Seems Chloe is battling the same demons this morning, as she struggles to appear nonchalant while drinking her coffee. After a few pleasantries, she excuses herself to finish a deadline, but I notice the slight flush crawl up her cheeks when I catch her ogling my ass.
 
 Good thing she left when she did because after she caught that sultry lower lip between her teeth, I was ready to take her straight to the bedroom.
 
 We have our own pressing deadline.
 
 Instead, she leaves me with my thoughts as I finish up one of the bookshelves and try not to imagine how gorgeous she looks naked.
 
 Or how talented her tongue is on other body parts.
 
 Not helping, Aidan.
 
 A sudden yip stirs me from my lust-filled haze, and I look up to see Chloe in the doorway, bouncing up and down with excitement. My thoughts immediately shoot to the gutter as I notice the jiggle of her breasts under her sweatshirt.
 
 God, I’m screwed. Or, in this case,notscrewed.
 
 “Good news?” I ask, trying to appear casual.
 
 “Great news,” she replies, crowding my space and assaulting my nostrils with her killer scent. I don’t think she’s wearing any perfume. It’s just her. She’s that appealing. “I was waiting to hear from this magazine about a position as a freelance feature columnist. They just called. I got it.”
 
 With an excited giggle, she throws herself into my arms, and there’s no way I’m holding back. Enfolding her in my embrace, I let myself go, basking in the feel of her. “Congratulations. You deserve it. Your writing is incredible.”
 
 She pulls back, a curious expression coloring her face. “You’ve read my writing?”
 
 “Guilty. I figured when you said you were a columnist that you wrote articles on sex and dating.”
 
 “Looking for some tips?” she inquires, her eyes sparkling behind her glasses. Maybe it’s a coincidence, but since I mentioned my fondness for the sexy librarian look, she wears her glasses more. I keep telling myself it’s for my benefit.
 
 Either way, she’s gorgeous.
 
 I lean in, my mouth hovering mere inches from hers. “No, I’m a master in that arena.”
 
 “Do you have any credentials to back up that claim?”
 
 “I can provide hands-on experience.” Holy shit, I’m one second away from ripping her clothes off to show her how talented I am at giving her pleasure.
 
 Like I said, I bet she’s a screamer, and I’m dying to find out.
 
 “I’m sure you have a long list of satisfied clients,” she quips, tapping a finger against her mouth and once again drawing attention to her perfect lips.
 
 Her perfectly kissable lips.
 
 She tasted so good.
 
 I need to focus before I lose the last of my willpower, and trust me, it’s hanging by a thread.
 
 As if sensing my internal dilemma, Chloe steps away, motioning to the piles of wood and tools. “Forget all this and come celebrate with me.”
 
 “Now?” Granted, I’ve put in a full day already. Plus, I’m curious to know what kind of celebration she has in mind.
 
 “Seems as good a time as any. I’ll help you clean up, and we can have a celebratory dinner.” She pauses, shooting me a coy smirk. “Take it from there.”
 
 Yes, please. A million times would be preferable.
 
 Then I groan, and it isn’t from anticipation. “Crap, I can’t tonight. I’m playing.”
 
 Her brow furrows. “Playing?”
 
 “Me and a couple of guys have a band. Nothing fancy—a handful of originals, mostly covers—but we play down at the bar every Thursday.”