Page 72 of Work It Out
“Eight o’clock! Come early and help set up!”
“Run,” he whispered. He was teasing, but Rayah laughed and took off for the door, hair flying behind her. It made him a pig, but he was riveted to the way her ass jiggled as she ran.
Her tits are probably bouncing more.
That thought got his butt in gear. He caught up to her as she burst out into the cold night. He caught her, slid one arm against the backs of her thighs and one behind her shoulders, and cradled her against his chest. She gasped. Her panting breaths clouded the air between them.
“I think we’re safe now, and I don’t want you falling in those heels.” It was true, if not the whole truth.
Rayah tucked her face into the curve of his neck, but not before he saw her knowing smile. “Aren’t you the gentleman?”
“That’s me. Always willing to take one for the team.”
He nearly dropped her when she twisted his nipple through his shirt. “‘Take one for the team’?” she muttered, but he heard the laughter she tried to hide.
“Did you just purple nurple me?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
His dick twitched against his fly. Damn, but her sass did it for him. She didn’t play like this with anyone but him.
Jake spotted her car and strode toward it as quickly as he could without looking like a sex-starved idiot. He was one, but he didn’t need to look it. He also had a feeling he could’ve had her an hour ago, and he’d already be an idiot for her again.
Slender fingers rubbed against his jaw. He glanced down to see her studying his chin. Her voice was as soft as her touch. “The cleft in your chin almost disappears when you don’t shave. I hate when I can’t see it, but the scruff is sexy, too.”
He grinned. “I could shave a little patch for you.”
She giggled, shaking her head. “Pass.” The laughter faded, and she pinned him with wary eyes. “How is she?”
Vicky. Rayah had no doubt been dying to ask him that since Vicky left, but she was a private person. She wouldn’t risk airing Vicky’s business for anything.
He squeezed her close. “She’s okay. Or she will be. The short story is that the denial phase of the grieving process ended pretty abruptly. She’s staying in Bigbone, though not with us. She needs some space while she works through some things.” He set her on her feet and held out his hand. “Keys, please.”
She dug a set of keys out of the pocket of those tight-as-hell jeans but held it behind her back. “You’re sure she’s okay?”
“As okay as she can be.”
She brought the keys around to her chest, but didn’t hand them to him. “What if I said I was driving, and you could get in or walk home?”
He sighed. “Then I’d fold myself into the passenger seat like human origami and find another way to take care of you.”
A brilliant grin lit her face, and she handed him the keys. “Right answer.”
Shaking his head, he opened the passenger door and watched her slide in. It took all he had to shut the door without kissing her witless. But if he did that, they’d never leave the parking lot, and people were streaming out of the church. Jake jogged around the car and slipped into the driver’s seat. Or he tried to.
“Mary, mother of God.” He bit back a shout. He’d banged his knees on the steering column while simultaneously collapsing both lungs.
Quick as a blink, Rayah leaned over, ass in the air, face lined up perfectly with—
His seat flew back.
“Better?” she asked, returning to her seat.
That depended on how he looked at it. The good news was his lungs had reinflated. The bad news was his dick throbbed like a son of a bitch after the close encounter with her mouth. “Yep,” he said in an intentionally squeaky voice.
He could live on her throaty laughs.
The drive back felt infinitely longer than the drive to town had—partly because the hamsters under the hood must’ve been tired and partly because Rayah’s closeness was killing him. The whole car smelled of her citrusy shampoo and the lemonade she’d drank mixed with the sweet scent that was 100 percent Rayah: his lemon cupcake.
