You and Me

You and Me by Veronica Larsen Read Free Book Online

Book: You and Me by Veronica Larsen Read Free Book Online
Authors: Veronica Larsen
motion to look into his eyes. They're an electric hue of blue, like the hottest part of a flame, threatening to engulf me where I stand.
    Without warning, his hand comes over mine. "Watch your fingers," he says, eyes locked on mine.
    His hand remains over my own, and his other comes to rest on the small of my back. His gaze lowers to my lips before he subtly licks his own in an apparently subconscious move. He leans in on an exhale and presses his lips to mine. Time lurches to a sweet stop as his tongue comes in for a taste, our mouths merging perfectly, and my nerve endings catching fire. But in just an instant, he pulls back, leaving my lips tingling and parted in surprise.
    "Just a taste," he says with a wink. Then he goes back to his chopping as though he didn't set my head spinning with sensations. How such a short kiss could leave me so goddamn hot, I have no idea.
    I'm in a cloud of internal steam when Adriano returns to compliment our food, which he says he can tell just from the smell, will be magnificent. Hungry, we are ushered away from our food and up a flight of stairs.  
    We emerge onto the building's rooftop. Midtown Manhattan sprawls out around us in all its glory, buildings crowding much of the skyline, but leaving just enough for me to glimpse the sky dimming with the last rays of sunlight. Patio lights strewn overhead glow brighter with each passing second. The city that never sleeps comes to life as night falls. New York City is the ultimate aphrodisiac.
    As if that's not enough, a small table awaits us, draped in a white tablecloth, candles twinkling in its center.  
    "Wow," I whisper, under my breath.  
    Jackson pulls my chair out and as I settle into the seat, he takes the one beside me. I like that we are sitting side by side versus across from each other. We have the same view of the city and he's close enough to touch. If I have enough nerve.
    "You like?"  
    Do I like? I more than like.  
    This man is getting all of the vagina tonight. All of it.
    "It's beautiful."  
    The food we cooked up downstairs is brought to us, served looking fancier than I remember it being. It tastes incredible, the most intoxicating blends of flavors exploding in my mouth and damn near making my eyes roll back in my head.
    "This is better than sex," I blurt out.
    Jackson looks up with the most adorable expression of outrage on his face.
    "Not better than my sex," he says. At my smile, he lays a warm hand just above my knee, sending a thrill up my spine. "Freckles, I can make you forget this pasta ever existed."
    I take in a small breath, trying to keep cool even as his hand moves an inch or two up my thigh, to where my dress ends.
    "You think so?"
    "I know so."
    He kisses me again. God, this man can kiss. It's absolute perfection, the way his lips dominate my mouth, the way his tongue toys with mine. Teasing and indulging all at once. This is more than just a taste, this is a feast.
    "You look good enough to eat," he whispers against my mouth before diving back into the kiss.
    Fuck. Fuck. Fuck , his kiss is hot as hell.
    My thoughts are a buzz as his fingers crawl under my dress, and I nearly lift from my seat in agonizing anticipation of his touch. Then the buzzing sounds become louder.  
    My thoughts are literally buzzing.
    Jackson pulls back, drawing his hand away to reach into his pocket. He glances at his cell and curses under his breath. "I'm being called in."  
    Frustration floods through me, but I try to keep it from my tone. "I'm sorry you have to go."
    "Don't be sorry, Freckles," he says, still eyeing my lips like he's not done with me. "You're coming with me."

CHAPTER EIGHT
    Samantha

    I'VE BEEN IN OPERATING rooms on multiple occasions, but never have I seen one from this angle. I sit behind the angled glass pane that overlooks the entire operating room from a floor above.
    I'm alone, starkly out of place in my cocktail attire. I watch the figures below move around like synchronized swimmers as they

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