shocked her from her fantasy world with a startled yelp. She reached for the faucets and quickly shut off the water. So much for her long, hot shower. Apparently the brilliant lawyer couldn't conclude that kitchen pipes and bathroom pipes ran off the same water heater.
She reached for a towel and wrapped it around her body. Although she was more than modestly covered by the plush bath sheet, she checked the hall before darting to the bedroom to change. She struggled to pull the form fitting mini-dress over her hips as the slinky fabric clung to her damp skin.
Hawk was still working in the kitchen when she came up behind him. "That was fast.” As he glanced over his shoulder, his eyes seemed to double in size. Her outfit, a departure from her baggy shifts, commanded his full attention.
"Something wrong?" she asked.
"That dress ought to be illegal.” He shook his head violently. "Sorry. Have a seat. Dinner will be ready soon."
"In a moment.” She lifted up the lid on the skillet and peeked inside. "It smells good."
"So do you.” He stood behind her. Though he made no physical contact she was aware of every muscle of his body. He rested his hands on the counter, pinning her in place. The man certainly knew how to invade her space. "What's the name of that perfume you're wearing?"
"Baby Powder."
The warm breath of his laughter tickled her neck. She turned in the small circle of his arms and leaned back against the counter.
He reached behind her with his hand and tugged gently on the bottom of her braid until she gazed up into his slate grey eyes. "Are you going to deck me if I kiss you?"
"I can't be sure until you try. Are you a gambler?"
"Not normally," he muttered and lowered his head to take the risk anyway. He brushed his mouth over hers, flicking the edge of her lips with his tongue. His hands moved along her back, pulling her closer with each tender stroke.
Gillian became lost in the heady power of his kiss. She snuggled against his chest. Her last conscious thought was that she wished she’d made him keep his promise not to wear a shirt.
Her lips parted under the pressure of his mouth. His tongue plunged deep inside, filling her, teasing her until it was a torment. Heat burned a path through her body and settled in her lower abdomen where the evidence of his own excitement pressed firmly against her.
Hawk sprinkled a line of kisses down the side of her face. He nipped playfully at her gold earring and sucked on her lobe, sending shivering tingles of delight down her spine. His large hand cupped her breast. Using his thumb and index finger, he massaged the erect nipple through the fabric of her dress, showing no mercy until she let out a cry. Never had she experienced such an exquisite torture. She didn't want the feeling to end.
Long past the point of being shocked by her own behavior, she slid her hands into his back pockets and held him as she arched in even closer. She rotated her hips in circular motion, drawing a muffled groan of pleasure from deep in Hawk's throat. He matched his movements to hers, in a seductive dance that made the tango seem like a fox trot by comparison.
Slowly she became aware of a bubbling sound followed by a loud hiss. She opened her eyes. White foam spewed over a pot like Mount St. Helen in full eruption. The sight so visually paralleled her emotions that she stared for a few seconds without reacting.
She had been desperately close to the edge and they still had their clothes on. She could only imagine what it would be like to lay down next to him naked and feel his hot skin against hers.
"The water is boiling over," she finally mumbled as she stepped out of his embrace.
"So am I," he grunted. He turned off the stove with a sharp twist of his wrist and looked in the pot of starchy white water. "It's a lost cause."
Gillian pulled at the bottom of her dress, which had risen up so that it was embarrassingly close to covering nothing at all. "A little cold
She reached for a towel and wrapped it around her body. Although she was more than modestly covered by the plush bath sheet, she checked the hall before darting to the bedroom to change. She struggled to pull the form fitting mini-dress over her hips as the slinky fabric clung to her damp skin.
Hawk was still working in the kitchen when she came up behind him. "That was fast.” As he glanced over his shoulder, his eyes seemed to double in size. Her outfit, a departure from her baggy shifts, commanded his full attention.
"Something wrong?" she asked.
"That dress ought to be illegal.” He shook his head violently. "Sorry. Have a seat. Dinner will be ready soon."
"In a moment.” She lifted up the lid on the skillet and peeked inside. "It smells good."
"So do you.” He stood behind her. Though he made no physical contact she was aware of every muscle of his body. He rested his hands on the counter, pinning her in place. The man certainly knew how to invade her space. "What's the name of that perfume you're wearing?"
"Baby Powder."
The warm breath of his laughter tickled her neck. She turned in the small circle of his arms and leaned back against the counter.
He reached behind her with his hand and tugged gently on the bottom of her braid until she gazed up into his slate grey eyes. "Are you going to deck me if I kiss you?"
"I can't be sure until you try. Are you a gambler?"
"Not normally," he muttered and lowered his head to take the risk anyway. He brushed his mouth over hers, flicking the edge of her lips with his tongue. His hands moved along her back, pulling her closer with each tender stroke.
Gillian became lost in the heady power of his kiss. She snuggled against his chest. Her last conscious thought was that she wished she’d made him keep his promise not to wear a shirt.
Her lips parted under the pressure of his mouth. His tongue plunged deep inside, filling her, teasing her until it was a torment. Heat burned a path through her body and settled in her lower abdomen where the evidence of his own excitement pressed firmly against her.
Hawk sprinkled a line of kisses down the side of her face. He nipped playfully at her gold earring and sucked on her lobe, sending shivering tingles of delight down her spine. His large hand cupped her breast. Using his thumb and index finger, he massaged the erect nipple through the fabric of her dress, showing no mercy until she let out a cry. Never had she experienced such an exquisite torture. She didn't want the feeling to end.
Long past the point of being shocked by her own behavior, she slid her hands into his back pockets and held him as she arched in even closer. She rotated her hips in circular motion, drawing a muffled groan of pleasure from deep in Hawk's throat. He matched his movements to hers, in a seductive dance that made the tango seem like a fox trot by comparison.
Slowly she became aware of a bubbling sound followed by a loud hiss. She opened her eyes. White foam spewed over a pot like Mount St. Helen in full eruption. The sight so visually paralleled her emotions that she stared for a few seconds without reacting.
She had been desperately close to the edge and they still had their clothes on. She could only imagine what it would be like to lay down next to him naked and feel his hot skin against hers.
"The water is boiling over," she finally mumbled as she stepped out of his embrace.
"So am I," he grunted. He turned off the stove with a sharp twist of his wrist and looked in the pot of starchy white water. "It's a lost cause."
Gillian pulled at the bottom of her dress, which had risen up so that it was embarrassingly close to covering nothing at all. "A little cold
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