Page 69 of Burn Bag
And that kiss.
Fuck, that kiss was amazing.
I hadn’t imagined I could ever be so turned on by another woman again. Not after Isla. But I could see now that what I felt for my childhood friend was nothing more than lust. I wasn’t sure I ever really loved her beyond the bond we’d had since we were kids. The idea of finding a woman who loved me for me had overridden my brain until all I could think about was possessing her.
That hadn’t turned out so well for me. In reality, I really didn’t know Isla at all. IKE seemed to understand her in a way I never had. And even I had to grudgingly admit that they were perfect for each other. Even if the bastard had snaked in and stolen her from me.
But Daphne…She was different. If I was going to make this work, I had to take my time and get to know her.
So much for not rushing into things. What the hell had I been thinking, finding a wife online? My biggest problem with Isla had been moving too fast, and then I ran out and found the first woman I could marry and put a ring on her finger. Psychologists would have a field day with me.
So, my plan was to take it slow—to get to know my wife before I did something crazy like sleep with her. I needed to understand who she was as a person. Right now, all I had to go on was the fact that she liked cats, was prone to hospital visits, and was sexy as hell.
Maybe I could get her to fill out a personality profile or something to move things along.
“What smells so good?”
I glanced over my shoulder, clenching my jaw in irritation at what I saw. She was wearing one of my shirts with small black shorts underneath that barely peeked out. And she looked fucking sexy as hell.
“Sorry, I borrowed your shirt. I didn’t want to pull anything over my head.”
I ground my teeth together as I tried to ignore how fucking sexy she looked, how her nipples peeked out against the material, and how her legs were showcased like a porno for me. Fuck, this was not helping me in the slightest.
“I—I hope it’s okay,” she said nervously when I didn’t answer.
“It’s fine,” I said, turning away. I got to work dishing out breakfast, doing my best to ignore her as she took a seat at the island. Fuck, why did she have to wear my shirt? Didn’t she realize how fucking amazing she looked in that? Didn’t she see the effect it had on me?
“You’re angry,” she said quietly.
I tossed the spatula aside after laying the waffles on the plate. “Not at all.”
“You look angry.”
“I’m not,” I snapped, setting the plate in the center of the island.
“I can change,” she said, starting to stand, but I reached across the island and snagged her hand, preventing her from leaving.
“It’s not that.”
Gnawing at her lip nervously only made things harder on my cock. I knew my face was twisted in some sort of snarl, but I couldn’t stop it. I was a fucking wreck.
“Look, I didn’t mean to be so presumptuous.”
“It’s fine. Really,” I said, trying to calm myself down. “It’s just…” I decided to go for honesty. Otherwise, she would think I was pissed at her. “You…there are certain aspects of women wearing men’s clothing that…does things to a man.”
“What things?” she asked it so fucking innocently that I groaned, and then she got the picture. “Oh!” Her hands flew to chest, which did nothing to help. “Uh…sorry. I didn’t think about…those things.”
“Like I said, it’s fine. I mean, we’re married.”
“Right.”
“And this is normal.”
“Exactly.”
I averted my eyes, avoiding the sight of her gorgeous legs like the plague. “I mean, it would be weird if I didn’t find you attractive.”
“And if I didn’t find you attractive. Which I do,” she added quickly. “By the way, about the other morning…with my hand on you…I just woke up like that. It’s not like I intentionally grabbed you.”
