Falling Under
Page 15
“I have that look? Really?” How awesome! She clearly needed to use it more.
“You do. Why do you think we’re all so obedient to your paperwork rules?”
“Because it’s efficient and makes money move back into the shop more quickly?”
He laughed again and then moved the bag of fruit to kiss the sore spot.
They both went very still.
His muscles tightened, the tension radiating from him made her dizzy. And probably crazy, but needing to soothe. So she slid her hands up the wall of his chest, not to restrain or hold back, no matter how much she told herself that lie.
Once she touched him, she knew it to her toes that everything had changed.
“Damn it,” he snarled and then kissed her. Only, no. He took her mouth, owned it, and had his wicked way with it.
Who knew this laid-back dude with a Boston twang who also sounded like a surfer could kiss like this?
He nipped at her lips, licking and sucking as he kissed her. His tongue, holy shit, his tongue slid into her mouth and then, sinuous against hers, danced along until she jutted her hips forward in response.
Thank god she’d been sitting because there’d be no disguising that.
He stepped back, breathing a little heavily, his pupils huge. Carmella touched her lips, pressing a little to keep the sensation awhile longer.
“I should apologize but I can’t because I’m not sorry. I’ve wanted to kiss you for at least the last year. In case you’re curious, it was a billion times better in real life than my imaginings.”
A year?
Carmella swallowed hard, beyond flattered and flustered and definitely interested.
“Say something, baby, because I’m getting nervous.”
Carmella found that statement so startling and silly she snapped out of her kiss-induced haze. “You nervous? I doubt that very much.”
Duke’s expression was aw shucks and I want to bone you at the same time. “I don’t get nervous about too much. But you bring it out.”
“You don’t need to apologize. I’d probably be really annoyed if you did.” Or to be nervous. Hell, he made her jittery and nervous all the time so it was slightly hard to believe she made him that way.
“I’m also not going to say I think it shouldn’t happen again either. I’d like it to happen again. A lot. I’d like it to be happening right now, to tell the truth,” Duke said.
The giddy was back, but it was sweeter. He made her laugh. He didn’t take himself too seriously and he was one hell of a kisser.
But there was no denying the possible problems between them. “You’re my boss.”
“I am. That’s obviously problematic.”
He stayed close. Ginger looked up at them both, not making a sound.
“I’m going to go ahead and kiss you again. Because I don’t want to talk about work and I really want that mouth.”
Duke pressed against all her lush curves as she stood. But she was short. Really short and he didn’t want to stoop.
So he picked her up and put her on the island facing him before stepping between her knees.
“You’re very short.” He kissed her chin.
“You’re freakishly tall.” Carmella tipped her head back, allowing him access to her throat.
He nibbled across her jaw and then up to her ear. The bandana she’d been wearing slipped off, dropping to the counter as her hair bounced free. He buried his fingers in it, using the purchase to tip her face and kiss those lips.
Carmella might have been quiet at work, but she demanded everything he had to offer, kissing him back with a deceptively lazy pace. Really what she did was seduce him moment by moment until all he could think about was kissing every inch of her.
She tasted like oranges. Smelled like them too. As he pulled away, breaking the kiss, he gave a quick look to the spot on her forehead she’d whacked into his so hard. It would be fine, probably not even a goose egg.
“How are you feeling?” he asked.
“I’m hungry.”
“Is that sexual innuendo?” Duke teased.
“Oh, when I want you to make me come, I’ll let you know. I’m not delicate when it comes to sex. However, I meant food. For now.”
Coughing to cover up the way he nearly choked on his spit, Duke helped her down, trying to figure out why he was so turned on by pretty much everything about this woman. “You should take some pain reliever when you eat. Just in case you get a headache.”
“Is that sexual innuendo?”
“Ha! Sit down at the table. I’ll rustle us up something. It’s the least I can do after nearly splitting your head open.”
“You cook too?” He was really bad for her.
“I do okay.” He ducked his head.
Carmella didn’t argue any more because she really wanted to watch him move around her kitchen.
Other than her family, she’d never had a man make her a meal before. It was especially nice when that man was Duke Bradshaw in his jeans and T-shirt, padding around quite competently.
“I can’t for the life of me figure out what you were cleaning in here because this is the most orderly kitchen I’ve ever seen in person,” he said as he slid the ziti into the oven.
“It’s stress relief sometimes. Or I’m working through something and mindless activity helps. Ironing, laundry, that sort of thing.” And when she was growing up, it gave her some measure of control and comfort in a world full of chaos.
