“Honey, I always want pie.” He looked into her eyes and reached for the dish towel. Slowly, he pul ed it from her shoulder. “It’s been a while since I’ve had good pie.”

Somehow, she doubted that. “No pie jokes.” She lifted a hand and rubbed the back of her neck.

“I never joke about pie.” He tossed the towel and moved behind her. He pushed her hand aside. “Pie is serious business.”

“What are you doing?”

“You’re al knotted up.” He pressed his thumbs into the base of her neck and pushed inward. “You were so tense during dinner, I thought you were going to shatter.”

She’d thought she might shatter, too, and his hands felt good. So good, she almost moaned out loud. Total y inappropriate, though, and she’d stop him in a minute. “That might have had something to do with you and my brother acting like idiots.” Then he pressed his thumbs into the base of her skul , rubbed in tight circles, and she put her hands on the counter to keep from melting into a puddle by his size-fourteen loafers.

“It could have been worse.”

She dropped her head forward and her hair fel across her cheeks. “Yeah. You two could have jumped across the table and stabbed each other with butter knives.”

He laughed and slid his thumbs beneath the col ar of her blouse. “Unbutton your shirt.”

“Are you high?”

“Not today.” He squeezed her shoulders in his big hot hands. “Don’t you trust me?”

“Of course not.”

“That’s probably wise.” He laughed, a soft little chuckle that slid up her skul with his thumbs. “Your col ar is in the way.”

“I’m not taking my shirt off.”

“Not off. Just maybe two buttons to loosen up your col ar.” He pressed his fingers into her knotted shoulder muscles, and her eyes about rol ed back into her head. “I get my kinks worked al the time. I’m pretty much a professional.”

Two buttons. She raised her hands and unbuttoned her shirt to the white bow in the middle of her white bra. His voice got a little deeper, and he said, “Slide your hair to one side.”

With her right hand, she reached behind her and pul ed her hair over her right shoulder.

He pushed the back of her col ar. “One more. I promise I won’t look.”

She unbuttoned one more, and somehow the top of her blouse was halfway down her shoulders.

“Better?” His hands squeezed her bare shoulders.

“Yes.” Definitely not safer, though. But God, his hands were magic, sliding over her skin and pressing into her taut muscles. The tips of his fingers slid across her col arbone, and his thumbs worked the knots where her neck met her shoulders. Her tension eased, and she relaxed. With each magic squeeze of his warm hands, her guard lowered, and her body heated.

His palms worked outward, pausing to squeeze the bal s of her shoulders and slipping down her arms. His hands spanned her ribs on the outside of her blouse, and he pressed his thumbs into her spine. “Are you sure you don’t want to take off your shirt?”

No, she wasn’t sure at al . She wasn’t sure she didn’t want to lean back into him, into his solid chest, and stay there a while. “I’m sure.”

He slid his hands down her sides to her waist then to her hips. She felt his warm breath by her ear. “I like your skirt.”

Her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth, and she swal owed hard. “It’s vintage.”

“It’s tight,” he whispered against the sensitive side of her neck. “It makes your ass look good.” His palms slid to her bel y and pul ed her back against his chest. The curve of her bottom pressed into his groin. “It gives me bad thoughts.” Through the fabric of his pants and her skirt, his erection brushed against her bottom. “Wanna hear a few?”

Yes, she did, but she knew it was a real y bad idea. Her voice was weak and not at al convincing when she answered, “No.”

He kissed the side of her throat. “Is this stil one of your sweet spots?” The wet press of his hot mouth forced a shudder to work through her relaxed body from the inside out. “Mmm,” he hummed against her skin, adding delicious little shivers and sending her into a sensory overload. She turned and put her hands on his chest to stop him. Through the thin wool of his sweater, and the hard muscles of his chest, she could feel the beating of his heart, much faster than the slow smooth touch of his hands. “We can’t do this.”

One of his hands moved across her bare shoulder to the side of her face. “I’ve been thinking about you a lot.” His lips touched hers, and her breath caught in her throat. “Thinking about you and wondering.”

“What?” Her fingers curled into his sweater.


Tags: Rachel Gibson Chinooks Hockey Team Romance