My first book published with Whiskey Creek Press was on their best sellers list for two consecutive months!
The bathroom wasn’t all that big and when Mike stepped further into the room it shrunk even smaller. “Sorry if I frightened you.” As he spoke his eyes moved around the room, searching for a good place for her to sit. There was only one place high enough. “Up.” He patted the vanity top.
“Up? I don’t think…” Before she could brace herself Mike’s hands went to her waist, hoisting her up without any trouble. She caught her breath when her legs came in contact with the cold marble surface.
“You were saying?” He took in her pretty blush, noticing she couldn’t meet his eyes.
"Do you always get your way?” There was a slight tremor in her voice, which didn’t go unnoticed by Mike. He couldn’t help wondering if she was as effected as he was by their close proximity. He began questioning his common sense. Her sitting on the vanity brought them almost at eye level.
“When it matters,” he responded with amusement He lowered his gaze, taking in the blood soaking her costume before opening the kit to see what it offered. Not much, but at least it had bandages and antibiotic ointment. He set it aside, reaching for Emma’s leg.
She stiffened immediately.
His eyes shot up to hers. “I haven’t even touched you yet.”
“I’m practicing,” she said with sass, the light in her eyes catching Mike’s interest and turning him warm inside.
For a second he wanted to do something crazy, like kiss that soft mouth. He wanted to know if it taste as sweet as it looked. He wondered if kissing her would erase the humor that always seemed present in her eyes, replacing it with something else. Something hot and needy. When he realized he was staring at her mouth he literally shook his head, swearing beneath his breath.
“Are you okay?” There was nothing at all innocent about her question. Not when she used that low, seductive tone and was looking at him like something she wanted to lap up.
Was he okay? Hell, he hadn’t been okay since the first time he looked into her large, brown eyes. He managed to find enough strength to ignore her comment, bending to the task at hand. His hands reached for the fabric covering her thigh, gently parting it where it was torn.
Taking a deep breath to steady his nerves and stop the shaking of his hands, he carefully inspected the wound. His fingers and knuckles grazed Emma’s soft skin and he clenched his teeth to ignore the rush of heat exploding through him. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d touched anything so satiny.
He gently probed the area, searching for any remaining glass. Emma caught her breath, stiffening, her hands falling upon his shoulders as though to push him away. Mike slowly raised his eyes to hers, losing himself in the sensual pools. His hands faltered. The glare of the bathroom light emphasized the situation between them making it more intimate than it should be.
“It’s not deep, you won’t need stitches. But if it heals up with glass inside it could become infected.”
“I know you’re not hurting me on purpose, Mike. Maybe I need a bullet to bite on or something.” The soft look in her eyes told him she trusted him. “Do what you need to do.”
What he needed to do and what he wanted to do was the same thing. If Emma only knew what she was inviting, he thought to himself. He was standing between her glorious thighs, touching her, his gaze dropped to her breasts noticing the peaks were crowned. They rose and fell softly with her every breath, teasing him, almost begging him for attention. If he made it out of there without making a complete fool of himself it would be a miracle.
As if sensing the direction of his thoughts Emma suddenly removed her hands from his shoulders. Lord, he thought, just let him finish up and get the hell out of there while he could still walk.