Page 10 of All I Need (Hearts of the South)
Shit, did he own any interview clothes anymore? His life before the shooting had been heavy on the casual side, and it wasn’t like he’d done a ton of shopping after. For a moment, he considered snapping photos of his closet and sending them to his sister because, hell, she’d always liked to dress him and he trusted her when it came to clothes. Except reaching out would be a waste of time. She’d only ignore him like she had for months.
The doorbell pulled him from his musings. His gaze tracked to the time at the top of his phone screen. A little before seven. That had to be Savannah. He shoved the phone in his back pocket and went to the door.
Sure enough, she awaited once he swung the door open. Slim jeans hugged her curves beneath a gray T-shirtsomethingthat molded her hips but breezed over the rest of her torso. The thin material clung to the line of her breasts, the rounded neckline revealing a hint of cleavage. Effortlessly casual as ever, but man, she heated him up fast. “Hey.”
“Hey, yourself.” She held aloft a bright six-pack carton. “The local grocery had a special on microbrews. Thought we might add that beer we keep talking about to our pizza-and-a-movie non-date.”
“Sounds like an excellent idea.” He stepped back and motioned her in. He caught a whiff of a flirty, feminine scent that popped off images in his brain of nuzzling between her generous breasts. “I haven’t ordered pizza yet. Maybe we should stick those in the fridge. What do you like on top?”
She graced him with a wide smile. “That’s an intriguing question, but I assume you mean on the pizza?”
“Yeah.” Although now all the intriguing possibilities pinged through his mind as well—Savannah above him, riding him, taking him deep on each stroke. He let out a shaky laugh and extended a hand. “Let me get those.”
She passed over the carton, and he curled his fingers about hers a moment before using their shared hold on the cardboard to draw her to him. Her eyes on him, that smile still curving her full mouth, she stepped into his space and lifted her face to his. He brushed his lips across hers, savoring the pliable feel of her mouth under his.
She rested a hand on his chest. “For the record, I like lots of things on top.”
He pulled away, enjoying the mirth that sparkled in her brown eyes. “I can’t wait to find out.”
“On pizza too.” She winked and released the beers to him. “Anything is fine, really, except mushrooms and anchovies.”
“We are in agreement on that.” He carried the six-pack through to the small kitchen and stowed it in the fridge. “You know anything about interviews?”
“I know sitting in on interview panels is the pits.” She leaned against the kitchen doorway. His gaze lingered over the curve of her hip. “Did you get a hit on one of the resumes you submitted?”
“The jail administrator’s position. They want me to come in tomorrow. I got the email before you arrived.” He rubbed at his jaw. “Hell, Savannah, I don’t even know if I have the right clothes.”
“Well, maybe we should figure that out.” Her husky laugh shimmered over him. “Show me to your closet.”
In his bedroom, he rested a forearm against the open closet door while she surveyed his meager wardrobe. He’d lived the last few months in loose athletic pants, only recently working his way back up to jeans.
“These still have the tags on them.” She held up a pair of gray dress slacks from the farthest corner of the closet.
“Christmas present from my mom.” A sheepish grin tugged at his mouth. “Forgot I had them.”
“She has good taste.” She flicked the price tag and hung the pants closer to the front.
“I could wear the red polo with those, right?”
Mouth open, she stared at him. “No.”
“Red and gray don’t go together?” He lifted a hand in confusion.
“You don’t wear a casual polo with those pants. Trust me.” She shook her head and rifled through his shirts. “Your mother didn’t teach you that?”
“She probably tried.”
She glanced over her shoulder at him, amusement glinting in her eyes. “Are you telling me you were a difficult child?”
“I was hardheaded.” He straightened and rubbed a hand over his thigh. Difficult probably didn’t begin to cover it. He still didn’t get why his mama adored him the way she did. He couldn’t have been easy to raise.
“I can’t imagine.” With the wry rejoinder, she turned to face him, a white cotton buttondown in hand. Tags dangled from it as well. “This should work.”
She held the shirt up to his chest and smoothed it across his shoulders with one hand. The touch sparked along his nerve endings, and he sucked in a breath. Hell, she was barely touching him, but the soft contact made him hot and hungry for her. She stilled and lifted her eyes to his. The amusement faded from the brown depths, replaced with a sudden desire that kept him from catching his breath.
Wordlessly, she leaned in and meshed their mouths in a kiss completely unlike the simple caress they’d shared earlier. She opened her lips beneath his, the tip of her tongue darting across his bottom lip in a carnal invitation. Tangling a hand in her hair, he held her mouth under his to better explore the sweet secrets within. Curves pressed along his frame, breasts to his chest, hips cradling his. Tongues slid together, heat flushing his neck and chest, zinging straight down his spine to his balls.
She tasted good, all mint and sex, that flirty scent enveloping him as surely as her mouth took him. His erection grew, pushing against his zipper, and she tilted her hips closer on a sultry moan. He dropped his free hand to cup one lush cheek of her ass and tugged her nearer.
