Page 38 of Taming Grumpy Dr. Beast
What was I thinking?
I blamed my active imagination on all the sexy romance novels I liked to read.
I’m a glutton for punishment, apparently. I couldn’t keep my eyes off of him. It was like him helping to rescue the dog flipped a switch in me. He checked off the extremely handsome box before, but now that I’d seen a softer side, he was outrageously gorgeous.
Discreetly, I glanced at him from the corner of my eye while he cut up his food. He slid the bite into his mouth, which on anyone else wouldn’t be noteworthy. On him? The way his lips wrapped around the fork ignited a spark of envy in me for the most ridiculous reason.Could I really be jealous of a fork?
I stole another look at him and then reminded myself my job was at stake. Why had I thought sitting next to him wouldn’t be difficult? Watching him eat was like food porn. Was that even a thing? Do people get off on watching someone eat? If so, I kind of understood it now.
Each movement was sexy, each bite of food made me wonder what those lips could do to my body. Thinking about it made my breath quicken. I needed to think about something else. Fast.
My gaze slipped down from his mouth to his forearms. Tonight he’d pushed up the sleeves to his elbows, revealing a line of tattoos down his arms. I so badly wanted to get a closer look at the designs.
I mean, could he get any sexier? His body was close enough to mine that I could easily reach over the few inches separating us to trail my fingertips down the various shades of ink. I wondered how far up his arms they went and if he had any on other parts of his body. On one forearm a trail of large roses wrapped up and around an item I couldn't see clearly. The other arm started with the same roses and then changed into Celtic-like symbols.
The thought of someone with tattoos had never intrigued me. The reality of it, though, was very hot.
Crap!I needed to get my thoughts under control. I knew it’d been a while since I’d last slept with a guy, but this was crazy. Why couldn’t I shut these thoughts down?
“Lily?” Jaxon said sharply, a slightly amused tone to his voice. How many times had he called my name while I was objectifying him?
My eyes shot up to his, but he didn’t meet my gaze. Instead, his eyes were fixed on my mouth. If I wasn’t mistaken, a hungry longing flickered across his eyes before they lifted to meet mine. I shook my head, refusing to give into these lustful thoughts. I had to be imagining this.
“I’m sorry. What did you say?” I asked, once I regained my composure.
“I asked if you had any other family members outside of you and your father?”
Without realizing it, he’d effectively cooled any sexy time thoughts I was having. I wanted to thank him and throttle him for it. “No, just Dad and me. You?”
“I’m an only child, and I rarely see my parents.” He shrugged.
“Oh.” I fiddled with my fork. What else could I say that was witty or wise? I’d even take only a little boring at this point. “Where did you come across an original Laurent Toussaint’s book of poetry?” I asked, referencing the book I was to restore and translate.
A shit-eating grin stretched across Jaxon’s face. It was a look I wasn’t used to seeing on him, and I liked it. “I found it in a box at a local antique shop and made an offer.”
“Where?” I took a bite of my food. My God, this was incredible. The filet mignon practically melted in my mouth, and the twice-baked potatoes were delicious.
“Rhode Island.”
I gasped. How had he found such a rare book in our little state? “Wow! Really? In Providence?”
“Wakefield,” he responded.
I’d already researched the poetry book after seeing that was what I’d be working on while I was here. “I still can’t believe it. I read that only ten copies remain. He’s an obscure poet. You must really know this genre to have realized what a find that was.”
Jaxon grunted.
I assumed that meant yes. “What is your favorite poem by Toussaint?”
“Favorite?” He paused before placing the next bite of food in his mouth.
I immediately regretted asking him that particular question. Poetry was personal. Did he really want me to know?
I rushed in to fill the void. Even knowing I was rambling, and probably not making sense, I pushed on. “A poem in one of his other less popular books is mine.”
Jaxon now had his entire attention focused on me.Abort, abort,my brain screamed at me.Run away as fast as you can!
No, I was not going to listen to my panicked mind. I was going to stay. I wasn’t much of a cook, and this meal was the best I’d had in a while. If I left now, not only would I still be hungry later, but he would think I was strange. We were talking about poetry, not his preferred sexual position.
