Hot in Here by Sophie Renwick Read Free Book Online Page B

by ABC Amber LIT Conv erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
    to mention fueled his imagination.
    She had the finest ass he’d ever seen. Full and round, begging to be cupped by his hand.
    Shit!What was he thinking, cupping her ass? This was Jenna. Safe little Jenna. The friend he hadn’t had
    any sexual thoughts about. Well, not since . . . Okay. He finally allowed the dirty truth to come up. There
    had been a few times when he’d awaken from a vivid dream, his sheets tangled and wet, his brain
    burning with images of him and Jenna.
    But he’d always laughed it off. Always thought it absurd. He used to tell himself that the dreams were
    about Jenna because she was the only woman he really knew well. They were friends, had spent a lot of
    time together. Naturally she’d invade his dreams.
    Pressing forward, he leaned over the counter and watched Jenna. Her profile was just as stunning as the
    back view. Her breasts were just as hot as her ass, and the way they bounced and moved as she
    reached for the blanket that lay across the back of the sofa had him groaning.
    Man, he was hard. And completely fucking losing it.
    Jenna was a friend. He wanted that friendship. Depended on it. No way was he going to toss a decade
    of friendship down the toilet because his subconscious all of a sudden decided to cough up a few
    instances of past wet dreams involving Jenna.
    He couldn’t imagine his life without Jenna in it. She had always been there, to talk to and hang with. He
    liked just calling her up for no reason and chatting. He liked how they laughed at the same things. If he
    couldn’t have that anymore, if he ruined the relationship by making it all awkward and heavy with sexual
    shit, he didn’t know what he’d do.
    But what about when she finds Mr. Right,the insistent voice in his head asked.How much do you think
    he’s going to tolerate your phone calls and late-night visits? Probably about as well as he tolerated the
    thought of Jenna wearing that skimpy nightie for another man—including Tyson.
    God, he didn’t even want to go there. His emotions and thoughts were all over the map tonight and he
    couldn’t understand why. What was it about Jenna today? What was it about her walk, the way her ass
    moved, that had him wanting to risk their friendship by taking it into the bedroom? And what was it about
    her that suddenly had him thinking how damn nice it would be to always have this, this closeness with
    her?
    The relationship word suddenly crept onto his radar and he panicked. Then, thank God, Jenna’s voice
    squelched the thought before it could become a full-blown visual of a picket fence.
    “Movie’s starting,” she called from the living room.
    “I’m on it,” he answered back, not moving, just watching as she sat on the couch and crossed her legs.
    They weren’t overly long, but man, they were shapely. The kind that would feel really good and soft
    wrapped around him. The kind of shapely, womanly flesh he hadn’t felt in all his other girlfriends.
    He heard the Psychedelic Furs singing “Pretty in Pink,” and he got his ass moving. Looking through the
    cupboards, he found two bowls and a couple of spoons, and tore into the still-steaming dessert.
    Inhaling the aroma, he savored it, hoping to hell she liked it. This was an untested concoction he’d just
    created. And poor Jenna was the guinea pig.
    Carrying the bowls, he hit the switch with his elbow, killing the light spilling from the kitchen. Candles
    glowed on the coffee table, and the light from the television screen made it bright enough for them to see.
    “Mmm, what’s this?” Jenna asked as she reached out for a bowl. “Smells delicious.”
    “Just something I cooked up in honor of your twenty-eighth birthday.”
    Jenna wrinkled her nose. “Let’s not talk numbers tonight.”
    “Deal,” he said, settling back against the leather sofa. “As long as that also includes my numbers and that
    plan of