“Chance.” The single word came out as a warning, rough and dark. But my resolve weakened when his talented tongue darted out to wet his plump lower lip.
“Damn, you actually growl.” He shivered, but his eyes sparked with challenge, daring me to do my worst. “What else do those muscles do besides intimidate people? Because I can think of so many better uses for them.”
I caught his wrist as he reached for my chest, desperate to maintain the last shred of my control. “Don’t.”
“Why not?” He pressed against my grip to test my strength. “Your husband’s downstairs, hoping we hit it off. And from the way you’re looking at me right now, I’d say we’re hitting it off just fine.”
I tightened my hold on his delicate wrist,marveling at how small and fragile he was compared to me. “You don’t know what you’re asking for.”
“Yes, I do.” He leaned close enough to feel his breath against my neck, sending desire flooding through me. “I think you want to throw me down and teach me some manners. Show me what happens when I push you too far.”
Every muscle in my body tensed with the effort not to do that. His cologne filled my lungs, making it hard to think straight. He was too close, too tempting, radiating heat and challenge. My control was a fraying thread, ready to snap at any moment.
“Back. Up.” Each word felt as if it was being dragged from my throat, rough with need.
“Make me.” His free hand came up to rest on my chest, fingers splaying over my heart, which thundered beneath his touch. “Unless you’re scared you’ll enjoy it too much?”
The sound that escaped me was pure animal instinct. In a fluid motion, I spun us, pressing his back against the shelves to pin him in place. His sharp intake of breath sent satisfaction coursing through me like a shot of whiskey.
“Careful what you wish for.” I braced an arm above his head, using my body to cage him in. His smaller frame fit against mine, stoking the fire in my blood. “Some of us bite.”
There was no fear in his beautiful eyes, only eager excitement that made my dick throb. “Promise?”
The urge to silence him with a kiss overwhelmed me. Against my will, I leaned in, unable to resist the pull. It didn’t help that I could almost feel Early urging me to act, to make a convincing argument for Chance to join us in bed. My husband’s encouraging voice in my head wasn’t helping my self-control.
My struggle became more dire when his arousal pressed against me. The things it made me want to do to him gave me whiplash. I wanted to pick him up, wrap his long legs around my waist, and show him what happened to bratty rock stars who played with fire. Things were getting too muddled in my mind.
Before I could give in to my darkest urges, Early’s voice floated up the stairs. “Dinner’s ready!”
I’d never been so grateful for an interruption in my life. One more minute alone with Chance in this room, surrounded by the physical evidence of my admiration for him, and I might have done something that would have complicated our evening. Or worse, would have made Early insufferably smug about being right about our chemistry.
I pulled back to get some distance, but it didn’t make it any easier to breathe. My body protested the loss of contact, craving more of his heat against me.
Chance held my gaze as he adjusted his erection, smirking at me and not the least bit ashamed. His expression promised our conversation wasn’t over.
Before I could do something stupid like drag him back against me, I walked out of the room without aword. He followed behind me, his footsteps carrying the same confidence as his cocky attitude.
I guided him into our cozy dining room, which looked even better than usual, thanks to Early’s efforts to make it perfect for tonight. The warm glow from the chandelier overhead caught the deep red of the cabernet Sauvignon already breathing in our best crystal glasses.
Fresh flowers from our garden provided subtle pops of color in the vase at the center of the table, their sweet fragrance mingling with the mouthwatering aroma of roasted meat wafting from the kitchen. The room radiated the thoughtful attention to detail that made our house a real home.
I went into the kitchen to carry the roast on its serving platter to the table. The browned meat rested on a bed of roasted root vegetables, steam rising in appetizing tendrils. My husband had outdone himself with the presentation, making the meal look like something from a cooking magazine.
“It smells incredible,” Chance said, inhaling as he took his seat at the table. His eyes widened with genuine appreciation as he looked over the spread. “I never have home-cooked meals while I’m on the road, so this is a real treat.”
After we plated our meals, Early sat on my left with Chance across from me. I lifted my wineglass. “To good food and better company.”
Early and Chance raised their glasses as well, completing the toast with gentle clinks of crystal.
I watched as Chance brought the first forkful of roast to his lips. The moment the food touched his tongue, his eyes fluttered closed, and he let out a deep, appreciative moan that gave me all the wrong ideas.
“Oh my god,” he moaned. “This is amazing. The meat is so tender it melts in your mouth.”
Early shot me a knowing look as Chance sampled the truffle mashed potatoes next. Another soft sound of pleasure escaped him as he savored the first bite.
“These potatoes are sinful.” He licked a stray bit of potato from his lower lip. “I can’t believe you made these from scratch. They’re so delicious.”
My chest swelled with pride even as other parts of me responded to his sensual appreciation of my cooking. The way he pulled each bite from his fork, letting the tines drag across his lips, was doing dangerous things to my concentration.