“You do. Why do you think we’re all so obedient to your paperwork rules?”
“Because it’s efficient and makes money move back into the shop more quickly?”
He laughed again and then moved the bag of fruit to kiss the sore spot.
They both went very still.
His muscles tightened, the tension radiating from him made her dizzy. And probably crazy, but needing to soothe. So she slid her hands up the wall of his chest, not to restrain or hold back, no matter how much she told herself that lie.
Once she touched him, she knew it to her toes that everything had changed.
“Damn it,” he snarled and then kissed her. Only, no. He took her mouth, owned it, and had his wicked way with it.
Who knew this laid-back dude with a Boston twang who also sounded like a surfer could kiss like this?
He nipped at her lips, licking and sucking as he kissed her. His tongue, holy shit, his tongue slid into her mouth and then, sinuous against hers, danced along until she jutted her hips forward in response.
Thank god she’d been sitting because there’d be no disguising that.
He stepped back, breathing a little heavily, his pupils huge. Carmella touched her lips, pressing a little to keep the sensation awhile longer.
“I should apologize but I can’t because I’m not sorry. I’ve wanted to kiss you for at least the last year. In case you’re curious, it was a billion times better in real life than my imaginings.”
A year?
Carmella swallowed hard, beyond flattered and flustered and definitely interested.
“Say something, baby, because I’m getting nervous.”
Carmella found that statement so startling and silly she snapped out of her kiss-induced haze. “You nervous? I doubt that very much.”
Duke’s expression was aw shucks and I want to bone you at the same time. “I don’t get nervous about too much. But you bring it out.”
“You don’t need to apologize. I’d probably be really annoyed if you did.” Or to be nervous. Hell, he made her jittery and nervous all the time so it was slightly hard to believe she made him that way.
“I’m also not going to say I think it shouldn’t happen again either. I’d like it to happen again. A lot. I’d like it to be happening right now, to tell the truth,” Duke said.
The giddy was back, but it was sweeter. He made her laugh. He didn’t take himself too seriously and he was one hell of a kisser.
But there was no denying the possible problems between them. “You’re my boss.”
“I am. That’s obviously problematic.”
He stayed close. Ginger looked up at them both, not making a sound.
“I’m going to go ahead and kiss you again. Because I don’t want to talk about work and I really want that mouth.”
Duke pressed against all her lush curves as she stood. But she was short. Really short and he didn’t want to stoop.
So he picked her up and put her on the island facing him before stepping between her knees.
“You’re very short.” He kissed her chin.
“You’re freakishly tall.” Carmella tipped her head back, allowing him access to her throat.
He nibbled across her jaw and then up to her ear. The bandana she’d been wearing slipped off, dropping to the counter as her hair bounced free. He buried his fingers in it, using the purchase to tip her face and kiss those lips.
Carmella might have been quiet at work, but she demanded everything he had to offer, kissing him back with a deceptively lazy pace. Really what she did was seduce him moment by moment until all he could think about was kissing every inch of her.
She tasted like oranges. Smelled like them too. As he pulled away, breaking the kiss, he gave a quick look to the spot on her forehead she’d whacked into his so hard. It would be fine, probably not even a goose egg.
“How are you feeling?” he asked.
“I’m hungry.”
“Is that sexual innuendo?” Duke teased.
“Oh, when I want you to make me come, I’ll let you know. I’m not delicate when it comes to sex. However, I meant food. For now.”
Coughing to cover up the way he nearly choked on his spit, Duke helped her down, trying to figure out why he was so turned on by pretty much everything about this woman. “You should take some pain reliever when you eat. Just in case you get a headache.”
“Is that sexual innuendo?”
“Ha! Sit down at the table. I’ll rustle us up something. It’s the least I can do after nearly splitting your head open.”
“You cook too?” He was really bad for her.
“I do okay.” He ducked his head.
Carmella didn’t argue any more because she really wanted to watch him move around her kitchen.
Other than her family, she’d never had a man make her a meal before. It was especially nice when that man was Duke Bradshaw in his jeans and T-shirt, padding around quite competently.
“I can’t for the life of me figure out what you were cleaning in here because this is the most orderly kitchen I’ve ever seen in person,” he said as he slid the ziti into the oven.
“It’s stress relief sometimes. Or I’m working through something and mindless activity helps. Ironing, laundry, that sort of thing.” And when she was growing up, it gave her some measure of control and comfort in a world full of chaos.
