Taste (Take It Off #9)(15)
Author: Cambria Hebert

He snatched my hand and pulled me easily into the bedroom.

“Let me see.” He motioned for me to take off my shirt.

I sputtered and then laughed. “You can’t actually think I’m just going to strip off my shirt.”

“Why the hell not?” he demanded.

“Because it’s the only thing I’m wearing?” I replied like it should have been obvious.

“Now is not the time to try and seduce me, Elle,” he deadpanned. “I need to see how badly you’re burned.”

“I’m not trying to seduce you!” I said, incredulous.

“Good,” he countered. “Then it won’t matter if I take a look.”

Before I could tell him what a freaking idiot he was, his hand snaked out and grabbed the hem of the shirt and lifted.

I gasped and tried to jump back. It didn’t work out to well because he had a hold of my shirt. “Hold still,” he scolded. “The last thing you need is any more injuries,” he muttered and continued to yank up the fabric.

Total embarrassment washed over me, and I quickly folded my arms over my breasts so he couldn’t lift the fabric high enough to see them.

Cool air washed over my hips and stomach as Spence reached up and slid his hat around so that he was wearing it backward and was able to get a better look at my body.

God, he looked sexy in that hat.

And from this close, I could see the scruff growing in on his jaw area. It was dark blond too and made him look totally delicious.

Holding up my shirt with one hand, he reached out with the other, gliding his fingers across my stomach, just below my ribcage. “Here?” he whispered, staring at the area.

I nodded, not bothering to glance down. The skin stung lightly as he caressed it. I didn’t care. Frankly, it could hurt like hell and I still would have let him touch it. Desire suffused my limbs, making them heavy. I felt goose bumps break out over my bare skin, and maybe I should have been embarrassed at my reaction because really there wasn’t anything sexual to what he was doing, but my body sure as hell acted like there was.

He frowned a little when my muscled trembled beneath him, and he glanced up. “Does it hurt?”

I shook my head, unable to speak.

“It’s just red. No blisters,” he answered, not looking back down at the “burn,” but not pulling his fingers away either. Spencer watched me as he dragged the tops of his knuckles down the curve of my waist and moved across my navel.

“You burned anywhere else?” he rumbled in a low, throaty tone.

Man, I wish I was. I wished I could point out a thousand injuries just to give him a reason to not lift his hand.

“No,” I whispered.

He glided his hand over my hip and curved his palm around the dip in my waist, tugging me just a little bit closer. Just one step… that’s all I needed to take to bring my bare waist up against his body.

I tilted my head back when he bent, lowering his face toward mine. I anticipated his kiss, craved it… Part of me thought I might need it.

He stopped just inches away, his heavy-lidded eyes spearing mine. “Nice drawers,” he whispered.

It took me a second to realize what he said. I was too far under his spell.

But when his lips turned up in an ornery smirk, his words penetrated my lust-laden brain. I gasped and leaped back, pulling my shirt from his hand and yanking it down over my “drawers.”

“Oh my God!” I burst out. “You are such a pig!”

He laughed. “What? I was paying you a compliment.”

I groaned, still yanking at the hem of my shirt. “You’re making fun of me!” I challenged.

He laid a hand over his heart and looked at me solemnly. “I do swear no one wears polka dots like you do.”

I. Was. Going. To. Die.

Spencer was saved from murder when Jack’s cry carried across the hall. The bottom fell out of my stomach, and I raced across the hall and into his darkened room. My baby was sitting up in his crib, rubbing his eyes and fussing.

“Hey there, little man,” I said gently. “What’s the matter?”

He lifted his arms to me and I picked him up. Immediately, he snuggled against my chest, laying his head on my shoulder. I rocked on my feet, holding him close and letting my heart rate return to normal. His outcry scared me more than it should have, but in just a day, I’d become the most paranoid person I’d ever known.

I swayed back and forth, rubbing his back as he slipped back into sleep. I didn’t put him down right away. I learned that the hard way. I had to wait until he was fully asleep before laying him back down; otherwise, he would just wake right back up again.

As I swayed, I spun around, humming softly. My movements were momentarily paused when I saw Spencer in the doorway, watching me.

Rather than say anything, I turned back around and continued rocking until I was certain he was asleep.

After Jack was back in his crib, I left the room. Spencer was no longer in the doorway. He was sitting on the end of my bed when I stepped back into my room. All the excitement and desire I felt at his touch just moments ago was dissolved into weariness.

“You look exhausted,” he said quietly.

“I’m okay,” I replied as I rummaged around in my dresser for some pajamas that were appropriate to wear (aka: ones with pants). Another thought of a warm shower taunted me.

I glanced at Spencer. “Do you need to leave yet?”

“You inviting me to spend the night?” he asked, wagging his eyebrows.

I rolled my eyes. “No.”

“Too bad.” He sighed.

“Never mind,” I said, giggling at his antics.

He appeared behind me, soundless, once again crowding my personal space. “What do you need, Elle?” he asked softly.

You. I need you.

Whoa. Where did that come from?

I shook my head to clear away the thought. “I’d really like to take a shower, but I don’t want to leave Jack by himself.”

“I’ll stay,” he said. I barely heard him as air expanded his chest and it brushed against me. “Jack will be fine.”

“I’ll hurry,” I said, taking my clothes and rushing away.

He caught my elbow and pulled me around. “Take your time. I’m not going anywhere.”

In the bathroom, I sagged against the closed door.

I knew Spencer only meant he would stay until I was done in the bathroom, but I couldn’t help but wish he’d meant it a different way.

8

Warm water poured over my skin, soothing some of the worst of my aches. I stood under the pressure for the first few minutes, just standing there, blinking the water from my eyes and watching it swirl around my toes. It was nice to have a few quiet minutes to myself, a few moments when I didn’t have to pretend everything was okay or lie about what was really going on. Just knowing Spencer was out there making sure everything was safe for a little while was such a relief.