Page 61 of That Friendzone Feeling
Heputs the knife down, turns, and folds his arms across his chest, making his biceps bulge and the sleeves of his shirt pull tight around them.
Hetips his head to one side, a glint in his eyes. “Ithought you didn’t want to talk about that anymore.”
Andthat’s how perfect he is.Hecan even make cute wisecracks about me turning him down.
ButIcan’t rise to it.Ican’t joke about how muchIwant him to get me out of it, sit me on the counter, and repeat what he did the other night but this time with his fingers actually on my flesh.Fleshthat’s now tingling more thanIwant it to.Whichis not at all.
“Myzipper’s stuck.I’vetried everything.”Iturn around and demonstrate howIcan only touch it with the fingertips of each hand. “I’vetried a hanger, but yours are all designery ones that won’t fit through the hole.AndIcan’t pull it off over my head because my shoulders are wider than my waist.”
Iturn back to face him, my palms raised in defeat.
Abroad smile spreads across his face. “Ibet the attempts were a sight to behold.Likea stranded seal with its flippers flailing and getting nowhere.”Heflaps his hands in front of him in caseIdidn’t get the gist.
“Yes.Somethinglike that.”
“OfcourseI’llhelp.”Heturns on the faucet and rinses his hands. “RememberhowIextracted you from that chipmunk costume when the fur got tangled in the zipper?”
“Oh,God.”Islap the counter at the memory of the hideous scenario at the end of a drunken night of college fundraising. “I’dcompletely forgotten about that.”
Hedries his hands on a tea towel. “Ithought you were going to pass out.”
“Itwas so hot in there.Evenwith the head off.”
Mybelly flutters as he strolls slowly around the island toward me.Theanticipation of him touching even just my clothing is thrilling.
“Iended up having to trim some of the fur away before it would budge,” he says.
“Thankfullyno fur involved this time.Justsome extremely expensiveItalianfabric.So, if you could manage this one without the trimming,I’dbe very grateful.”
“Okay.”Hecups his hands over his mouth, looks at me over the top, and breathes a couple of long, hot breaths into them.Notbreaking eye contact, he rubs his palms together to warm them further.
Oh, for the love ofGod.Ifhe’s trying to get me to fold, he’s doing a damn good job.HowamIsupposed to hold firm under these conditions?Justthe thought of those warm hands on my body, anywhere on my body, makes my head spin.
Hewiggles his fully prepared fingers and quirks his eyebrows. “Ready?”
Thedampness in my underwear would suggestI’mready for a lot more than an unzipping. “Yes.”
“You’regoing to have to turn around then,” he says. “Ibelieve the zipper is on the other side of you.”
Shit, yes.Apparently, the thought of those magical fingers had me rooted to the spot.
Iturn my back to him, fully vulnerable.Ifhe were to make a move right now,IdoubtI’dhave the willpower to resist.
Iscoop my hair to one side and over my shoulder to get it out of his way.
Hesteps up so close the heat radiating from him warms my back and spreads throughout my body as my heart beats harder.
Thisis the perfect atmosphere for seduction—low lighting, soft music, and a hot manIadore right behind me.
“Youmissed a few strands,” he says softly, dragging a finger way slower than is necessary across my neck to gather them up.Tingleserupt in the wake of his touch and rain down my spine.
Hepushes the errant hair over my shoulder and into my hand with the rest of it, his finger brushing the sensitive area where my index and middle fingers meet.Mypulse throbs at the contact.
Facingaway from him makes everything extra thrilling.Ihave no idea where his touch will land next.Everynerve ending in my body is on high alert, each one of them hoping they’ll be the next lucky one.
“Now, let’s take a look.”Hisbreath brushes the back of my neck, sparking goosebumps he must be able to see.
Heslips a finger—it feels more like two—inside the top of my dress.Iclose my eyes and drop my head forward,trying to regain control of my heart that’s thudding so hard my body must be rocking in time with it.
