Her eyes flash at me and I allow my eyes to travel over her. She’s a mess. Her hair is wild and pieces are sticking to her cheeks, neck, and chest. Her cheeks are a deep pink from the heat and the effort it’s taking her to do the manual labor. Her shirt is sticking to her and I can see that it’s wet, thought the plaid pattern hides the actual sweat spots. Her chest is heaving with her deep breaths and her jeans have that “stuck to you” look to them.
She slaps her hands on her hips and then pulls her shirt up to wipe at her face. It causes her stomach to show and I can see the curve of her hips. My throat tickles again at the sight.
Once she’s wiped her face, she peels the gloves off, throwing them to the ground. She sets her hands on her hips again and glares at me again. “Look here, Donovan. I may not be as strong as you and I’m damn sure not used to this heat or this kind of work, but I’m out here doing it! Am I complaining? Have I been sitting in your damn truck painting my nails?! Am I watching Days of our Lives and eating cucumber sandwiches?!
“No, I’m out here, same as you. I’m doing shit I have no idea how to do.” She holds her hands up at me and glares at her nails before trying to melt my face off with her eyes. “I’m messing up my fucking manicure. I’m getting heat stroke and I’m probably going to need a goddamned IV of fluids later, but I’m out here… picking up boards, doing what you demand that I do, like some goddamned tyrant… all while listening to you insult me.” She flips me off and I’m so shocked by the gesture that I blink. “Screw off, you cocky son of a bitch! You can kiss my ass!” She bends down to grab another board and stalks to my truck to fling it in there, forgetting her gloves on the ground. She screams in rage as she pulls her finger to her mouth to bite out a splinter. She grabs it and flings it to the ground before and glaring at me harder while she sucks on her wound.
Well, shit.
Now she has me feeling like an asshole. I wanted to goad her, but I never wanted to actually harm her.
And, she’s right. She’s out here… helping…
Picking up the last board, I bring it to the back of my truck and reach for one of the canteens of water. Removing my gloves so I can open it, I hand it to her. “You ok?” She nods. “Clean it with that. There’s a first aid kit in the truck. I’ll grab it.”
She just stares at it in my hand before reaching out and taking the water. She takes a huge swallow before she mutters, “I don’t need a damn first aid kit. It’s just a little splinter and I got it out.” Tipping her head back, she takes another hard swallow. Some of the cold water drips down her chin and I can’t look away as the drop travels down her neck, over her chest, and disappears beneath her neckline.
Her hands reach out unintentionally to rub the cold liquid into her skin in an attempt to cool herself.
I’m mesmerized.
Godammit!
Eliza McCormick is too sexy for her own good. My brilliant plan is backfiring. Instead of goading her, all I’m managing to do is incinerate my insides with desire for the fancy woman from Los Angeles.
Reaching out, I take the canteen, my fingers brushing against hers in the process, and take a deep swig to try to extinguish the fire burning inside of me. It doesn’t work.
Cracking my eyes open, I see Eliza is watching me like I imagine I was just watching her.
Without thinking it through, I take a step toward her. She’s already right beside me, so the single step has me directly in front of her. Leaning forward ever so slightly, I touch her chest with mine and she gasps as she tries to step back. Only, there’s nowhere for her to go. Her back is at my truck. She swallows as my hips align with hers, but neither of us says anything.
My eyes lock on hers and I see her pupils dilate beneath the brim of her hat.
Oh, she wants this, too.
There’s no sense in denying it.
My head angles and I pause just as my lips reach hers. I breathe in and she exhales. The wisp of air from her mouth on my lips awakens the beast within. My mouth covers hers and my tongue takes advantage of her parted lips. Her lips are soft and supple beneath mine though her tongue is a direct contrast. She pauses for only a split second before her hands curl into my shirt and she yanks me even closer. It knocks her hat from her head. Her tongue slides against mine and within seconds, her head angles to allow me to deepen the kiss.
For every thrust of my tongue against hers, she parries and then slides her own against mine. The water has made both of our mouths cold and it’s directly opposite from the heat of our bodies as we kiss feverishly. My hands settle on the bed of the truck to stop myself from feeling her up like a fourteen year old sneaking a kiss, with the preacher’s daughter, in the church balcony.
Her palms flatten against my chest as she moans into my mouth. I moan back and the sound fuels the fire even more. My hands leave the truck and settle on her hips, pulling her against the throbbing erection straining to break free from my denim. Her nails rake my skin through the fabric of my shirt and she thrusts against me, as if she’s attempting to get closer to me.
