The Unidentified Redhead (Redhead #1)(31)
Author: Alice Clayton

“Grace, I do believe you are blushing.” She smiled at me, grabbing her keys and leaving for the market through the back door.

I sat up, then leaned back again, and then arranged myself in what felt like a natural pose. As I continued to struggle to find a cute sitting position, I heard,

“Sheridan, do you have to pee?”

“Huh, what?” I stammered, surprised to find he was already in the kitchen and looking at me strangely. He was dressed in his jeans from last night, barefoot and bare-chested. His jeans were hanging low, and he looked like disheveled sex.

“Why are you wiggling about so?” he asked, opening cupboards, looking for something. He picked up the coffee pot and gestured to my mug.

“Forget it,” I answered, flustered. I got up to get him a mug and I found that I was nervous all of a sudden.

Maybe this was it. This was one night stand time. This was when the awkward conversation would start, the promises to get together that would never take place. This was when the tension would begin. Dammit. I cared too much already. As I reached up to grab the mug, I felt his hand on my behind.

“Hurry up with that coffee, you little screamer, and then you can fix your man a proper breakfast,” he said seriously, giving my ass a smack and then pressing his lips to my neck.

I smiled into the cupboard. We were good.

Chapter 14

I made him breakfast and he watched. Eggs, scrambled. Toast, slightly burned, the way he liked it—with marmalade, like Paddington Bear. Juice and coffee.

While I cooked, he snuck kisses to me every time I walked near him. He tried to peek beneath his shirt, which I was currently wearing. I kept him away, although the toast might have been a little more burnt than he would have liked, as I was fighting him off somewhere over by the Mr. Coffee.

I was famished myself, and we ate at the breakfast bar together, albeit on opposite sides. I felt it was necessary to keep two feet of granite between The Brit’s roving hands and me. When he finished, he groaned, patting his full belly and letting out a loud burp.

“Gross.” I grimaced, placing our plates in the sink.

“Get used to it, Sheridan. I am disgusting,” he said, crossing over to meet me by the dishwasher. “Piggy piggy piggy.” He laughed as he pointed at himself.

He was looking devious again, his fingers reaching out to touch my bare legs and migrate north.

“Seriously, Hamilton, I can’t take any more. I need a shower, and I actually have things to do. Not all of us can slack full time,” I scolded, backing away but finding myself in a corner.

Trapped. Damn.

“Are you really telling me you want none of this?” he teased, sticking his tongue out and wiggling it at me like a cheeky schoolboy. My stomach fell out of me and ran out the front door.

“Nice tongue. What are you, thirteen? You’re disgusting.” I laughed in spite of myself. “And yes, I’m telling you exactly that,” I answered, my voice wavering.

I was trying to put on a stern face, but he could tell I didn’t have the guts to back it up. My guts, you see, having just left through the front door.

“I didn’t hear you complaining last night or this morning about this very tongue,” he said mischievously, moving closer. I pulled myself up onto the counter behind me, the only place I could go.

Bad idea.

“What about these?” he asked, holding up his magic hands, waving his fingers at me. “Surely you wouldn’t object to these, would you?”

“Umm … I, hmm … what?” I was having trouble following the conversation.

Tell him not to call you Shirley …

He positioned himself between my legs and nudged them open. I stared at him. He was a vision. I do not have the vocabulary necessary to communicate how devastatingly handsome the man truly is. I had seen him in a suit and tie, with his scruffy hipster uniform complete, even in his own birthday suit—yet there is nothing in the world that was more excruciatingly, painfully, pinch-yourself-to-make-sure-you’re-not-dreaming beautiful than the sight of Jack Hamilton, hair standing on end, shirtless and shoeless, in jeans, between my legs.

My breath caught in my throat as he slid his hands up the outside of my thighs and hooked his thumbs around the band of my panties. I regained a little control.

“No, No, Sweet Nuts. I can’t. I have calls to ret—” I tried to say, his mouth interrupting me with a kiss.

“Mmm hmm,” he responded, his mouth moving down my neck, his hands slowly tugging at my panties and sliding them over my knees.

“And I have a meeting this afternoon with my contractor … ” I tried again, noticing that my panties were now on the floor.

“Mmm hmm. Contractor. Got it,” he whispered, locking eyes with me as he spread my legs further. He pulled me to the edge of the counter and quite deliberately bent one leg and hooked it around his waist, giving him better access to me. His fingers touched me and I struggled to keep my focus.

“And I also have to … oh, God … I have a project due that I need … oh, wow … a project that I … fuck, that’s good … Oh!” I cried out, abandoning all reason when his fingers slipped amazingly into me.

His thumb pressed against me. It was instant. I held onto his shoulders as I almost immediately climaxed and then began another. I had always been lucky enough to be a multiples kind of gal, but never like this. He kept me close, watching my face as I came again and again in rapid succession. His eyes burned into me, that sexy half-grin giving way to a furrowed brow as he worked harder to keep me where I needed to be.

“Right here, Grace. Keep your eyes on me.” He groaned. I came once more, our eyes locked as I screamed his name.

I slumped over onto him, wrapping my arms around his neck and collapsing fully.

“You’re too good to me,” I whispered in his ear, kissing his neck.

“I think that goes both ways, Nuts Girl.” I giggled at my nickname. “Why don’t we finish this in the shower, George.” I smiled, hooking my fingers through the waistband on his jeans, giving him a firm squeeze through the fabric and pulling him toward the stairs. He snarled and chased me into the living room. I started up the stairs before him, giving him a peek at my nakedness beneath his shirt.

“Grab my panties, will you? I don’t think we should push Holly any further than we already have,” I fired back over my shoulder on my way upstairs. “Meet you in the shower.”

I couldn’t wait to have my Brit naked and wet.