Fiction Infatuation -- Book Excerpt

      “Your feet hurt?” he asked, eyeing my bare toes.

“A little.”

“That’s what you get for walking around the city in impractical shoes.”

“I didn’t know I would be walking around the city,” I pointed out.

“Give ’em here.”

I gaped at him. “What?”

He gestured with his hand. “Your feet. Put them up here.” He patted his thigh.

“Why?”

“Because I’m going to rub them,” he said as if this were the most obvious thing in the world.

I’d woken up in bed next to Jack, I’d let him hold my hand, and now this. I had been crossing way too many lines, and I wasn’t ready to cross another one. “Maybe I should go,” I said, shifting in my seat.

Jack cocked one eyebrow at me. “You want information?”

I sighed. “Yes. I need something before I go back to work on Monday,” I told him honestly.

He patted his thigh again. “Well, then.”

Jack’s games should have me so pissed off I couldn’t see straight. I should be running away from this man as far as I could. After all, he’d done nothing but toy with me since I’d met him. But for some reason, I wasn’t angry. I was mostly intrigued.

I swung myself around on the couch and plopped my feet onto his leg. Jack immediately enclosed my left foot in both of his hands. “Good girl.”

I scooted further down on the couch and laid my head back on the arm. I involuntarily let out a little groan as his fingers kneaded my muscles and caressed my skin.

“Does that feel better?”

“Yes. But I should feel bad right now. My feet are kind of… yucky.”

“Hmm. They’re just fine.”

My eyes were closed and my entire body was completely relaxed for the first time in years. “Please don’t tell me you have some sort of foot fetish,” I teased.

He chuckled. “No. But I do have a thing for legs. And Candie, you have amazing legs.”

I didn’t open my eyes, I couldn’t. I was too blissed out at that moment. So, instead of finding out what I needed to know by simply looking at Jack, I asked him instead, “Are you staring at them right now?”

I could feel that my pants had ridden up on my calves, and I knew I was exposing a little bit of skin. Then I felt the material on my left leg rise even higher.

“Yep. It’s even better when you wear skirts. But right now, I’m getting a real eyeful, so I won’t complain.”

I should have been completely upset with this exchange. But I wasn’t. “Lucky for you, I shaved.”

One of Jack’s hands moved slowly up my ankle. His fingers were slightly calloused and the friction on my skin was a foreign sensation. What little experience I had was with men with soft hands, men who worked with computers all day. Jack’s hands had clearly seen some real work. And I found myself reveling in the sensation as his palm moved slowly up to my calf.

The entire thing was taking forever. He was moving in slow motion. And I was experiencing it as if it were the soft porn part of a movie. And there was no way in hell I was going to stop it.

“You have the softest skin,” he said in a low voice.

“You are going to be the death of me, Jack Morrison,” I groaned.

His hand made its way to my knee before the slacks were too tight for him to continue. I stayed where I was, not wanting to move, not wanting the things I was feeling to go away. I felt Jack’s legs shift under me and then I could feel his heat above me. I opened my eyes to see that Jack’s face was hovering over mine.

One clump of hair was flopped over his left eye. I wanted to get a better look at those stark blue eyes, so I reached up and pushed it out of the way. Then I let my fingers run down his temple, over his cheekbone, and down to the course hair on his chin.

“I’m supposed to be drilling you for information,” I said softly. “I’m not doing a very good job.”

“Hmm. Tell you what. I’ll give you access to my Google calendar if you stop worrying about your job for a minute.”

“Okay,” I breathed.

Jack leaned down, just as slowly as his hand had moved up my leg. And when his lips met mine, I immediately opened up for him. It was instinct, pure and simple. Jack took advantage, sweeping his tongue along mine.

I arched forward to get more of him. This seemed to give him an immediate reaction. He pulled us both further down on the couch so that I was fully beneath him. His arm supported his weight on the cushion beside my head, and I ran my hand over it. He had these wonderfully developed biceps that made my stomach flutter.

I was feeling on fire just then. My attraction for Jack had built up and was now burning in a hot, heavy flame. And I wanted more. I wanted so much more... 

 

 

 

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