The Redhead Revealed (Redhead #2)(59)
Author: Alice Clayton

“Mmm, I can’t wait to see you either. I’m just getting ready to run through the shower.”

“Hmm, I could use a shower too. Sure you don’t want to wait for me?”

Jesus Lord, that was tempting. I quickly sniffed my armpit. “Um, no, I’m going to go ahead, but there will be fresh, clean towels for you when you get home.” I smiled as I thought of him naked in my shower. Where he belonged.

“Okay, I’ll see you soon. And Grace?”

“Uh-huh?” I said, struggling to take off my shoes and stay upright at the same time. I was heading straight for that shower.

“I’m hungry,” he growled, then hung up before I could say anything else.

Once again, Jack Hamilton had made me lose all power of speech.

***

Twenty minutes later I stood in the bathroom with wet hair and a bloody armpit. What was it about razors and my pits that seemed to argue every time? I dabbed Neosporin on it, contemplating whether I had time to dry my hair or not when I caught a look at the clock in the bedroom. Nope, wet hair it is. I ran a comb through it and made sure to put on some lotion. Which burned the shit out of my freshly shaved legs. I hobbled into the bedroom, looking for something to put on. I threw on the shirt I’d slept in last night, my white polo, while I decided what to wear.

I went into the kitchen to pour myself a glass of wine to steady my nerves. As I poured, I noticed I hadn’t lit the candles on the table yet, so I quickly did so. I wanted everything to be perfect. As I glanced around the kitchen and dining room, everything seemed to be in place.

Table set? Check.

Salad made? Check.

Potatoes prepped? Check.

What was I forgetting?

Fucking put some clothes on, Grace.

Right!

I threw the dishtowel back toward the counter and started for the bedroom. However, I miscalculated, and the dishtowel fell short—right on top of one of the candles. With a whoosh, it ignited. I squealed and turned to run to the sink for some water when I tripped over a footstool that I’d not yet found a home for and went down with a splat.

“Ooof!” I grunted as all my breath left me. I was struggling to stand when I saw a blur run past me and dump a bottle of water on the dining room table. As I lay on the floor in my white polo, legs twisted and naked bum showing, I parted my hair so I could see.

There stood Sweet Nuts, dumping the rest of his bottle of water on the now smoking dishtowel and appraising the situation. He turned to look down at me, dropping his duffel on the floor.

He cocked his head and smiled curiously. “What the hell are you doing on the floor when your house is on fire, Crazy?”

“Oh, shut it, Hamilton,” I sighed, banging my head against the tile floor. Ouch.

“You know I can see your business, right?” he asked, bending down to offer me a hand.

“I’m aware of that. Maybe this is the homecoming I had planned,” I said, mortified.

He swiftly pulled me to my feet and slapped me on the bum.

“That’s how to keep your lady: barefoot and half-naked in the kitchen.” He laughed.

“Ass,” I said, wrapping my arms around him. He smelled like airport and gorgeous.

We hugged for a moment, swaying gently in the kitchen while the scent of wet, burnt cotton bloomed around us.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” I whispered into his chest.

“Me too. Otherwise it would have gotten a little crispy in the kitchen.” He kissed the top of my head.

I looked up at him, rolling my eyes. “Hey, I need a real kiss, please,” I pouted, sticking out my lower lip.

“Oh, I haven’t begun to get to the real kissing yet,” he said softly, bringing my face closer to his and brushing his lips against mine. I sighed into his mouth and his hands tightened on my waist. As things became more intense, I heard a knock at the door.

“Dammit, if that’s a carload of Joshua-seeking women, I’m not here.” He groaned, then lifted his eyebrow as I flashed him my naked buns on the way to the door. “Don’t you think you should put some clothes on before you open the door?” he asked.

“Hmm, you could be right. If it’s the Christmas tree man, tell him I’ll be right there. If it’s a carload of women, you’re on your own, dear.” I laughed and skipped off to the bedroom to find some shorts.

Turns out it was the Christmas tree man. As I supervised the placement of the tree, I encouraged Jack to go take his shower and get comfortable. I was going to do all I could do to get him in the holiday spirit. Including a little stocking stuffer…

Once the tree was in the corner, beautiful and smelling piney, I tipped the guy and closed the door. With a smile on my face, I headed to the bedroom. I’d heard the shower turn off moments before, so I was hoping to catch him before he had a chance to cover up that fantastic body. I crept into the bedroom, and there he was. Sprawled out on the bed in his boxers. Hair standing on end, legs akimbo.

Sound asleep.

I smiled as I watched him, his chest rising and falling with his breathing. He looked so sweet, so vulnerable. I sank down on the bed next to him, and he rolled over toward me in his slumber. His arms reached out and he mumbled, “Tits, please…”

I sighed and slipped into his arms. Snuggled in, with his ever-present hands on my ever-constant boobies, I let my Brit sleep. I loved him, you see…

***

I must have fallen asleep as well because when I opened my eyes, it was full dark. I forgot where I was for a second, and my body tensed as I became aware of someone in the bed with me. As I struggled to sit up I heard, “Shhh, sweet girl. It’s me.”

I felt his warm breath in my ear, and I remembered where I was—and who was with me. I sank back into his arms, his lips still near my ear.

“Mmm,” I moaned, then sighed as I stretched out against him. My legs tangled with his, and I clutched his hands against my br**sts. His mouth kissed my neck and slowly worked down toward my shoulder. He nudged my shirt down a little so he could kiss my shoulder, and I felt my toes curl.

“That feels nice.” I sighed again with contentment, my tummy flipping at his touch.

“That’s good to know,” he whispered in my ear, his tongue darting out to lick my neck.

“Jesus, that feels nice too.” I chuckled and arched my back, pressing my br**sts into his hands in a very pronounced way. His fingers swept across me, unbuttoning my shirt slowly. He moaned in my ever-loving ear as his hands, warm and soothing, touched my bare skin. As I arched again, I pressed my bottom into him, and he hissed as I made contact with a very specific part of him.