Page 60 of Raised On It

Three days since he told me how important I was to him.

Three days since thanking me for finally finding him.

Three days since leaving me sexually frustrated afternotsleeping with me again!

If I thought I was hot and bothered for the man before our trip to the brewery, it was nothing compared to how I felt after talking for an hour in his office. What I wouldn’t have given for him to rip my clothes off and take me on his leather couch. Hell, I would have been happy sprawled out on the dark wood of his desk after scattering its belongings all over the floor.

I just wanted him.

I thought for sure he would have come in with me after dinner with his parents, but instead, he told me to take the time he was away to really think about things. He said he wanted to be clear that he wasn’t talking about anything temporary. He was all in, and he needed to know I was too.

He also said he was tired of me using the fact that I'll be going back to New York as a reason to say this was temporary. As far as he was concerned, it was a moot point, and we would deal with that when the time came.

Well, I’ve had time to think about it, and frankly, I’m sexually frustrated. I know my time in Eastlyn will be short-lived, but for the time being, I’ve decided to live in the moment. To see where things go and to make the time Iamhere count.

It’s time to live in the here and now. If he can do it, then I can too.

Besides, I deserve a little happy.

Still trying to decide on what shoes to wear I’m balancing on one nude open-toed stiletto and checking the mirror to see if it’s the one when there’s a knock on the door.

“Eek!”

Squealing in frightened excitement, I kick my heel off and inadvertently hit the lamp on the bedside table.

Shit! He was supposed to text when he was headed this way.

Just knowing he’s on the other side of my front door has my heart dropping to my stomach. I run out of the room, leaving the bedroom a disaster zone, bouncing off the furniture like a pinball on my way to answer his knock. When my thigh hits the corner of the sofa table in the living room, it hurts like a son of a bitch, and it’s no doubt gonna leave a bruise, but there’s no slowing me down.

I can’t get to him fast enough, but when my fingertips touch the cool metal of the doorknob, I freeze. Taking in a deep breath, I needlessly smooth the front of my dress, trying to ease the nerves that are suddenly getting the best of me.

“I can hear you in there. Open the door, woman!”

I swing the door open to find Miles with suitcase in hand waiting for me impatiently.

“City Mouse, there you are. What took you so long?” He puts his bag in his other hand to push my hair behind my ear. “I missed you something awful.”

“Is that so?”

“Came straight here from the airport.”

He steps forward, forcing me to step back and let him in. He crosses the threshold and closes the door, placing his bag against the wall.

“I’m glad you did.”

Standing in the middle of the room, we stare at each other, neither of us moving a muscle. My insides, however, are a nervous wreck and shaking something fierce.

Hands shoved in his pockets, sandy blond hair a mess from his clear rush to get here, T-shirt clinging to his broad shoulders, he is the epitome of sex on a stick. All confidence and bravado. Yet his eyes…his eyes are looking for something. Answers to something I’m not privy to somehow. I’m afraid if I speak first, I’ll disappoint him by not giving him exactly what he’s waiting to hear.

Thank God, he finally speaks.

“You have time to think about things?”

Oh shit. He was really serious about that.

Still afraid to speak I confirm I have thought about things with a nod.

“Cause, Mason, I’m about to make love to you all night long, but only if I know you’re in. Like really in.”

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