along the edge of a table as I pass by it, glancing around the place to see that it doesn’t resemble a barn at all.

It’s more like a bar. Or a clubhouse. Something way cooler than a barn.

Something sohim.

“My bed not comfy enough?” He smirks, and I shake my head.

“Your bed is heaven.”

“Then why can’t you sleep?” he presses, before sipping his drink again.

As I step closer, only a few feet from his table, I shrug and change the conversation.

“I like this song. What is it?”

“Tennessee Whiskey.” He smirks and my brows shoot up as my hands grip the back of the chair across from him.

“I didn’t take you as a country guy.”

“I’ve got eclectic taste. I’m a mood listener.” He shrugs.

“Oh… so that means you’re like…” I trail off, my cheeks flushing as they tend to do when I get embarrassed.

“Like what, Angel?”

I shake my head, waving my hand to brush it off, but he leans forward on his chair, gaze pinning me in place, his tone deep and expectant.

“Answer me.”

Biting my lip, I consider why I came here.

If I can’t say the words then how the hell am I going to… what? Seduce him? Ask him to touch me?

Am I really that bold?

The way he leans back in his chair, relaxed but watching, one hand wrapped around his glass, his other hand coming to rest on his thigh as he stares up at me… it sends a pulse of heat straight to my core.

I want him.

Wetting my lips, his eyes track the motion, dark and locked in like he’s just as affected by me as I am by him. It sends a flare of power straight to my heart.

“Are you horny?” My voice is husky, and my bold question has his brows shooting high, clearly not expecting those words to fall from my lips.

“Am Ihorny?” he repeats, amused. “You think this song is ahornysong?”

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