Page 50 of The Stud Next Door (Frisky Business 3)
She couldn’t have spoken too soon. The men clamber up onto the deck, teasing each other and roughhousing like always, with Connor herding them up the steps, a platter full of cooked meat in his hands.
“I hope you ladies came ready to eat,” Connor says. “Come on into the kitchen. We’ve got it all set up in there.”
Everyone files into the house, and I hang back to wait for Connor. He sees me waiting and slips an arm around my waist, kissing the top of my head.
“How’s my little girl doing? Time for a change?” he asks, nodding to Marley.
“I think she’s okay. We should eat first, then I can change her.”
He nods again and pulls me closer to his side. “I like this. Having you here all the time. Hosting with you. Getting to make eyes at you across the yard whenever I want.”
His voice is low, possessive, and impossibly sexy. Suddenly, my skin feels electric under his touch.
“I like this too,” I say, my eyes searching his face. “But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t looking forward to when everyone’s gone.”
His mouth goes slack for a second before twisting into a devilish smile. “You’d better get inside before I do something to make them all leave early.” He leans in and kisses my neck, quick and hot, in just the right place to make me let out a small gasp.
This man will be the death of me.
Connor and I walk inside to find our friends gathered in the kitchen, putting plates of food together and talking loudly about the latest customer horror story from the store.
“And I tried to explain to her as nicely as I could that we don’t accept returns at Frisky Business,” Caleb says, a mischievous glint in his eye. “But this woman just wouldn’t take no for an answer.”
Scarlett shrugs. “So she’s a woman with strong convictions.”
Caleb stares at her incredulously. “It was a used dildo, Scar. There’s no way I was taking that thing back.”
“Okay, can we change the topic, please? Some of us are trying to eat,” Maren says, shooting daggers across the room at Caleb.
When Caleb raises his hands in apology, Hayes shoots him a pointed look. “Maybe a slightly more dinner-friendly topic?”
“How’s the new job, Jessa?” Wolfie asks between bites of his burger.
“It’s still early yet, but so far, so good,” I say.
Connor takes Marley out of my hands so I can make myself a plate of food. “They’re lucky to have her,” he says, “and so are we.”
The girls all sing “awww” in unison, while the boys, I’m sure, are just tucking that sappy comment away to tease Connor about later. They really do like to rib each other like brothers.
We fill in the crew on the new nanny we hired for Marley. She’s in her fifties with four grown children and a grandbaby on the way, and seems to be a perfect fit so far.
After we finish eating, everyone hangs out in the living room to chat for a while before the couples pair off and head home for the night. Connor puts Marley down, and I slip off to the bedroom, where I’ve got a little surprise planned for him.
Marley was pretty tired by the time everyone left, so I know I’ve only got ten minutes tops before Connor joins me in here, and I have to move fast. I slide my sundress over my shoulders and slip into the black lace bra and panty set I bought last weekend, complete with a skimpy, see-through, knee-length robe that I leave untied and open. I can hear Connor walking down the hallway, so I run my fingers through my hair and perch myself on the edge of the bed, one leg crossed over the other.
When Connor steps through the door and lays eyes on me, he stops dead in his tracks. Raw lust washes over his face, and his gaze roams hungrily over my body.
“Hi, there,” I say, uncrossing and recrossing my legs.
“Hi,” he says, his voice a low growl. He walks toward me, his eyes still trained on my body.
“Did Marley go down okay?”
“Mm-hmm. She’s fine,” he says absently, like sleeping babies are the very last thing on his mind.
“Good. So, I was thinking . . .” I let my voice trail off as I play with the tie of my robe.
Connor’s gaze meets mine, his eyes on fire. “Yeah?”
“Remember our first date? All that stuff about accelerators and brakes?”
He chuckles. “It’d be pretty hard to forget.”
“Well, is your engine revving yet?”
With a mischievous look, he pulls me to my feet to fully admire the lingerie. His hands trail over my skin, sending chills down my spine. In that class on our first official date, we’d both indicated lingerie was an accelerator.
He wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me to him, kissing me hard but slow, like he’s drinking me in. When we part, he brings his lips to my ear and murmurs, “My engine’s been revving since you decided to talk dirty on the deck just out of earshot of our friends. But yeah, it’s definitely heated.”
