Naturally Naughty - Leslie Kelly [42]
“You’re taking care of my hip.”
He nodded. Only a tiny twitch of his lips told her he knew what she’d been picturing him taking care of.
Touché. Score one for Mr. Gorgeous. She almost groaned out loud. But she didn’t. This game wasn’t over yet. Especially because he did not simply leave the pack in her capable hands and walk out of the room. No. He stayed, holding it against her skin, still standing between her knees. His jaw remained rigid as he sucked in deep breaths, as if he were trying to control himself by sheer force of will.
She dared a quick glance down. Those tight briefs can’t lie, sweetheart. She almost purred with satisfaction at the sight of his immense hard-on. A small spot of moisture on the gray cotton tempted her beyond belief. She wanted to touch it, taste it with her tongue. Wanted to have him explosive, hot and wet in her hand. Her mouth. Her body. All three.
Smiling slightly, she murmured, “Thank you for the ice.”
“I really am sorry I hurt you,” he rasped.
Her hip? Her heart? Her feelings? He didn’t clarify. She didn’t ask.
“Funny thing, ice. So cold, it’s almost painful. Yet it’s…pleasurable in a way. Makes me feel tingly.”
“Tingly?”
“Yeah. Almost…hot. As strange as that sounds.”
“Shut up, Kate, you’re breaking my concentration.”
She grinned. “Uh, sure. I know it takes a lot of concentration to hold an ice pack on someone. I mean, I’m sure that’s why there’s such a high turnover rate in the candy striper field…all that ice pack holding. Sheer torture.”
His bare shoulders—so thick, broad and toned—shook as he chuckled. Darn, he’d succeeded in distracting her. The laughter hadn’t changed the way she felt, though. She shifted, not feigning her discomfort on the hard surface of the small counter. She was wet and throbbing, sensitive and needy, and the countertop didn’t help things. “This isn’t the most comfortable place to sit. It’s almost as hard as that table at the Rialto.”
His eyes narrowed as he continued to stare at the ice pack, holding it steady. Now and then, though, she’d feel his fingers shift, feel him touch her, just the tip of an index finger on her hipbone. So light and fleeting at first she thought she’d imagined it. Now she ached for it.
“So, you never answered my question, Jack.”
“What question?”
“About whether you want to see my little toy.”
“I thought you were joking.”
Reaching for her purse, she unzipped a side pouch and pulled out the small carrying case.
“You weren’t kidding,” he said, staring at the plastic pouch. His stare never wavered as she flicked the snap open with her thumb.
“One of the hottest sellers at Bare Essentials.”
“Your store?”
Nodding, she ran her fingers along the tip of the vibrator, knowing he paid very close attention.
“You sell vibrators in your ladies’ shop?”
She tsked. “You never did go back and find that article, did you, Jack? If you had, you’d know that Bare Essentials isn’t a typical ladies store. We sell intimate items for women.”
“Like that,” he said, nodding toward the vibrator.
Smiling lazily. “Like this. And other things. Lots of delightful…other things.”
He raised a brow. “So, you own a porn shop?”
She sniffed. “Bare Essentials does not sell pornography. We have lots of fun, sexy toys for ladies and couples. People come from other cities to shop for our lingerie, which is designed by my partner. We have a media section, with tasteful, instructional books. Plus erotic videos geared for women and couples. But nothing X-rated.”
“I’m not criticizing, Kate,” he said, obviously sensing her defensive reaction. “I’m fascinated. You have obviously made a big success for yourself. It’s not often you see the owner of a sex shop on the cover of the Chicago Business Journal. You should be very proud.”
Sensing he really wasn’t being judgmental, and finding herself refreshed by his attitude, she relaxed slightly. “We found a niche. A clean, tasteful, brightly lit place for