too.”
“How far is it out there?”
“It’s too far. An hour.”
“I drive fast.”
“You shouldn’t. It’s really late, and I have to work tomorrow. ”
“You mean it?”
“No.”
“Give me directions.”
She lay in bed after she hung up, shaking faintly, wondering what had come over her that the mere sound of his voice could make her feverish with longing. She’d never believed such feelings actually existed, that another person could provoke such spine-tingling sensations. When other women had talked about the breathless ecstasy some man provoked in them, she’d always thought they were overemotional wing nuts.
Apparently, she’d been wrong.
Which was good and bad. Good, because what she was feeling was fantastic. But not so good that she was wildly out of control.
She’d never been that kind of person.
The man behind the wheel of Chaz’s silver-gray BMW was speeding north with one eye out for the highway patrol. Less introspective by habit as well as circumstance—in this case, his rock-hard cock was serving as power player—he was pretty much focused on consummation. Issues of restraint or the lack thereof would have to wait until a more coolheaded time.
He glanced at the clock on the dash, flicked his gaze upward to check out the rearview mirror, then quickly surveying the wide-open road before him, punched the accelerator.
His voice of reason tried to make itself heard, clamoring, Turn around, turn around, don’t get involved! But his libido was deaf to reason, or maybe the stereo, turned up high, drowned out admonitions to caution.
He had the windows down to the summer night, a prime song was singing the pleasures of foxy ladies and wild sex, and he was on his way to get some.
Let’s see what this baby can do , he thought, flooring it.
What to wear, what to wear! Tossing the covers aside, Liv quickly rose from her bed and moved toward her closet, looking for inspiration. Should she greet him like this— naked? Or should she dress or wear a robe or maybe some sexy lingerie? Aaagh . . . stupid indecision, when in the past she wouldn’t have given it a second thought. She would have welcomed him any which way. Dressed or undressed, sexy or not sexy, however the mood struck her. And now she was debating the minutia of sexual politesse as though she’d never had a man sleep over before.
Really, this was ridiculous.
She stopped just short of her closet, her decision made.
She’d put on an ordinary robe, like the blue seersucker one on her chair. Keep it casual. Don’t make this something it isn’t. Sex is sex is sex.
Or not, as it turned out.
Fortunately, it took Jake nearly an hour to reach Liv’s farm, allowing her the opportunity to try on and discard a dozen different outfits. All of which were now—in her haste—tossed out of sight in her closet. Finally, glancing at the clock, she had no choice but to give it up and race downstairs. She wanted to wait on the porch in order not to wake Matt or Janie.
Just as she stepped outside, car headlights appeared at the entrance to her drive.
She stood at the top of the stairs as the car approached and came to rest at the edge of her lawn. She didn’t move as Jake stepped out and walked toward her unless the faint tremble in her hands counted. When he stopped at the bottom of the stairs and smiled up at her, she thought she might come just looking at him. He was consummate male machismo limned by moonlight. Powerful and assured in what she was coming to recognize as his uniform of jeans and a white T-shirt, he looked up at her with lady-killer eyes.
“Nice,” he said, indicating her dress with a lift of his hand. “The age of innocence in moonlight.” Her eyelet dress was pure white virginal chic.
“Thanks.” She tried to keep her voice placid like his but didn’t quite succeed. She touched the Dolce and Gabbana ruffled skirt with a shaky hand. “I didn’t know what to wear,” she added
“How far is it out there?”
“It’s too far. An hour.”
“I drive fast.”
“You shouldn’t. It’s really late, and I have to work tomorrow. ”
“You mean it?”
“No.”
“Give me directions.”
She lay in bed after she hung up, shaking faintly, wondering what had come over her that the mere sound of his voice could make her feverish with longing. She’d never believed such feelings actually existed, that another person could provoke such spine-tingling sensations. When other women had talked about the breathless ecstasy some man provoked in them, she’d always thought they were overemotional wing nuts.
Apparently, she’d been wrong.
Which was good and bad. Good, because what she was feeling was fantastic. But not so good that she was wildly out of control.
She’d never been that kind of person.
The man behind the wheel of Chaz’s silver-gray BMW was speeding north with one eye out for the highway patrol. Less introspective by habit as well as circumstance—in this case, his rock-hard cock was serving as power player—he was pretty much focused on consummation. Issues of restraint or the lack thereof would have to wait until a more coolheaded time.
He glanced at the clock on the dash, flicked his gaze upward to check out the rearview mirror, then quickly surveying the wide-open road before him, punched the accelerator.
His voice of reason tried to make itself heard, clamoring, Turn around, turn around, don’t get involved! But his libido was deaf to reason, or maybe the stereo, turned up high, drowned out admonitions to caution.
He had the windows down to the summer night, a prime song was singing the pleasures of foxy ladies and wild sex, and he was on his way to get some.
Let’s see what this baby can do , he thought, flooring it.
What to wear, what to wear! Tossing the covers aside, Liv quickly rose from her bed and moved toward her closet, looking for inspiration. Should she greet him like this— naked? Or should she dress or wear a robe or maybe some sexy lingerie? Aaagh . . . stupid indecision, when in the past she wouldn’t have given it a second thought. She would have welcomed him any which way. Dressed or undressed, sexy or not sexy, however the mood struck her. And now she was debating the minutia of sexual politesse as though she’d never had a man sleep over before.
Really, this was ridiculous.
She stopped just short of her closet, her decision made.
She’d put on an ordinary robe, like the blue seersucker one on her chair. Keep it casual. Don’t make this something it isn’t. Sex is sex is sex.
Or not, as it turned out.
Fortunately, it took Jake nearly an hour to reach Liv’s farm, allowing her the opportunity to try on and discard a dozen different outfits. All of which were now—in her haste—tossed out of sight in her closet. Finally, glancing at the clock, she had no choice but to give it up and race downstairs. She wanted to wait on the porch in order not to wake Matt or Janie.
Just as she stepped outside, car headlights appeared at the entrance to her drive.
She stood at the top of the stairs as the car approached and came to rest at the edge of her lawn. She didn’t move as Jake stepped out and walked toward her unless the faint tremble in her hands counted. When he stopped at the bottom of the stairs and smiled up at her, she thought she might come just looking at him. He was consummate male machismo limned by moonlight. Powerful and assured in what she was coming to recognize as his uniform of jeans and a white T-shirt, he looked up at her with lady-killer eyes.
“Nice,” he said, indicating her dress with a lift of his hand. “The age of innocence in moonlight.” Her eyelet dress was pure white virginal chic.
“Thanks.” She tried to keep her voice placid like his but didn’t quite succeed. She touched the Dolce and Gabbana ruffled skirt with a shaky hand. “I didn’t know what to wear,” she added
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