Page 18 of Sly Like a Fox
Instead of answering, he cups my face in his hands and kisses me.His lips are warm and sure, moving against mine with confidence that makes my knees weak.When his tongue traces the seam of my lips, I open for him without hesitation, and the kiss becomes something that makes the rest of the world disappear.
I press closer, my hands fisting in his sweater as he backs me against my car.His body is warm and solid against mine, and when he deepens the kiss further, I make a soft sound of appreciation that seems to affect him as much as his touch affects me.
“Jenna…” he whispers against my lips, his voice rougher than before.
I reach up to thread my fingers through his hair, pulling him down for another kiss that’s all tongue and teeth and barely restrained hunger.He responds by pressing me more firmly against the car and sliding his hands down to my waist in a way that makes me arch against him.
The sound of footsteps echoing in the garage breaks the spell.We spring apart, both breathing hard and staring at each other with new awareness.Fenton’s hair is mussed from my fingers, and his usually composed expression shows clear evidence of desire.
“I should go,” he says, though his voice says that’s the last thing he wants to do.
“Should you?”The question slips out before I can stop it, laden with invitation.
For a moment, I think he might accept.His eyes darken, and he takes a step toward me that suggests he’s reconsidering his decision.Then something shifts in his expression.It’s not rejection exactly, but a kind of tight regulation that wasn’t there before.
“Yes.I should.”He reaches out to touch my face gently.“Not because I don’t want to stay.”
“Then why?”
“Because when I do stay, I want it to be for the right reasons.”
The honesty in his response is more arousing than any physical touch could be.He could probably charm me into bed without breaking a sweat, but he’s choosing restraint instead.Either he’s playing a longer game than I’m used to, or he actually cares about more than immediate gratification.
“I’ll call you tomorrow,” he says, pressing another soft kiss to my lips before stepping back.
“Please do.”
I watch him walk to his car nearby, noting the way he moves with predatory grace even in casual clothes.I climb into my vehicle under his watchful gaze.As he drives away, I remain sitting in my driver’s seat, fingertips touching my lips where I can still feel the heat of his kiss.
Driving home through empty streets, I replay every moment of the evening—from his direct phone call to that devastating kiss in the parking garage.The man is a puzzle I’m desperate to solve, but I’m beginning to suspect understanding Fenton Nielsen might require revealing more of myself than I’ve ever been willing to risk.
Bythenextevening,I’m more mixed up than ever, restless and unable to concentrate on anything.I try watching television, organizing my closet, and even attempting to read, but my thoughts keep returning to Chloe’s advice about taking risks and going after what I want, along with our shared kiss and him pulling away.
By 10 p.m., I’ve made a decision that’s either brilliant or completely insane.
I shower, style my hair in loose waves, and apply makeup with more care than usual.Then I slip into my most expensive lingerie.It’s pretty black lace I found still wrapped in original packaging at the thrift store and have been saving for a special occasion.Over it, I pull on my trench coat and nothing else before sliding on heels.
If Fenton wants to take things slowly, it’s time to shake up his wary approach.Tonight, I’m going to find out exactly how interested he really is.After a bit of research to find his address, I’m on my way.
The ride to his building feels both eternal and too short.My fox shifter instincts are on alert, cataloging every detail of my surroundings while my human brain questions the wisdom of showing up at a man’s apartment wearing only underwear and a coat.Throughout, Chloe’s words echo in my mind to stop being scared and go for what I want.
The doorman smiles warmly when I ask for Fenton’s apartment number.“Good evening, Miss.Is Mr.Nielsen expecting you?”
“It’s a surprise,” I say with my most charming smile.“A belated celebration for his successful client presentation today.”
“How thoughtful.”He hesitates.“I should call him…”
“Please don’t.”I sound cool and composed as I up the wattage on my smile.“I really want to surprise him.”
He hesitates another second before nodding.“Go on up.His apartment is 1318.”
The elevator ride to the thirteenth floor gives me time to second-guess my decision approximately seventeen times, but by the time I reach his door, my determination has solidified.Whatever secrets he’s keeping, I’m going to crack through that cultured exterior and see what lies beneath.
I knock softly and call out, “Fenton?It’s Jenna.”
I hear movement inside, followed by his voice getting closer.“Jenna?What are you doing here?”
“I wanted to surprise you.”I adjust my trench coat slightly, ensuring the belt is secure while still hinting at what’s underneath.
