Page 52 of Nanny for the Bodyguard
As I look down into Easton's eyes, I get lost in those baby blues. From this close, I can see the plentiful array of freckles that graces his nose.
They're subtle from far away, but I amnotfar away from him right now.
His auburn hair catches the light that comes in from his office window, and his warm tan skin looks smooth to the touch. I'm looking at his lips before I can stop myself, wondering what it might feel like if that five o’clock shadow rubbed against my skin again.
“Do you need to get back to work?” My voice sounds shaky, a tremble ringing through with each word.
“Not right away.” Easton smirks. It’s so small, though, so I could be wrong. I could be seeing things.
My eyes roam over his face, and it hits me that he’s wearing glasses.
“When did you start wearing glasses?”
Easton chuckles. “The very moment I became old.”
I can't help but laugh back.
“They're only for reading, but that applies to when I'm using the computer.”
He takes them off, setting them on his desk. I see the little indents on the side of his nose, and before I can stop myself, I reach for them, smoothing my thumb across his skin.
What are you doing?! Pull up, Hazel. Pull up!
But we've done this dance too many times, and I don't know if I want to pull back anymore.
I've felt him against my skin. I've felt him in between my legs on that bed when we were separated by jeans.
And I think I want more. IknowI want more from him than this.
It’s stupid. I have no way of knowing where this is going, but I’m finding it harder and harder to care.
“Hazel…” Easton sounds pained, and then his hands are coming up my sides.
He squeezes me, urging me down just as I begin to sit on his lap. When I get there, everything feels so right, and I can make out the sensation of something hard pressing between us.
My thighs clench, arousal pooling. One of Easton’s hands leaves my waist, only to reappear on my cheek.
I can’t look away from him, and even though he’s pulling me toward him, he doesn’t have to. I’m well on my way to kissing Easton.
Our lips meet, and it’s like an electric shock. Every time we come together like this, it’s as if a storm has rolled in overhead.
It’s all thunder and lightning, but it’s also the calm patter of rain on the roof. The feeling of being safe and sound amid chaos.
“Hazel,” Easton murmurs against my lips, and I circle my hips, seeking more. “Are you sure?—”
“Shh.” I press more kisses to him. I’m not looking for logic right now.
I’ve been a bundle of raw nerves for too long, feeling fragile and broken after the attack. I just want to have something that’s for me.
Something special.
Easton doesn’t resist as I sweep my tongue across the seam of his lips, seeking entrance. He hoists me further onto his lap, and I let out a little yelp of surprise.
When we pause to catch our breath, I look up at him with a smile.
“This a nice shirt? Expensive?”
Cocking a brow at me, Easton smirks. “I mean, yes. Why?”
