Page 43 of The Naughty List
He won. Fair and square.
But I grew up with brothers in a household that thrived on competition.
“Please, Jonah? Help me rinse this out? It’s like cement when it hardens.”
I lean over the sink, turn on the faucet and reach for the retractable nozzle.
Jonah comes closer with an apologetic look on his face. “Here, maybe if you—”
Sucker.
He doesn’t get a chance to finish before I nail him square in the chest with the high-powered spray. Then I get him in the face, just for good measure.
His hands come up in a useless defense as he turns his head away from the jet stream.
“Quit! Dammit, Hollis. Stop that.”
I would. But my brothers taught me one very important lesson.
Doesn’t matter who starts the fight, all that matters is who finishes it.
Once he’s sopping wet, literally dripping onto the floor, I ease off the trigger.
“Truce?”
Jonah just stares at me.
“Jonah? Truce? Or you want some more?” I give the trigger a light squeeze and release a weak taunting stream of water. “Thirsty?”
His eyes bore into mine and my nerves threaten to make me cave. Is he mad? Did I take it too far?
My teeth sink into my lower lip as he brings his soaked body so close our chests are touching. Like, full on, my boobs are smashed into his rock hard pectoral muscles.
He touches only my chin, but I feel it everywhere.
“You are so fucking beautiful, Hollis. I can’t figure out if you’re a gift from above or my punishment.”
I swallow thickly, air whooshing out of my lungs from the abrupt turn of events.
“Jonah,” I say, hearing the breathlessness in my voice. My hands lift to his shoulders and I don’t think. Lifting onto my tip toes, I crash my lips against his.
He pulls back looking like I’ve electrocuted him. I cover my lips as if I’m ashamed at how they’ve behaved. Before I can apologize, I’m airborne, in his arms, then on the counter. He presses into my personal space. I’m so hot for him I can’t stand it.
“You got a little something here,” he says, kissing me tenderly on the neck.
Jonah’s. Mouth. Is. On. Me.
My head leans heavily to the side, granting him better access. My skin is branded everywhere his lips touch. Another scorching kiss just below my ear. A fire trail blazing across my jawline.
“I knew you would taste so fucking good. Sweet, just like I imagined.”
He imagined how I would taste.
“It’s probably the icing.”
“It’s not. It’s you.”
My reflexes kick in before my brain catches up and I tug at his shirt, needing his mouth on mine again.
