Page 120 of Skate the Line

“Not so fast,” I say in a low voice.

My arm comes around the front of her waist, and I press her against me. I lower my mouth to her ear, and she stills in my arms.

“You can’t just run off after saying something like that.”

Her voice shakes. “You’re going to just have to forget I said anything.”

Yeah fucking right.

“I don’t want to lose my job,” she whispers.

Now it’s my turn to pause.

Of course she thinks I’m going to fire her over this. Why wouldn’t she, given what I’ve told her about past nannies?

The difference between Sunny and the rest are her intentions. She isn’t trying to get me to fuck her. She doesn’t crawl into my bed late at night with desperation and hope that I’ll marry her and shower her with my wealth.

This is impulsive behavior.

Not sought-out and well-planned.

I mean, I basically had to force her to spill the dirty little thoughts to begin with.

“I’m not firing you because you enjoyed my touch, Sunshine.”

My heart is flying faster than it ever has before. It’s impressive that she can do this to my body.

Her gulp catches my attention, and I hate that I can’t see her face. Not that I can read her. She’s always catching me off guard with surprise. But still, I want to see the look on her face when I tell her what I’m thinking.

“I should have never touched you to begin with.” It’s the truth. I shouldn’t have stepped in after that asshole got her all flustered. “But I did.”

She surprises me,again,by turning around in my grip. We’re surrounded by the dark, yet I’m still able to trace the curve of her lips. “It didn’t make me recoil or panic…” she whispers. “Instead, it got me all twisted. It woke something up and?—”

“Then let me finish.”

This is not a good idea.

“What?” Her sweet breath, still smelling like birthday cake, fans against my face.

My mouth waters.

“There are no feelings involved,” I admit. “You need someone who you can trust to help you through your fear.” I let my words linger for a second. “It can be a one-time thing.”

I feel her stare, and it makes me burn.

I’m desperate. My blood runs hot the longer she’s pressed against me. The sweet scent of her breath, the way her long hair brushes against my arm. I picture the way she kissed that guy, and my stomach drops.

“If you don’t want me to finish”—I creep my hand up the side of her body and push her hair behind her ear—“that’s okay. We can act like this never happened?—”

“Don’t fall in love with me.”

My body tenses. “Is that what you’re afraid of?”

She nods. “If we do this, it’s a one-time thing. Just to see if I can keep it together throughout...”

Throughout me touching you.

My dick twitches, and I’m hungry. So fucking hungry. Forher.

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