Page 13 of The Taste of Charity
“It feels like it’s shrunk since I wore it the last time.”
His heated blue eyes slither down my front and he shoots me a wicked smile. “I like it. If it’s shrunk, I like it better that way.”
“Pervert,” I groan.
“Only with you.” I shove at him and he pretends to fall over.
“You’re an idiot, Jameson.”
“I’m not going to say it but you know what I’m thinking.” He sits down and we both start digging into our food.
His eyes follow my tongue when I lick the delicious sauce off my lips. He groans.
“Got a problem?” I ask, needling him.
“Nope. I’m just thinking about how much I want to drag you home and fuck you until you can’t walk the next day.”
I lick the sauce off my fingers and lean towards him whispering in his ear. “Why don’t you?”
Startled blue eyes stare at me. “I don’t know.”
“Well, you’re never going to get what you want if you don’t at least give it a shot, Jameson.”
“Come home with me, princess. Let me make you feel good.”
And like I’m helpless before his charms, I stand and throw away my trash. “I think that’s an amazing idea.”
It’s been so long, I’m not sure if I remember what to do but I’m damn sure that Jameson will make it totally worthwhile.
He jumps to his feet and throws his trash away then hustles me back to the carriage.
“We need to get back to this address as quick as you can,” he says and then basically throws me up in the carriage.
“Ha!” I cry and then sit down, tucking myself into the carriage rug.
“Hurry,” he grumbles to the driver, clearly hoping that I don’t change my mind on the way back.
Casper tosses his head and I giggle recklessly. Live a little. That’s a much better motto than the one I’ve been subsisting on for all these years.
Casper meanders down the road and I can’t stop giggling as Jameson mutters under his breath, threatening to cut out the tip.
“Let it be. We’ll be there soon enough.
“Not soon enough for me,” he growls and then grabs my hand, tugging me onto his lap. I hiss and try to crawl off his lap, feeling the bulge of his need pressing against my heated core.
“Stay put and don’t even move,” he groans and then I freeze, his arms wrapped around me.
Wriggling my hips, I test out what’s under my ass and he grunts. “You sure don’t listen well, princess.”
Grinning like a maniac I lean into his hard chest and suck in a sharp breath of his unique smell. Like woodsmoke and fresh leaves and grass. All mushed into the best smell in the world.
Jameson cologne. If only. I’d douse myself in it.
CHAPTER8
Charity
Irace him up the steps to his apartment, dodging the chipped sidewalk and the potholes in the grass and everywhere you step.
