Page 398 of Summer Heat
The lawyer in him told him it was a completely asinine argument to make, but some other unnamed voice inside him said it was genius, and that they were to present the discovery to her as soon as possible.
Because what it all boiled down to was the one thing he’d risk making a stupid argument for.
Another day with Abby.
“Okay, it’s ready!”
Blinking himself back to the present, he quickly changed out of his suit and headed back down to rejoin Abby. Halfway there, however, he got sidetracked by a little piece of paper sticking out from her bag on the couch.
The first bolded sentence of the email printout caught his attention before he could stop himself. Then the second sentence had him outright invading her privacy.
He smiled, picked up the paper and brought it with him into the dining room.
“Why didn’t you say anything?” he asked, coming up behind her and slipping his arms around her waist for a warm hug.
“About what?”
“About getting an article accepted for publication.”
She spun around and snatched the printout from his hand.
Even though she was remaining impassive, he could see her eyes practically dancing the conga.
“I was going to tell you tomorrow. Since it’s not exactly on par with a $7.3 billion dollar deal and all.”
His eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Where’s the woman who reamed my ass for downplaying her accomplishments just the other week?” he asked sternly. “You getting an article published in a journal is a very, very big deal. Completely on par with my news.”
Her lips curved up at the corners.
“So we should celebrate,” he suggested, nuzzling the side of her neck.
“We already are.”
“But this is your gift to me. I want to give you something you want. So tell me. How can we celebrate your amazing news? Name it and it’s yours.”
She gnawed on her lower lip and then asked shyly, “Before or after dinner?” The way she was now rubbing her sweet backside against him was a pretty good indication of which she’d prefer.
He grew hard in an instant. “Before.” Wow, he sounded almost primitive just then.
“Okay.” She pushed him down into one of the dining chairs. “We’ll do my celebration first and then we can have yours.” Tugging on his button fly, she teased, “I hope you’re not too hungry…because what I want isn’t going to be all that quick.”
That’s what she thinks. With her curious hands all over him, he was ready to go off like a rocket ship at T-minus counting.
But then she moved those hands off his jeans, and placed them on top of his. At his questioning look, she smiled. “Keep your hands on the sides of the chair.”
She couldn’t be serious.
“I’m serious.”
Damn.
“No touching.” She slid up his shirt and trailed tiny tortuous kisses across his chest…down his stomach…
Jesus.
Eyes half-lidded with lust, she murmured softly, “What I want for my celebration is to have full reign over your body…starting here.”
Holy hell.
