Tease Me by Dawn Atkins Read Free Book Online Page B

sagging to the middle of her thigh. Just plain begging to be ripped off. All he could say was, “Great pie.”

4
    “I’ M GLAD YOU LIKED IT ,” Heidi said, fuzzy-brained from being jolted awake by Jackson’s crash into the weight bench and subsequent cursing. She’d barely drifted off. Even as exhausted as she was, tension about her plight made it tough to sleep. “I moved your bench because it fit better there. I guess I should have warned you in my note.” She’d never imagined he’d back into the room or not turn on a light. “Are you hurt?”
    “You’re wearing my shirt.” He swallowed visibly, still rubbing the back of his head, and blinked at her. Repeatedly.
    “I hope it’s not a favorite.” She’d found it under the dresser, buttonless and streaked with washed-out grease, so she’d been positive he’d used it as a rag. She’d washed it, along with her only clothes, in the tiny washer-dryer combo unit, figuring it would do for pajamas.
    “Used to be my lucky work shirt. I had a vintage car repair shop. It’s just a sweat rag now.” His voice was faint, his eyes transfixed. “On you it looks new.”
    She blushed to her toes, hoping he couldn’t see how easily she’d reddened. The only light was from a nightlight in the hall featuring a topless native woman with a hibiscus in her hair.
    Jackson perused her body, top to bottom, and backagain, lingering here and there—her toes, thighs, breasts, then settling on her mouth. Something very male showed in his eyes. Maybe she hadn’t blown it completely with the hot-oil-shiny-engine remark. He sure wasn’t joking now.
    He smelled of bay rum and car leather and cigarettes, a combination that made her think of clinking ice in smoky liquor and dangerous promises made in dark bars. Excitement coursed through her. The narrow hall felt intimate and they were very alone.
    “Sorry I woke you,” he said.
    “Sorry I hurt you.”
    “Mild concussion. Couple bruises.” He shrugged, still looking transfixed.
    “I wasn’t really asleep.”
    “No? Worried?”
    “A little, I guess.”
    “So how about a nightcap? Loosen the tension.” He gestured for her to accompany him. “Come on.”
    Come on. He’d said that to her before, just being friendly, and she’d liked the way it made her feel as though she belonged. This time there was sexual interest in the words, and she felt a thrill. Maybe something could happen after all. Right now. Tonight.
    She followed him down the hall, liking the way her smaller steps echoed his big thuds. In the kitchen, he grabbed highball glasses from the cupboard and went for ice.
    She noticed a heap of cosmetics beside a stack of folded clothes on the table and a key on a note. “What’s this?”
    “Some extra stuff from girls at the club,” he said, not looking at her.
    She fingered the containers. “But this is all new. You bought it for me?”
    “God, not me. I’m not that kind of guy. Nevada picked it out.” He grinned, but he was glossing over his thoughtfulness. “Just drugstore stuff.”
    “That was very sweet.” She picked up the key. “And this?”
    He glanced her way. “For as long as you’re here.”
    She liked having a place until she figured out what to do, even if it reflected poorly on her self-reliance.
    “You need a ride to work?” He twisted the ice tray over the glasses, his forearm muscles twining nicely.
    “A bus line goes right by the salon. The stop’s just on Thomas.”
    “I’ve got two vehicles. You can borrow my van, no problem.”
    “I’ll be fine.” Jackson was a generous guy. Probably in bed, too. And sex was an important step in her journey. Lemonade from lemons, right?
    She watched him slide the empty ice tray back and forth under the faucet, his muscles swelling and subsiding. She imagined those arms around her body, those blunt-tipped fingers on her skin. He shoved the refilled tray back into the freezer.
    “Bar’s in the living room.” He tilted his head toward the