Page 56 of Mine to Share

And the sexy-as-sin man half naked downstairs in my kitchen.

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Thirty minutesand about a pound of body hair removed later, I stood at the top of the stairs, toes curling around the step’s edge. Tucking a few dark strands behind my ear, I gripped the railing as I leaned forward, straining to hear movement in the living room.

Besides the soft, unfamiliar voices—what I assumed was the TV—I heard nothing else. Fingers fiddling with the hem of my sleep shorts, I dared a step down, then another, slowly descending the stairs while attempting to calm my quick breaths. My nerves were so tight that I hesitated a second, wondering if I needed to bolt up the stairs to throw up.

I hadn’t done this since medical school.

Thisbeing a first kiss, first touch. And this was a man I was not only attracted to physically but every sweet and dirty part of him, who was willing and eager downstairs. And I was a damn nervous wreck about it. Now that the rush of hormones from earlier faded during the shower, I was left scared shitless. I still wanted this, but how?

Did I just walk up to him and say,“Hey, Jameson, I’m ready for you to do all the things to me?”

I wasn’t naturally sexy. I worked with dead people all day, for fuck’s sake.

If I tried to tempt him with my moves or sexy looks, I’d end up looking more constipated than suggestive.

The realization that I’d one day redo these firsts hit me the hardest when I’d finally filed for divorce. At one point in my life, when I said “I do,” I’d assumed I would never feel these first jitters again, but things happened and now here I was. I wasn’t ‘scared’ per se but rather extreme stomach churning, about to pee myself nervous. Excited with a dash of terrified.

At the bottom of the stairs, I peeked around the corner, first searching the kitchen before finding Jameson lounging on the couch in the living room. Swallowing to ease my suddenly desert-dry mouth, I ventured into the living room, my heart in my throat.

“Good shower?” Jameson asked without glancing away from the flashing TV screen.

A frown pulled down the corners of my lips. “Yeah.” I shifted my weight from one bare foot to the other as I eyed him suspiciously. “So, do you still want to—” I swirled a hand in the air. “—you know?”

He didn’t respond. Didn’t even look my way.

My nostrils flared in annoyance at the slight tic of his cheek, as if suppressing a grin. I crossed both arms, pushing my breasts together beneath my pajama top.

Oh, the bastard wants me to sweat, to make me spell it out. Well, we’ll see how that works out for him.

Tiptoeing over to the couch, I sat on the opposite side, back against the high armrest with both long legs outstretched toward him.

“What was your question?” he asked, finally deeming me worthy of his attention, and twisted to face me. His gaze flicked down to my bare feet, then slowly glided up my legs until it paused at the junction. Whatever flame that dimmed while I was in the shower roared back to life as he sucked his lower lip between his teeth.

“I was wondering if you wanted to make good on your promises from earlier. Or if those were just words.”

Damn. Who is this bold woman with the raspy voice and sassy words? I kind of want to be her.

Oh wait….

Jameson hummed and picked up my right foot. “I think I owe you a foot massage since Slade stopped us earlier today.”

My stomach fluttered at Slade’s name with Jameson’s hands on me.

My lips parted, each shallow breath brushing past them as his fingers moved, gently massaging the tightness out of the balls of my feet and toes.

“We need to discuss what this is, make sure we’re on the same page.” Jameson set that foot down and worked on the other. Though this time his fingers only lingered there for a minute before slowly working up to my ankle and moving to massage my calf. “When this case is done, I’ll go back to Dallas.” My ears perked up at that. I wanted to tell him I was from there but couldn’t form words as his hands moved even higher, now working the muscles just above my knee. “If we do this, follow through on what we both want, it will only be for while I’m here and can’t distract us from the case.”

I licked my lips and then bit the lower one. “I get it. I understand.”

“And,” he drawled, “if you want to explore your attraction to Slade while I’m here—”

“I won’t,” I whispered, voice dropping. “We’re just friends.”

Jameson chuckled and shook his head, a few longer strands of hair brushing against his forehead. “Well, let me put it this way. If that dumbass gets over his insecurities and you two finally act on what’s clear between you, I’m good. Don’t think this means you’re only mine and you have to hold back. And if you want us both”—a wicked gleam shone in his light eyes as his fingers played with the hem of my shorts—“then I’m in.”

“Jameson,” I whimpered as his fingers dipped beneath the cotton and continued to slide upward. Any second now, he’d notice the one article of clothing I’d skipped when getting dressed.

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