The Naughty List Bundle - Kylie Adams [273]
Georgia levered up on stiffened arms, gasping in outrage—until his fingers moved deeply over the arch of her left foot, then up and over her toes. She gave a long, husky, vibrating groan.
The sound of her unrestrained pleasure made Jordan break out in a sweat. Her shoulders went limp and her head dropped forward as if her neck had no strength to hold it up. “This isn’t fair.”
“What?”
“A voice that seduces, perfect coffee, and now a foot massage.” She groaned again. “Ohmigod, that feels good.”
Jordan closed his eyes and applied himself to giving her the best damn foot rub she’d ever had in her life. “Relax,” he ordered, though he was so rigid a mere touch would have shattered him.
She obeyed. She dropped flat to the glider and rested her head on her folded arms. Every few seconds she moaned in bliss, stretching her toes like a cat being petted.
Jordan was so hard he hurt. He desperately wanted to slide his hands up the backs of her firm thighs, to slip his fingers beneath the loose hem of the shorts she wore. Probably, he reasoned, she’d thought the shorts to be unappealing because they were old and gray and faded. But the material hugged her curves and they were loose enough in the legs that he could now see all the way to the tops of her thighs.
He slid his hands up her warm, resilient calves. She had excellent muscle tone, and even as he stroked her, kneading her flesh, feeling her muscles relax, he admitted he was beyond pathetic when a woman’s muscle tone brought him to the edge.
Feeling like a damn lecher, he lifted one of her legs and was even able to see the edge of her panties, which—contrary to all he’d been telling himself—nearly made him erupt with carnal greed.
In a rasp totally unlike his normal seductive tone, he said, “Agree to my help, damn it.”
She sighed, adjusted her head more comfortably and murmured in a barely there voice, “It wouldn’t be right.”
Affronted, Jordan realized she was on the verge of sleep. Conflicting emotions bombarded him. Lust was there, tearing at his resolve, making his guts cramp, but there was also a throbbing explosion of tenderness, enough to expand his heart and tighten his lungs.
“I want to help you, Georgia.”
She sighed, and in the next instant started to snore softly. A reluctant smile curved his mouth. Never in his benighted life had a woman fallen asleep on him. It was a novelty he could have lived without, but then it occurred to him that perhaps this was exactly what he needed to gain the upper hand.
“Georgia?” He continued working the tendons in her feet, something he knew from experience that all women seemed to enjoy. Personally, if a female was going to rub him, he could think of better places than his feet.
She didn’t reply and after he gently placed her foot in his lap, he reached up and shook her shoulder.
She never stirred.
Jordan sat back with a grin. She’d said her children were very sound sleepers and now he knew that it was an inherited trait.
Beyond his feelings of triumph—because he really did have her now—it dawned on him that she was as vulnerable as a woman could be with a man, so she must trust him to some degree. And he wasn’t above taking advantage of it.
He stroked her hair, silky soft and warm. He indulged his need to touch her, to learn the textures and curves of her face, her neck, her shoulder. Her spine was graceful, leading down to that superior rump that looked so damn tantalizing there before him, like an offering.
He was an honorable man, so he kept his hands on safe ground, but he looked at every inch of her, then whispered, “I’ve got you now, sweetheart.”
And still she didn’t move.
It took a lot of willpower to walk away from her, to find a blanket