Page 60 of Mr. Infuriating

I shrugged.

“Honestly, I hadn’t really thought about it. Troy wanted to update the kitchen—which you saw is perfectly fine. I thought he just wanted to have something to brag about. But gosh,” I stepped back to admire Gabe’s craftsmanship in full, “these are amazing. You’re so talented.”

I could tell he was uncomfortable with the compliment when he pretended to play coy by sticking his hands in his pockets and rocking back on his heels. “Aw, shucks. You flatter me.”

I stared him in the eye when I replied, “I’d like to do a lot more than flatter you.”

His eyebrows lifted and a slow smile spread across his face.

“Oh, yeah? Such as…?”

What was it about this man that made me feel so emboldened? Was it because I knew this was just temporary? Or was it the way he looked at me, like I was a goddess?

Maybe it was because this wasn’t the real me. I wasn’t a woman who had one-night stands or fantasized about striking a deal where I used my body as a means to get what I wanted.

No, I was a seventh-grade English teacher and a single mom to a two-year-old boy. In addition to a laundry list of responsibilities a mile long, I had stretch marks, cellulite, and was still carrying an extra ten pounds of baby weight that I hadn’t been able to lose since Jake was born. I wasn’t sexy. Far from it.

But damn, I sure felt like I was whenever Gabe looked at me.

I closed the distance between us and subtly cupped his cock over his jeans.

“Well, for starters, I’d like to wrap my lips around this.”

Who am I?

I had never—in the history of ever—said something like that to a man before. Not to mention, I found that I really meant it.

“Be careful, darlin’,” he warned. “Or you might find yourself bent over the tailgate of my truck.”

While the idea had merit, I’d already given my neighbors a show last night. Far more PDA than they ever saw between me and Troy in the five years we’d lived there together. I’m sure the text thread between the stay-at-home moms’ group was burning up.

Hopefully there weren’t any pictures.

I took a step back while murmuring, “Hold that thought,” then went to the keypad outside the garage and punched in the code so the third stall door lowered, leaving Gabe’s truck on the other side. I approached him again and ran my fingertip down his chest, past his stomach, and circled the button on the fly of his jeans.

“Where were we?”

He pulled me closer while looking down at me with a smirk.

“That closed door’s not going to save you, baby. Tailgate, work bench, stool… I’m not picky about what I bend you over.”

Damn!

“That might be the hottest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

His eyebrows went to his hairline.

“The hottest? Really? I must have been off my game last night if that’s the hottest thing anyone’s ever said to you.”

“You’re right—last night was super-hot. Let me clarify. That’s the hottest thing anyone’s ever said to me with my clothes on.”

“We should rectify thewith your clothes onpart.” Gabe lifted the hem of my sweatshirt with a wicked grin. “ASAP.”

He pulled my shirt over my head and his gaze dropped to my boobs busting out of my lacy black bra.

The sexiest one I owned. And yeah, I’d had to fish around until I found it in the back of my drawer. I hadn’t worn it since before Jake was born, but it still fit. Albeit, now there was a lot more of the twins spilling out, but Gabe didn’t seem to mind.

“Fuuuck,” he groaned as he looked down at my chest. “You are perfect.” Grazing my stiff nipples over the fabric with his thumbs, he continued, “I want to fucking devour you.”

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