Page 4 of A Million Times, Yes
“You ...” She put her empty hand on my chest. “You ...” she repeated, but in an entirely different, lighter voice. “I don’t even know your name.”
“I’m Jordan.”
I didn’t want to set her down. I liked how she felt in my arms and against my chest, and how there was something so achingly sexy about her sweat mixing with mine.
Her hand lifted to my shoulder. “Maya.”
“Maya.” I wanted to see how the letters would feel against my tongue. If they’d rumble through my throat the same way they were tingling through my dick.
“Jordan, if that biker hit me, I could have died.” She focused on my left eye and then my right, her chest heaving with breath. “I don’t know how to thank you.”
I could think of plenty of ways, starting with her lips, which looked even more beautiful this close. I wanted to feel them wrapped around my tip, sucking the end of me like a fucking vacuum.
“You can say yes.”
Her brows rose. “To what?”
“A next time.”
“What does that mean, exactly?”
“That this won’t be the one and only time I talk to you.”
She laughed and wiggled out of my arms.
Her feet didn’t land on the ground on their own; they landed because I set her down.
“You save my life and ask me out and then expect me to say yes.” She crossed her arms. “I just want to make sure I understand you correctly.”
I shifted my weight, looking down at this petite spitfire who was more gorgeous the longer I stared at her. “A date would be asking you to shower and put on more clothes and have dinner and wine. I’m not asking for that at all. I prefer you just like this and”—I nodded toward her navel—“wearing that.”
“I don’t drink wine.” She smiled.
“And I don’t date.”
I just fucked.
But I didn’t need to get into that.
“Sounds like I’m not understanding you at all, then,” she said. “You just want to ... talk?”
“How about a little more than a ‘good morning’ during tomorrow’s run? I’d say I earned that after playing hero.” I dragged my teeth over my bottom lip at the thought of that conversation.
“That’s it?”
I nodded.
She glanced toward the sidewalk ahead, our normal path, where we would be headed to finish our run. “I think I can probably do that.” A smirk joined her lips.
“I promise: After, I won’t ask you out for wine.”
“Good, because I won’t agree to any dates.”
That mouth.
I was enjoying it more by the second.
I reached my hand toward hers. “You’ve got yourself a deal, Maya.”
