Page 8 of Worth the Wait

He’d given up shaving his head since changing jobs. Given up other old habits recently too. “You tell me.” He slid the cap from his head and swiped his hand over the top section. “Is this good?”

“Oh my god, you’ve got hair now. I mean, I noticed the little bit at the bottom of your hat, but I assumed it was stubble because you hadn’t shaved for a couple of days, not that you actually had hair now. You look younger with hair.”

Not “you look good with hair” or “you look different with hair”.Younger.And given her diminishing smile, that didn’t seem to be a positive.

Having been her trainer, he had the advantage of knowing her age—and the size of the gap between them. No big deal. To him, at least.

He could prove that easily enough. “Want to know how old I am?”

“Probably not.”

“Twenty-eight. For a couple more months, anyway.”

“Oh, Sam. You should be out clubbing with the under-thirties, not holed-up here, baking cookies with a forty-two-year-old single mother.”

He shoved the cap in his back pocket while stalking squarely into her personal space. At an even six feet, he wasn’t one of those guys who towered over everybody. But he had more than half a foot on Miss Short’n’Sweet, and a lot more width across the shoulders. Enough presence to accompany what he wanted to say.

“Let me straighten you out about a few things, Leigh. You’re a mother, but you don’t get to mother me. I’m not wet behind the ears when it comes to women. Being ‘under thirty’ doesn’t mean I have a sack of wild oats I still need to sow or that I want my weekends to be meaningless wastes of time. I cook, I clean and I don’t ruin laundry. I have a degree in math, but I don’t give a shit about the numbers twenty-eight or forty-two.”

If Leigh preferred subtler men, probably best for both of them he’d shown her he didn’t fall into that group.

“Oh, screw it…” She wrapped her arms around his neck and ran her fingers over his hair. No subtlety on her side of this equation either, given the way she pulled his head down. Zero hesitation when her lips parted in invitation. She slid her tongue into his mouth, touched his. Made a soft little moan as she opened for him completely.

Sweet as honey and wild as a thunderstorm. He grabbed her waist and pulled her closer. Tight as he could get her with their clothes on. Goddamn apron ties. He battled the knot and won. Shoved her t-shirt out of the way and groaned when he connected with soft, silky skin.

She answered by curling her leg around his hip. By capturing his tongue and sucking it into her mouth. Torture, and he couldn’t get enough of it.

“My office,” she whispered against his mouth. “At the back, to the left.”

“Can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because the only thing keeping me in check is the fact that we’ll be violating a ton of health codes if I touch you the way I want to. If we move out of this kitchen, that reason will be gone, along with my gentlemanly intentions.”

“Exactly.” She dragged her fingernails over his t-shirt-covered back before grabbing his butt and squeezing. “There’s a desk in my office.”

“I came here to ask you on a date, not fuck you on your desk.”

One eyebrow rose and a sexy, teasing smile tipped her mouth. “And these things are mutually exclusive?” She slid one hand under his belt. “Hmm?”

Fuck, how was he supposed to think with her hand down his pants? Especially since she was heading toward the front. “Leigh…” He sucked in his breath when her fingertips grazed the tip of his cock through his boxers. To give her more room to explore—hell yeah. He was trying to be a gentleman, but he was still a man. His hips thrust instinctively as her fingers curled around his cloth-covered cock and stroked.

“Itfeelslike you want to fuck me on my desk.”

“Never said I didn’t.”

She used her other hand to unbuckle and unzip him. Peeled his boxers down. Slipped inside and cupped his bare skin.

That much, he could’ve taken. The hungry eyes and pink tongue running over her juicy bottom lip were too much.

“It’s going to cost me a ton of guy points, but I’m going to take a step back and zip up.”

“Keep the points. I want you.” Another stroke up his shaft further eroded his willpower. “And I’m pretty sure you want me.”

“Oh, I do. So fucking much. But it’s going to have to wait until later. I’ve been thinking about getting you naked for a very long time, Leigh, and when I finally do, it’ll be someplace where I can lay you out and take my time enjoying every gorgeous inch of you.” Somehow, he did the impossible and took that step back.

Jesus, the flush on her cheeks, her eyes following his hands as he shifted and tucked his cock away, her pupils so large they practically overtook the soft gray of her irises.

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