Page 37 of The Book Signing

Abigail snorts when I finish. “Boldness?” She shakes her head. “The hair color is an example of a moment of weakness.”

“And, you leaving it this way proves you are bold enough to keep it, and now you wear it with pride. Even if it reminds you of shortcomings. It’s daring and powerful. It also makes people remember you far better.” I say tongue in cheek.

Abigail laughs and crosses her arms and leans back. “You have a way with words. You should be a writer. How to talk up the ladies and woo them. Or, in this case, how to boost a woman’s ego and self-worth.”

The moment those words are out, my throat constricts, and I cough, thumping my chest twice.

If only you knew, darling. If only you knew.

Chapter Nineteen

ABIGAIL

The entire dinner feels like a date. I thought this would be a less distracting, chilled evening, simply eating Italian food and away from the vicinity of the hotel rooms. But it feels the opposite of what I intended. The atmosphere screams ‘romantic ambiance’, with candles on all the tables and, well, even the way Jaxon looks tonight, all hot and suave, is distracting me. I mean, did he really have to go with the gelled hair look that looks so good on him? I can’t help but roam myeyes over him.

It’s what he says that matters, too. I am one to take compliments but haven’t been on the receiving end for a while, so this feels… nice. Sweet. Romantic, even. Dammit.

“Dessert?”

Suddenly, my thoughts no longer matter as I look up at Jaxon, giving me a dazzling smile as he waits for me to respond.

Oh yes, the dessert would be lovely. On you, preferably.

The thought pops in so quick I wipe my forehead with the back of my hand. It’s as if I’m feeling flushed and, for goodness’ sakes, I’ve already had his fingers bring out an orgasm. It’s not as if we haven’t touched!

Clearing my throat, I nod and say, “Ah, okay. Sure.”

He passes over the menu, and as I accept it, my finger grazes against his and suddenly images of his fingers touching my body appear in my mind. It’s like I’m in a lusty haze, remembering how I watched myself get fingered by Jaxon. How he made me climax and then obliterated all thoughts except feeling sated after his delightful touch.

“Jesus, your cheeks are almost the color of your hair. What is going on in that little head ofyours?” Jaxon says, smirking, as if he can see right through me.

I make a throaty cough and immediately grab my glass of water. “Nothing, was just remembering something.” I say just as my lips are on the rim of the glass, hoping to hide my lie.

“Don’t sugarcoat it. I know what that look is,” he says, quirking his eyebrow.

Shit, why does he always catch me in moments of lust when I don’t want him to see?

All my thoughts, the wine, Jaxon himself, are clouding my mind. My judgement. I’m getting turned on just from the memories and can already feel the dampness in my panties.

“Why do you always catch me red-handed? It’s very annoying.” I don’t hide my exasperation this time, crossing my arms.

Jaxon’s eyes widen and he guffaws. “Red-handed? So, youwerethinking of naughty things,” he says as he taps his chin. “And please, do tell. What were they? Color me intrigued.”

“I was thinking about your fingers,” I blurt, words flying out before my brain permits them to leave.

He grins. “Ah, these bad boys?” he says, lifting his hand and referring to the 90s ‘spirit fingers’.

My hands cover my mouth, feeling the blush creep up again.

What is wrong with me?

I look at Jaxon and, instead of him laughing at my expense, I see him wearing a different type of expression. Lust.

He must understand what I was thinking of, and now both of us are sitting here, dessert forgotten, and charm paused. Right now, we are seeing dirty images of what we’ve both done to one another not even twenty-four hours ago.

Jaxon’s eyes heat, and he even bites his lip seductively.

I sigh as I uncross my arms and put them beside my plate. “Dammit, don’t go doing that. Not the lip, Jaxon.” The plea is almost embarrassing, giving away my thoughts.

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