Page 24 of Tru Blue
He leaned forward, intent on taking that kiss in case this was all there would ever be.
“Tooman,” Kennedy’s voice chirped, severing his tunnel vision.
They both looked down at the innocent-eyed little princess with the crooked tiara. That was the first time Kennedy had said his name, shaking up his whirling emotions even more.
He scooped his little sister into his arms and glanced at Gemma, who was blinking rapidly, as if she were trying to settle the wild wind they’d stirred, too.
“Yes, princess?” he asked Kennedy.
“Hungy.”
Returning his gaze to Gemma so there was no escaping the desire or the intent in his voice, he said, “Me too, princess. I’m ravenous.”
BREATHING WAS SUPPOSED to come easily and naturally, not hitched and ragged. And thinking? Gemma had always been a fast thinker, but after spending most of the day with Truman and the kids, she’d come into the boutique to get things ready for their arrival, and her thoughts kept scattering, circling back to the voracious look in Truman’s eyes before lunch and the way his hands had lingered on her skin at different points throughout the afternoon. And when he’d tripped over her wearing nothing but a towel? Her entire body heated up with the memory of how aroused they’d both been. She’d never felt this type of all-consuming lust, and it was wreaking havoc with her body and her brain.
She sat down to strap on her gold Mary Janes. She always dressed up for the kids’ parties. Tonight she was dressing up for Truman as much as she was for Kennedy. She’d taken forever deciding which outfit to wear, wanting to look sexy, but not like she was trying too hard. She’d finally settled on wearing one of her favorite costumes—Passion Princess. It was a sexy little number with puffy sleeves adorned with white bows that fit around her upper arms, leaving her shoulders bare. The dress was baby-blue satin with gold trim, an iridescent paisley print, and tiny gems lining the sweetheart neckline. It laced up the back and tied off with a large white bow. The golden overlay skirt hung low in the back, leaving her thigh-high stockings on display in the front. The midthigh-length skirt had the same golden paisley print with white lace trim on the bottom, and a white tulle underskirt gave the outfit a flirtatious bounce.
She pushed the blue satin headband into her hair, drawing the sides away from her face while leaving a few long tendrils hanging free. She pulled on white gloves that covered her finger to elbow and fastened the steel-blue choker with a blue gem that reminded her of Truman’s eyes dangling from the center around her neck. Her stomach was doing somersaults at the prospect of Truman seeing her dressed like this.
Taking a quick look in the mirror, she couldn’t stop smiling. She loved this outfit. It truly was her favorite. It was the right amount of sexy to make it appropriate for an adult and still fairy tale enough to alight all those magical feelings fairy tales were known for. She’d spent so many years dreaming of being someone else and making up stories in her head to escape her lonely, dull life that it made dressing up in costumes even more fun. She lived out all of the fantasies she’d never had a chance to as a little girl, which made coming to work even more enjoyable.
She went into the play area to put all the final preparations into place, setting out the baskets and racks of clothes for Kennedy and the cute little activity gym she’d picked up on the way over for Lincoln.
Her phone vibrated with a text, and Crystal’s face appeared on the screen. It was nearly six o’clock. She was surprised Crystal had waited so long to prod her for details about her day. They’d talked late last night and Gemma had filled her in on her plans to see Truman this morning.
She opened and read the text. Does he have any ink below his belt? Winky and smiley face emoticons had never cut it for Crystal. She was more visual than that. Hence the next thread of images lighting up her phone—a string of tattooed penises.
“Ouch,” Gemma mumbled as she typed her response. I don’t know, but that looks painful, so I hope not. We haven’t even kissed yet. I’m not sure I’ll survive a kiss!
Crystal’s response was immediate. Won’t survive a kiss? Oh, man. I think I might have to crash my car.
