Page 52 of Wild Love
He snorts. “Learn to take a compliment, woman.”
“Thank you.” I set down the bottle and squeeze my boobs together. “They’re not fake.”
“No? Let me feel.”
I drop my hands, not really expecting he’ll do it. Although this is Johnny Maverick we’re talking about so of course, he does. His big palms cover the lacy material of my bra, and he squeezes lightly.
“Damn, Kota. These are good.”
“Thank you. I grew them myself.”
He keeps squeezing, and the longer his big hands manhandle me, the tighter my nipples become.
He notices and glides a thumb over the peak through my bra.
“Okay, that’s enough show and tell,” I say through a shaky breath. I find my shirt on the floor and cover myself.
“Sorry. Been thinking about your boobs for so long, I wanted to make sure I copped a real good feel to last me the rest of my life.”
I snort-laugh. “You’ve been thinking about my boobs?”
“I think about lots of people’s boobs,” he says with a grin.
“Right. Of course.” I’m suddenly really aware of how drunk I am. “I should sleep, or I’m going to be a wreck for work in the morning.”
He’s quiet, and now I’m all flustered. I don’t know how he’s always so cool and casual.
“You can crash here if that’s easier, or I can help you upstairs.”
“This is fine. Awful couch is growing on me.”
I grab him a pillow and blanket. He’s taken off his jeans and is just in his boxer briefs. He’s hard, and I don’t want to notice, but I do, and my body warms everywhere.
“Here you go.”
He takes one end of the pillow and uses it to tug me onto the couch next to him. “Running away?”
“Being the sane one,” I say.
His gaze drops to my lips, and I wet them with my tongue instinctively.
“Sane is boring. Let’s be wild. Take off your shirt again.”
Chuckling, I shake my head slowly from side to side. “I’m going to bed.”
“Fine,” he calls, lying back and crooking an arm behind his neck.
I walk across the apartment to my bedroom, pause, and look back at him. “And locking my door.”
“No worries there, Kota. You’re safe. I’m waiting for the day you beg me to kiss you.”
He’s out of his mind. “You’re going to be waiting a very long time.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. Night, Dakota. You know where to find me.”
* * *
The next night,I come home to an empty apartment. Reagan calls as I’m sitting down in the living room.
