Page 222 of Hot Mess
I stopped.
His gaze moved over my face and then down to the low-cut front of my dress. My breasts were bare under the fabric, and as I leaned forward to pick up the tray, the breeze tickled my nipples. I was warm between my legs, and it had nothing to do with the summer day.
I’d never been so aroused for so long, just sitting in a man’s company.
Just beinglookedat.
Ashley had this way of looking at me that was so… convoluted, actually. Like he wanted to undress me with his tongue and kiss me from head to toe… and like he didn’t even like me at all.
But I knew he liked me.
“Was that a command or an invitation?” I asked.
His blue eyes met mine and he wasn’t smiling. “Both.”
“Stay here? At Dylan’s place?”
“At my place.”
The yummy warmth spread through my body at the thought of sleeping next to him again. Sleeping with him… and doing all kinds of other things with him.
I hadn’t planned to stay over. But I definitely didn’t feel like rushing out of here.
“Okay,” I said.
“It’s Wednesday night. What about work tomorrow?”
“I’ll take care of it.”
“Good.” He got up, taking our empties with him. “Since I don’t have to drive you back to the city, I’m getting another beer. You want something?”
“Sure.”
“Cider? Beer? Wine? I’ve got some hard stuff if you want to get nasty.” He cocked an eyebrow but still didn’t smile.
I laughed. I was getting used to his brand of humor. And I liked it as much as I liked the rest of him.
“Surprise me.”
“Meet you back here,” he said. Then he headed into Dylan’s kitchen and I took the leftovers back to his.
When I got back, Ashley was standing on the deck by the table, opening his beer. There was a wine glass and a bottle of chilled white wine set out. “Is that all for me?” I asked, eyeing the unopened bottle.
“If you want it,” he said.
“I want.”
He opened the bottle and poured me a glass as I sat down.
“I’ll stay this time,” I told him, “but don’t expect me to constantly push my professional obligations aside for you, Mr. Player.” I thought it needed to be said. Although there was the obvious temptation to put aside absolutely anything this man asked me to put aside… realistically, I couldn’t do that.
“Ditto,” he said.
“You’re pushing professional obligations aside for me?”
“Yes and no.” He sat down with me, and I loved the way he sat on the bench right next to me, instead of across the table. “It’s not like I had an exact agenda for what I should be doing today or tomorrow. I didn’t have to stand anyone up to be here with you. But I should be working on putting my new band together. It should be my first priority.” His eyes met mine. In the late-afternoon light, they were so, so blue.
“Is it?”
