Page 105 of Flame
This family is incredible.
The No Girls Allowed chat quietly alerts Foxx of a new message. He clicks on it.
Jess: Okay, Mom’s couch will be done for sure next week. The guy just called.
Banks: I believe nothing until I see it.
Moss: What about the loveseat and chairs?
Jess: Those, too. Are you renting the truck to pick them up, Sparkles?
Banks: Yeah, but I’m not paying for it.
“And I’m out.” He exits the chat and tosses his phone on the sofa. “Are you going to come around here or hide behind me all night?”
I drag my fingertips across the back of his neck and shoulder as I come around the corner. “Miss me?”
“Holy shit, Bianca.” His eyes are wide as his gaze sweeps over my body. “Come here.”
I give him a mischievous grin and walk toward the room’s bar. I’m aware that the slits in the fabric give him a peek-a-boo view of my bare ass. I might even swing my hips a little to accentuate it.
“I need a drink,” I say. “Want something?”
“Oh, okay. I see what you’re doing.”
I look at him across my shoulder. “What do you mean? I’m just getting a drink.”
He swipes his tongue across his bottom lip, positioning his arms along the back of the sofa.
“Did you get your calls made?” I ask as nonchalantly as possible.
“I did.Did you?”
I laugh. “I did.”
He hums.
It takes every shred of restraint not to climb on top of the man and have my way with him.
He’s so sexy without a shirt and only wearing black joggers. His hair is wild, sticking up in a very non-Foxx-like state. But the sexiest thing about him is his grin. It’s playful and roguish—and hits me right in the core.
I pour myself another glass of the wine we picked up on the way home from kayaking.
“We go home in the morning, right?” I ask, taking a sip.
He nods, biting his lip.
“That’s going to suck.” I giggle. “I mean, by the looks of things, that’s all that’s going to suck for the rest of this trip.”
“Nice.”
I wink and take another sip.
The alcohol floods my veins with a warmth that pools in the apex of my thighs. I’m so wet for him. My clit aches for his touch. Every part of me is dying for him to put me out of my misery.
But he knows that.The bastard.
I take a seat in the chair across the coffee table from him. It’s far enough away to keep him from touching me—and me from touching him. Because, right now, I trust my restraint way less than I trust his.
