her.
She’d have given anything to be able to tilt her chin just then and give him some sort of cocky come-on. But that kind of bravado was well beyond her at the moment. Mostly because she wasn’t in the habit of making empty boasts ... and in this game, she had no idea if she could back her taunts up.
“I guess I get to take my prize. Again.”
She said nothing. Her gaze was locked on his mouth as he spoke. Wondering what he would taste like. She was both terrified and thrilled at the very idea that she might get the chance to find out. This is Brodie, she reminded herself, scrabbling for an emotional foothold. You’ve known him forever. You can trust him to make this okay.
He held her gaze as he brushed her hair back over her shoulders, then toyed with the collar of her coveralls. For all her protestations, she found herself wishing fiercely that she was dressed in something more feminine. Or anything other than her grubby work clothes.
“You know,” he said casually, “I’ve probably seen you in these things, what, about a million times?”
Her heart sank and she wanted nothing more than for the floor to open up and swallow her shapeless, baggy self whole. She didn’t even bother to answer. As much as she wanted him to want her, she knew, deep down, that if she’d had to tart herself up as something she wasn’t, it wouldn’t be worth it. Although she admitted to a doubt or two as he tugged a little on the collar.
He let his hand drift to the first of a long row of buttons that fastened up the front, making her half wish she’d worn the zippered one.
“In all that time, I don’t think I’ve ever once wondered what you were wearing underneath.”
She gulped a little as her cheeks flamed. He’d never noticed her like she’d noticed him. He couldn’t be making that more clear. “Brodie,” she choked out, letting go of the table with one hand, intending to stop him.
Then he lifted his gaze to hers. And what she saw in his eyes wasn’t disinterest. Or even mild curiosity. What she found there wasn’t remotely casual. Anything but. She saw an intensity of want, and need. She saw desire. For her.
“Yet, right now,” he went on, his voice a husky murmur, “I can’t seem to think of anything else.” He slid the top button free, then another, pushing the edges apart. Her nipples were twin points of fierce need, and the muscles between her thighs had clenched so tightly together now, she might never be able to relax. He slipped another button free ... then another.
And suddenly this wasn’t a game any longer.
“What changed your mind?” she blurted out. Don’t stop him now, you bloody loon! But whatever sliver of sanity she had left told her she’d forever regret this if she didn’t understand his reasons behind this sudden about-face.
“Does it matter?” He slipped another button free. “Do you want me to stop?”
She automatically shook her head. What? It was the truth. She didn’t want him to stop. She just wanted to know why.
“Then let me get on with discoverin’ what treasures ye’ve been hiding from me all these years.”
Her hand came up of its own volition and covered his. “Brodie.” She heard the urgency in her own voice, and she wondered what he saw when he looked into her eyes. “Why now?” she insisted. “I need to know.”
He let his fingers play through hers. “A little bird came whispering by and mentioned that maybe what I’ve been looking for all along was right under my nose.”
“A bird,” she managed, her entire body tightening as he slid his hand free and toyed with the next button down, this one between her breasts. “Or, perhaps ... a flower?”
He paused, glanced up through those lashes. “Does it matter?”
Her heart stuttered a little. Why had she opened her big, curious mouth? “Yes,” she said quietly, knowing why. “It matters.” She forced herself not to pull away from him. To stand there and listen, and not run from the room
She’d have given anything to be able to tilt her chin just then and give him some sort of cocky come-on. But that kind of bravado was well beyond her at the moment. Mostly because she wasn’t in the habit of making empty boasts ... and in this game, she had no idea if she could back her taunts up.
“I guess I get to take my prize. Again.”
She said nothing. Her gaze was locked on his mouth as he spoke. Wondering what he would taste like. She was both terrified and thrilled at the very idea that she might get the chance to find out. This is Brodie, she reminded herself, scrabbling for an emotional foothold. You’ve known him forever. You can trust him to make this okay.
He held her gaze as he brushed her hair back over her shoulders, then toyed with the collar of her coveralls. For all her protestations, she found herself wishing fiercely that she was dressed in something more feminine. Or anything other than her grubby work clothes.
“You know,” he said casually, “I’ve probably seen you in these things, what, about a million times?”
Her heart sank and she wanted nothing more than for the floor to open up and swallow her shapeless, baggy self whole. She didn’t even bother to answer. As much as she wanted him to want her, she knew, deep down, that if she’d had to tart herself up as something she wasn’t, it wouldn’t be worth it. Although she admitted to a doubt or two as he tugged a little on the collar.
He let his hand drift to the first of a long row of buttons that fastened up the front, making her half wish she’d worn the zippered one.
“In all that time, I don’t think I’ve ever once wondered what you were wearing underneath.”
She gulped a little as her cheeks flamed. He’d never noticed her like she’d noticed him. He couldn’t be making that more clear. “Brodie,” she choked out, letting go of the table with one hand, intending to stop him.
Then he lifted his gaze to hers. And what she saw in his eyes wasn’t disinterest. Or even mild curiosity. What she found there wasn’t remotely casual. Anything but. She saw an intensity of want, and need. She saw desire. For her.
“Yet, right now,” he went on, his voice a husky murmur, “I can’t seem to think of anything else.” He slid the top button free, then another, pushing the edges apart. Her nipples were twin points of fierce need, and the muscles between her thighs had clenched so tightly together now, she might never be able to relax. He slipped another button free ... then another.
And suddenly this wasn’t a game any longer.
“What changed your mind?” she blurted out. Don’t stop him now, you bloody loon! But whatever sliver of sanity she had left told her she’d forever regret this if she didn’t understand his reasons behind this sudden about-face.
“Does it matter?” He slipped another button free. “Do you want me to stop?”
She automatically shook her head. What? It was the truth. She didn’t want him to stop. She just wanted to know why.
“Then let me get on with discoverin’ what treasures ye’ve been hiding from me all these years.”
Her hand came up of its own volition and covered his. “Brodie.” She heard the urgency in her own voice, and she wondered what he saw when he looked into her eyes. “Why now?” she insisted. “I need to know.”
He let his fingers play through hers. “A little bird came whispering by and mentioned that maybe what I’ve been looking for all along was right under my nose.”
“A bird,” she managed, her entire body tightening as he slid his hand free and toyed with the next button down, this one between her breasts. “Or, perhaps ... a flower?”
He paused, glanced up through those lashes. “Does it matter?”
Her heart stuttered a little. Why had she opened her big, curious mouth? “Yes,” she said quietly, knowing why. “It matters.” She forced herself not to pull away from him. To stand there and listen, and not run from the room
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