Page 63 of Mr. Fixer Upper
Paige crossed to him and slid her arms around his neck. “I’m just teasing. I’ll show you my place, and you’ll get the joke. It’s just a dumping ground between shoots. We don’t even have a coffee table. My bed is my desk.”
“You’re nervous,” he accused, running his hands down her back to rest on the curves of her hips.
She nodded. “We’ve never not been working. I don’t know how not to work,” she confessed.
He blew out a breath. “I hadn’t thought about that. Consider this though. If we can get along on set with deadlines and drama and bullshit, don’t you think we can enjoy a few days of peace and quiet together?”
She bit her lip. “I want to say yes, but it’s us. We thrive on deadlines and drama and, yes, bullshit.”
He laughed, squeezing her hips.
“Maybe this will help with the nerves.” Gannon kissed her, softly, sweetly, and Paige felt the tension melt from her shoulders.
“How about some wine?” he offered, pulling back and rubbing his thumb over the lips he’d just kissed.
She nodded again. He left her to explore the bedroom and connecting bath and returned to the bedroom moments later with two glasses of red wine.
She accepted the one he offered and sipped.
“I like seeing you off-center,” Gannon admitted with a sly look. “It’s nice to know that you’re human.”
“I’d like to point out the fact that you’re the one the network wanted proof of humanity from. Not me.”
Gannon moved her bag from bed to floor and then took her wine glass from her, setting both glasses on the nightstand.
“Let’s see who’s more human,” he insisted, cupping her face in his hands. This time when his mouth closed over hers, there was nothing gentle or sweet about it. Raw and possessive, his lips bruised and battered hers as his tongue invaded her mouth, stealing her breath.
Grateful to have something to cling to, Paige poured herself into the kiss and gripped Gannon’s t-shirt in white knuckled fists. Here she could hold her own with him, matching fire with fire.
“I’ve thought about taking you here a thousand times,” he murmured against her mouth.
“But we just started—”
He didn’t let her finish. “This started a while ago for me.” His hands slipped under the hem of her raspberry sleeveless shell, drawing it up and over her head. He focused his attention on the front clasp of her capris. Catching up quickly, Paige shoved her hands under Gannon’s t-shirt and yanked it over his head.
“God, you are so gorgeous,” she murmured.
“That’s my line, princess.”
He stripped her and tossed her on the bed. She bounced once before his body covered hers, and they rolled. Paige found herself on top and took advantage, straddling his narrow hips and sliding flesh against flesh. The cords on his neck stood out as Gannon closed hands over her hips and worked her against him.
“I can’t believe I’ve been missing out on this,” Paige murmured, not entirely conscious of the words slipping through her lips.
“We’ve got a lot of time to make up for,” Gannon agreed. He rolled them again, pressing Paige’s back into the mattress. “When you look at me like that…” he shook his head, losing the words.
“Like what?” she was breathless with need.
“Heavy eyes, full lips, like you’re begging me to be inside you. It makes me lose my mind.” As if to prove his point, he levered his hips bringing the swollen head of his cock to her entrance.
She bucked against him. The hand he pressed to her shoulder and then her breast held her in place. “Not yet, honey. Not yet.”
Paige thought he was reaching for a condom, but Gannon slid down her body biting and teasing his way across her stomach to the inside of her hip bone and lower still. He bit her inner thigh, and she gasped.
“Open for me, princess.” His voice was rough, thick.
She forced her legs open, bent at the knee, and quivered when she felt his hot breath tease her. “Gannon.”
“I love hearing my name from your mouth,” he said darkly. “Say it again.”
