Page 38 of Business Casual
Also waiting for her to change her mind. I don’t want to pressure her. I don’t want to make assumptions about what she does or doesn’t want.
I want to hear the words.
“This is the longest buildup to a one-night stand I’ve ever had in my life.” She sighs.
“Is that what we’re doing?”
She is unamused. “Charlie.”
“You know what I want to hear,” I tell her. Though her repeating my name like that in that sassy tone of hers is sort of doing it for me too. I busy my hands with closing the jar to the peanut butter while Nova pushes back her chair.
The screech of it is loud in the quiet of the kitchen. My throat tightens as she moves around the table. Is she going to ask me to leave? Is this the final straw? Have I pushed too hard, asked for too much? I’m still not clear on why Nova wants anything from me.
But instead of grabbing my jacket off the hook in the hall and tossing it in my face, Nova pads over to me in her sock-covered feet and props her hip against the table at my side. The edges of her skirt brush against my fingertips, and I have to tilt back in my seat to get a good look at her face.
Her cheeks are pink, her eyes are dark, and her hair is a deep golden tangle in the light from above the stove.
I don’t think I’ve ever seen her look more beautiful, and I’ve done a whole lot of looking where Nova Porter is concerned.
“Charlie,” she says, her voice a honeyed rasp, “would you like to stay for a night of hot, passionate sex?”
She’s done teasing, I guess. I swallow hard and shift in my chair. “I would. Thank you for asking.”
She lifts herself up, sliding back on the table in front of me. Her knee nudges the bag of marshmallows. Her foot taps the side of my chair.
“I need to tell you something first.” I clear my throat, staring hard at where her skirt rides higher against her thighs. “Before our night of hot, passionate sex.”
Her eyebrows climb her forehead. “If you tell me you want me to bark like a dog while we do it, we’re going to have some problems.”
A laugh sputters out of me and I rest my hand on her thigh. I spread my fingers wide and squeeze gently. She shivers.
“No. I don’t want you to bark like a dog. Do you want me to bark like a dog?”
She shakes her head. The color in her cheeks deepens with my hand on her.
I blow out a deep breath. “I did bribe the DJ.”
Her forehead creases. “You what?”
“I did bribe the DJ. The night of the wedding. I told him if he saw me dancing with you, he should immediately change the song to a slow one.”
“Ah.” Her face lights up, delighted. “How’d you know I’d dance with you?”
I squeeze her thigh again. “I’m a persistent man.”
“That you are.”
She leans back on her palms, legs tipping half an inch wider in front of me. My heart trips over itself before cranking into double-time. It’s entirely possible I won’t survive the night.
“It leads me to my next point,” I manage from a throat that feels too tight. Christ, the look of her. She’s temptation wrapped in ink and a cozy-looking sweater, her socked feet swinging back and forth. I bet if I pushed her knees wider, I could see what color underwear she’s hiding under that pretty skirt.
She arches an eyebrow. “Which is?”
I forget what I was going to say. “What?”
“You were going to confess another deep, dark secret.”
“That’s right.” I rub my thumb over her tights. “I wanted an excuse to touch you. That night. That’s why I wanted a slow song.”
