Page 19 of Snowbound
I shrug and try to be evasive. “I handle a few contract issues for men I know overseas.”
She narrows her eyes. “That doesn’t sound fishy atall.”
I smile. “You asked. I gave you an answer.”
“Right,” she says, returning the smile. “So you do contract work for men you know in Ireland. What kind of contract work?”
“The kind I can’t talk about,” I say cryptically.
She bites her lip, looking away.
“What is it?” I ask.
Our eyes meet. And there it is again, that slow-burning heat that coils between us.
“I was just remembering something else.” Her voice lowers and becomes breathy.
“Hmm?” I reach for her feet, taking one gently into my hand. I rub the pads of my thumbs along the arch.
She moans.
Oh, JesusfeckingChrist.
When her eyes roll back like that as she moans, it makes my cock throb.
“Does that feel good?” I ask, my voice low.
“Yes,” she whispers. “Do it again.”
It sounds like she’s asking for more than just a foot rub. And Christ, what I want to do to her… now that I’ve got her alone.
“What do you do at work, Emma?” I ask gently, as if I don’t know. “What have you done with yourself?” I feel like an arsehole feigning ignorance.
“I’m a writer,” she says with a sigh. “A writer with a deadline… and I’m completely and utterly blocked. I have no idea what to do about it.”
That’s a lie, but I don’t call her out on it.
“What does it mean to be blocked?” I ask.
“It means you stare at your computer for hours and write, like, three words,” she grumbles. Her voice shakes, though, like she’s going to cry.
I press the pad of my thumb into the arch of her foot.
“Oh god.” She moans. “Keep doing that, and I might be unblocked again…”
I pick up her other foot and start rubbing that one too.
At first, I was checking for warmth, but now that it’s in my hand, I don’t want to let it go.
She’s so soft. So petite.
“And it’s not going well for you?” I ask.
“No,” she says, with a smile that doesn't reach her eyes. “Not at all.”
“Right,” I say, getting to my feet. “Let’s do something about that.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
