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Real Men: Rugged Rebels: Watch and Learn / Under His Skin / Her Perfect Hero. Jeanie LondonЧитать онлайн книгу.

Real Men: Rugged Rebels: Watch and Learn / Under His Skin / Her Perfect Hero - Jeanie  London


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the black mesh hose.

      He swallowed a groan.

      She smiled up at him. “You could certainly seat a large family around this table.”

      “Funny you should say that,” he said. “My parents and younger sister are coming to Tampa next week. They’re visiting colleges. I have an aunt and an uncle who live nearby, and a young cousin. I thought I’d have them all come here for a little party since the kitchen is operational. It’ll give my family a chance to see what I’m working on.”

      “That’s nice.” She gestured to the long empty wall behind the table. “I’ll do my best to have the mural done before then.”

      “I wasn’t worried about that,” he said. “The house will still be a long way from being finished. Actually, I was wondering if you’d like to join us?”

      Her eyes widened.

      “It’ll be casual,” he assured her. “I’ll have food and a cake delivered. Since the part for your air conditioner hasn’t arrived, consider it a small thank-you to show my appreciation for all that you’ve done.”

      Gemma pushed to her feet. “Fixing my air conditioner will be plenty of thanks.” His disappointment must have been evident because she added, “But … I’ll think about it and let you know. I should be going.”

      He followed her to the front door and out onto the covered entryway, stricken by the overwhelming urge to drag her into his arms. “Gemma.”

      She turned and looked up at him, her eyes questioning.

      Chev stepped toward her and picked up a lock of her hair. “I’ve missed you at the window.”

      Her throat worked and her chest rose and fell rapidly. “I … it felt awkward since we’ve gotten to know each other.”

      “If I’d known that,” he said with a smile, “I would’ve stayed on this side of my property line.”

      That made her smile and her tension was replaced with that matter-of-fact sexuality that made him wild for her. “Are you saying you don’t want to be friends?”

      He stepped closer and lowered his mouth to her ear. “I prefer friends with benefits.”

      A small sound of wanting came from her throat, but she pulled away. “Like I said, I prefer to keep things at a distance.”

      “But it’s more fun up close.” He slowly untied the belt of her coat, revealing a red satin bustier and black pleated short skirt. He groaned and his cock stiffened painfully as he slid his hands inside to caress her waist with his thumbs. “Gemma, don’t you feel this … electricity between us?”

      She bit her lip and nodded.

      “Then why—”

      “I can’t,” she cut in, looking away.

      “But you want to.”

      “It wouldn’t help,” she said, sounding resigned to whatever demons were plaguing her.

      He put his hand under her chin and forced her to look at him. “I want to get next to you, Gemma. Let me.”

      Her sigh caught in the moist air between them. Raw longing emanated from her smoky green eyes. She was wavering. He lowered his mouth to hers and captured a moan.

      A car horn blasted into the air, suspending the moment. A white Lexus sat in Gemma’s driveway. A person alighted, frowning in their direction.

      “Oh, dear God,” Gemma murmured. “Mother.”

       12

      AT THE SIGHT of her mother standing in her driveway next door, Gemma’s knees turned to elastic. Her lips were still warm from Chev’s, his hand still on her waist. And even at this distance, she could feel her mother’s searing disapproval.

      “I have to go,” she said, pulling away, fumbling with her belt.

      “But—”

      “I’ll talk to you later.”

      Without looking back, Gemma walked stiffly toward her mother. Phyllipa Jacobs stood holding a casserole caddy and leaning against her car as if she might need it to support her weight. Gemma waved in an attempt to diffuse the openmouthed expression on her mother’s face.

      “Mother … what a surprise.” She reached forward for an embrace, but her mother remained immobile.

      “Gemma, who is that man? Were you … kissing him?”

      Gemma caught her mother’s arm and guided her toward the front door. “His name is Chev, and he’s fixing up the house next door. I’m … helping him.”

      Her mother allowed herself to be hauled up the stairs and onto the porch. “Helping him do what?”

      “Choose architectural details for the renovation.”

      “I came to visit because I’m worried about you, and I find you—” she lowered her voice to a harsh whisper “—in the arms of a strange man?”

      “We were just talking, Mother.” Gemma worked the key in the lock furiously and pushed open the door.

      “What on earth happened to your yard?”

      “There’s a rogue peacock in the neighborhood.”

      “A rogue … what? Gemma, have you been drinking?”

      She sighed. “No, Mother.” But she sure could use a tall one right about now.

      After they entered the house, Gemma flipped on lights strategically, once again wishing she’d taken the time to throw out all the items that Jason had said he didn’t want. Now they mocked her, proof of her reluctance to let him go long after he’d made it clear he wanted nothing from her.

      “It’s awfully stuffy in here,” Phyllipa remarked.

      “The air conditioner is on the blink.”

      “You should call someone.”

      Gemma tamped down the anger that flared in her chest at her mother’s patronizing tone. “I have. The parts haven’t arrived.” She inhaled for strength and gestured to the casserole. “What did you bring?”

      “Lasagna.”

      “Oh, nice. Can you stay and eat with me?”

      Phyllipa nodded, then frowned at Gemma’s coat suspiciously. “It’s ninety degrees outside. Why on earth are you wearing a coat, dear?”

      Gemma forced a shrug. “The weatherman predicted rain.”

      Phyllipa squinted. “What kind of panty hose are you wearing?”

      “Uh, they’re part of my work uniform.”

      “Doing what?”

      “I’ll explain over dinner,” Gemma said, turning toward the stairs. “Let me change first.” She bounded up the stairs as fast as the high heels would allow, then closed her bedroom door and exhaled. Her mother’s sense of timing hadn’t improved.

      With her skin still tingling from being caught in a compromising position, she crossed to the picture window and glanced down. Chev was in the yard, hosing off the newly tiled walkway and watering large trees still in tubs, waiting to be planted. His work shirt gaped open and she shivered, remembering the smooth firmness of his skin as he pulled her body close to his. She reached out and touched her finger against the warm pane of glass, imagining the heat they could generate.

      At that moment he glanced up and saw her. He wet his lips and stared blatantly, expectantly. The urge to expose herself to him seized her. Moving automatically, she untied her belt and allowed the thin coat to fall to the floor.

      Chev’s hand slipped and water surged from the hose he held. Her


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