Page 41 of Baby, It’s Hot Inside

“Do what?”

“Try to make conversation like you’re not horrified to be trapped here with me. Like this is a perfectly normal evening of tacos shared with a friend.”

“Maybe I’m not horrified to be trapped here with you.”

“Please. Let’s not pretend this is anything other than a colossal fuck up on Savannah and Ren’s part. They clearly need better matchmaking skills.”

He gives me a thoughtful look, then clears his throat. “I know we’ve had our differences in the past, but I don’t think I’m that bad of a catch. I wasn’t forcing the conversation; I was genuinely asking about your business.”

Oh. I try to think of something to say to make it better, but my mind is blank.

He wipes his mouth with a napkin. “I’m going to go grab one more haul of firewood in case the snow gets worse than is forecasted. “Thanks for dinner.”

Then he disappears out the door with his faithful pup at his feet.

Ugh, now I feel like a mean, wretched bitch. I blow out a breath. Maybe I should suggest that we just forget we went to high school together. Forget we have a shared past and just start over. Maybe we can be friends.

I don’t know how I’m going to get any sleep at all tonight knowing that there is nothing but a wall between me and Luca.

Why does he have to look so good all the time? And smell so good?

I snuggle under the fluffy down comforter and open up my e-reader. Thankfully I’m already in the middle of a delicious bully romance and the heroine just discovered that the hot guy she’s been chatting up online is actually her nemesis. So I know it’s about to get good.

It doesn’t take me too long to sink back into the story. Oh damn, and it doesn’t take long for the hero to sink to his knees and eat the heroine out from behind.

Good grief, I’ve never had a man want me that badly, need me that urgently. I don’t know why I devour these particular types of books, but I read them by the dozens. Characters that seem ill-suited, that seem to not match at all, that seem—by all accounts—to not get along, yet are so ultimately made for each other their chemistry is explosive. Bully romance is my particular catnip and it doesn’t take a goddamn genius to figure out why. Luca and I might not get along, but I am obviously harboring some serious sexual fantasies about the man. And who could blame me? He’s so damn sexy, he looks more like a male model than an FBI agent.

By the time I’m done reading the chapter, I’m so slick between my thighs I should be embarrassed. But fuck that.

You know what is embarrassing, though?

The whole time I was reading, I wasn’t imagining the handsome blue-eyed, steely-jawed guy on the cover of the book. Nope. In my mind, the guy with his head between my thighs was Luca.

I turn off my reader, dousing the room in darkness, then set it on the bedside table.

For the record, I’m definitely equipped to hand out mind-blowing orgasms. You just need to ask.

Luca’s words from earlier replay in my mind. I know he was being a smart ass, calling me out on what he caught me saying. Still, it’s tempting. What would he say if I just crawled into the bed next to him and asked him to prove it to me?

I have a feeling when it comes to this particular fact, Luca is not all talk. He’s got that kind of mouth, you know? You can just tell from looking at the curve of lips, the way he holds his jaw, that man knows how to kiss.

One thing’s for sure, I’ve got to make myself come because I’m not going to go and ask him to do it. I slide my hand down my body, pausing to pinch my nipple, then twist it, before slipping it inside my panties.

I’m so slick that my fingers just glide over clit. I swallow a groan. Then I work my clit in small, tight circles, keeping my rhythm slow and steady. I want to squeeze my thighs together and go faster, pull my climax out quicker, but I know it will be bigger and more intense if I let it build.

I close my eyes, trying to go back to the mental pictures from my book. Instead, my stupid imagination conjures images of Luca hovering between my thighs. He tells me how badly he wants to fuck me, but that he’s going to make me come first so he can hear me scream his name while he tastes my orgasm.

And that’s what does it. I shudder and quake beneath the covers as I come faster than I ever have before. All because of one fantasy of Luca Daniels. Thank God he’s leaving in the morning.

I’m not sure what wakes me up first, the fact that it’s so ridiculously cold in the room or pressure on the bed.

“Jackie,” Luca says into the darkness.

I sit up. “What’s the matter?”

He holds out his phone on flashlight mode, the light directed away from us, but illuminating a bit of the bed. “The power went off. It’s cold as balls in my room.”

As soon as he says it, I realize just how cold I already I am. I’ve got plenty of blankets, but I woke up shivering.