Page 48 of That Conflicted Feeling
Myeyes are still lingering at hot ass height when she turns around.It’simpossible for her to have not noticed.
“Youknow whatIthink?” she asks, shoving one arm in the dark green utility jacket.
“Ithink you think a lot of things.AndIthink you’re about to tell me some of them.Extremelyclearly.”
“Ithink it would make a big difference if you got to know everyone.”Herother arm flaps around behind her, fishing for the other sleeve. “Ithink there might be a teeny-tiny window in that cold corporate heart of yours.”Shenarrows her eyes at me in thought. “Andif you get to know them, that window might open a tiny crack.Andmaybe you’ll understand.Andyou just might change your mind.”
Nowthat is a good idea.Butnot for the reasons she thinks.Gettingto know the locals, particularly those with voting powers on the council, is exactly whatIneed to do.Findout what makes them tick.AndPolly’sactually offering to help with that?Jackpot.
Shecontinues to flail around for the flapping jacket.
“Here, let me help.”Istep in close, so closeIcan see the morning sunlight catch her blonde lashes under the peak of her cap.Pollystills, her eyes locked on mine.
Myforearm brushes her waist asIreach around her.Despitethe multiple layers of clothing between us, a thrill rushes through me that would be more in line with a flesh-on-flesh encounter.
Sheturns away, looking over her shoulder to watch me catch hold of her jacket.Theaction reveals a smooth expanse of neck, that my other hand itches to reach up and stroke.Myhead instinctively tips to the side, my lips wanting to follow that imaginary stroke with imaginary kisses.Christ, what would thatactuallyfeel like?
Silently,Pollypushes her hand into the errant sleeve and watches its path asIslide it up her arm and ease it over her bare skin.
Ican’t help but wonder what it would be like to do the exact opposite.Toslip her clothesoff, to reveal her bare shoulder.
Mydick is sure it knows exactly what it would be like and is generally pretty happy with the idea.
Pollyslowly turns her head back and lazily lifts her sun-kissed lashes until the blue eyes beneath them meet mine.
Thebib of her overalls rises and falls more deeply than before.AndIswear it has a slight tremble.
“It’stheSpringFairtomorrow,” she says quietly. “Everyonewill be there.”
I’mstill holding her jacket collar and can’t bring myself to let go.Can’tbring myself to lose the physical connection to her.
“Icould take you around,” she continues, as if we’re not really standing inches apart, our warm, quickening breath on each other’s faces. “Youcould meet people.Real, actual people, who’d be affected by your store.Andtalk to them.”
Shedrops her head, breaking eye contact, leaving me looking down on the pink peak of her cap and feeling like something’s missing.
Shemakes to move away.But, half a step back, she hits the side of the tractor and jolts in surprise, like she’d forgotten it was so close behind her.Thenshe leans back and rests against it, as if instantly accepting she’s unable to get any farther away.
Whyis she having such an effect on me?WhyamIso entranced by the pink rim of a baseball cap and so desperate to tip up the face under it soIcan lose myself in those fiery eyes again?
I’veblocked off this whole part of me for years.Notone of the womenGeorgehas deemed unsuitable for me has even scratched the surface, never mind broken through.Sohow hasPollychipped away at that outer shell so quickly thatI’mthinking more about how sweet her lips must still be from the donut, than how to get her to understand that aYellowBarnwouldn’t be all bad?
Igrasp the other side of her jacket collar.
Shelifts her head enough for me to see her face but keeps her eyes down. “Whatare you doing?”
“Helpingyou.Yousaid you’d help me and take me to the fair.So,I’mhelping you with your jacket.”
Shelooks from one of my hands to the other. “It’son now,” she says softly.
Inod. “Itis.”
Finally, her lashes lift and her eyes are on me again.Yes, they can have so much spark and spirit and fight, but right now they’re soft and warm and have the same look in them as when she thoughtIwas about to kiss her onWednesdayevening.
“Butyou’re still holding onto it,” she murmurs with a slight smile.
Ican’t let go.Shefascinates me, infuriates me, and turns me on all at the same time.
“Iam”Itell her, my heartbeat picking up the pace and my dick straining to move northward.
