Playing Mr. Perfect (The Bradens at Ridgeport #1)

Pepper

I wake to the feel of Clay’s warm lips moving down my neck. “Morning,” I say sleepily.

“It’s not morning yet.” He nips at my lower lip, and I realize it’s dark outside. “I just couldn’t wait another second to taste you.”

Thrills skitter through me like we didn’t leave a movie early last night to ravenously devour each other. We barely made it into the house before tearing off each other’s clothes and getting frisky with the silk scarf he bought me in Paris. It’s hard to believe that was only a little more than a month ago. I swear time moves in a blur when we’re together. We’ve done so much in the week and a half since I hired Clare, it feels much longer. Clay’s working hard on moving forward with his foundation and practicing with Ben and the other guys, and I watched my first Super Bowl, beat Clay in his video game fair and square, and although I didn’t get the funding for the migraine device, MS Enterprises is still considering funding the hands-free mouse alternative. Life is good , and while I know my work stands on its own, I also know the incredible man who is currently looking at me with emotion that feels a lot like love is the reason behind its wonderfulness.