Page 29 of Hammered (Dad Bod Contracting 1)
“I’m basically broke, Jesse.”
He does the smirk again. “Yeah, but you just got a new job, didn’t you?”
“How’d you know?”
“Because Dr. Waverley called me to tell me thanks for sending you her way.”
“Yes, I did get a new job, and I’ll be making double what I was. So I owe you a big thanks, too.”
He smiles. “You’re welcome.” His smile widens, heats, turns mischievous, almost wicked. “There’s one other way I might be able to help you out.”
“With my underserved libido?” I breathe.
His laugh is an amused, aroused rumble. “That wasn’t what I was going to say, but yes, I’d love to help rectify your underserved libido.” He lifts his hands and cups my cheeks. “What I was going to say was that it’s a sin a perfect pair of lips like yours haven’t been kissed in so long, and I volunteer my services.”
“Oh…you mean…” I begin, my voice breathy.
“Meaning I’m going to kiss the hell out of you right now, unless you stop me.”
“I’m not stopping you,” I say, a little too quickly.
His laugh is knowing. His palms are warm and rough against my cheeks, and his thumbs scrape over my cheekbones, and I’m not breathing, and he’s everything in front of me, all around me, blocking me in with his big body. And then his lips brush mine, a slow, hesitant, questing touch—a warning. I barely have time to register this is happening—that he’s kissing me—and then the kiss is changing, and I’m struggling to keep up. His mouth firms against mine, and his tongue flicks against my lips—my mouth opens at that request, and then his lips are pliant and demanding and hungry and—
I’ve never been kissed like this. Not ever.
I can’t breathe, but I don’t need to. He’s all the oxygen I need. I’m dizzy, spinning. Leaning against him. My hands are flat on his chest, and now my fingers claw into his pecs, and I’m lifting up on my toes going for more, tasting his tongue and twining mine with his and exploring his mouth and hungering for him.
My thighs clench and my core heats, weeps. God I need this. I need him. I need more.
Holy shit.
He’s still kissing me, like he can’t get enough, like he’s carried away by this as much as I am. Oh god, I can feel the weight of more towering behind this kiss, laced through it. There’s so much more than just this kiss and I want it all, but right now, this kiss is all I can handle.
All too soon he’s pulling away, and he’s breathing hard.
“Oh god,” I whimper. “Why’d you stop?”
“Because I want to show you what Franco and I did in here today.” He backs away, raking a hand through his unruly hair. “And because if I didn’t stop, I wouldn’t be able to stop at all.”
“Would that be such a bad thing?”
“If we go there together, Imogen, it won’t be quick or sudden or unexpected, and it won’t be up against your front door.” His eyes burn, bright hot intense brown. “If we go there together, Imogen, it’ll be goddamned magical. It’ll be something you’ll never forget as long as you fucking live.”
I close my eyes and breathe carefully. “Show me what you did, Jesse,” I say, after I’ve opened my eyes and can function something close to normal.
He backs away a little further, staring at me hard. “Yeah.”
He turns away, but not before I see the bulge against his zipper is very large, and very prominent evidence that he’s as affected by the kiss as I am. Which doesn’t do much for my resolve. I tighten my jaw and clench my fists, making a concerted effort to not stare at his ass as he leads me out of the front hallway into the living room.
“Take a look,” he says, gesturing at the front window.
I stop in my tracks, halfway into the living room. “What? How? Why?”
There were a total of four windows in my living room, two facing the front, two facing the back. These four windows and the amount of natural light they let in were one of the selling points of this house for me. But those had been small, narrow and short, with thick glass panes and lots of heavy lead crosses. Even so, they’d let in a lot of light…they’d also let in a lot of drafts in the winter.
Jesse had replaced all four windows with ones to match the brand new window in the kitchen, so now my walls on both sides of the living room were entirely glass. The room felt like it had been expanded several dozen square feet, and with them cranked open like they were, there was a beautiful cross-breeze—enough wind to not just ruffle my hair a little, but to actually cool the room off considerably.
