Page 72 of A Shot at Love
Work. He needed to work.
He had to get his mind off what he really wanted, which was to have Gemma underneath him, screaming his name while he made her come as many times as he could manage.
He groaned and readjusted himself, the pressure in his crotch growing at the image dancing across his imagination.
The scene in the kitchen jerked back to his mind and he remembered every sensation that had gone through him at the whisper-soft feel of her naked skin under his hands, the erotic sound of her tiny gasps as he sucked on her tongue, even the way he knew without a doubt her panties were wet when he’d snaked his knee between her legs.
The pressure in his pants grew almost unbearable.
He took several deep breaths and started reciting the names of the Greek gods in his head to clear his mind.
After a few minutes, he rose, took the laptop with him and went to his room.
*
Gemma rolled over and sighed.
Again.
She’d been trying to fall asleep for the past two hours to no avail. Every time she closed her eyes, all she could see was Ky’s face as he’d kissed her in the kitchen.
Wild and wanting. Hot and steamy. So ridiculously sexy all she could remembering thinking was kiss me, please, kiss me. And when he did, holy mother!
Gemma flipped to her back and blew out an exasperated breath.
How had she gone from loathing the man to wanting his lips on hers—and on all her other body parts, too? She hadn’t been fibbing when she told him she believed he had nothing to do with anything that had happened. The man was as rock solid and steady as they came, and he’d treated her with nothing but professionalism and actual concern.
She hated to admit it but she trusted him. To her core. After just a few days of being together she knew he’d do whatever it took to keep her safe. He’d proven it time and again.
Trust was the one thing Gemma never gave freely. But Ky had earned it—multiple times over.
Wiggling to her side, she drew her knees to her chest, unable to get comfortable no matter what position she got into, and she knew the reason why.
She didn’t want to be in this bed, alone, and wanting.
She wanted to be in Ky’s bed, with him, and satisfied.
It took one second to make her decision.
When she opened her bedroom door, the living room lights were off, but the small glow from the range hood illuminated all she needed to see as she made her way down the stairs.
From the kitchen, a small beam of light slipped through the partially opened door to his room.
Gemma licked her lips, gave a tiny knock, and opened the door at the same time.
Ky’s eyes tracked on her immediately. Shirtless, he was sitting up in bed, the laptop across his thighs.
“Gemma?” His voice was soft, due to the hour, raspy and filled with just enough late night promise to make her fingertips tingle.
“You moved the Lucy and Ricky beds together.” She closed the door and leaned back against it.
Ky glanced down at the beds and shrugged. “It’s more comfortable because I’m so tall. I can stretch out better.”
“Oh.”
He stared at her for a few beats. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Why do you always think there’s something wrong when I want to talk to you?”
His left eyebrow cocked. “Because there usually is.”
Gemma pouted. “I just want to…talk.”
And there went the right eyebrow in the same direction. “Talk?”
Gemma licked her lips and inched into the room.
He stayed silent as she approached the bed. Since he was reclined in the middle of it, she slid down on the edge and sat, drawing one leg up on the bed, bent, facing him.
Now that she was here, the realization that this might not be the best idea she’d had in a while shot through her. With any other guy she knew what do, how to convey what she wanted.
But Ky wasn’t any other guy, as he’d proved all too many times.
“Yes. I want, well—” She stopped, bit down on the side of her cheek.
The air in the room suddenly changed and Gemma swore she heard his breath catch.
“What?” The low, soft, seductive timbre in his voice sent her thighs to shaking.
“Were you working?” She chinned the laptop.
“If you could call it that.” He took a breath and scrubbed his hands down his face. “I’m trying to find any link I can between those phone calls Bannerman found and my men.”
