Chapter 11
Missy
Iam strong. I am independent. I am fearless. I am attracted to a man covered in baby spit up, I think. Oh my goodness.
I only had a few seconds to bask in my accomplishment, to think about what a great partner Blair would be for me, and to revel in how good it felt to be in his arms before Sophia lost her lunch all over him and we were back to reality.
I grabbed my extra-large pack of baby wipes and took my daughter into my arms. I made quick work of cleaning up her face while Blair did the best he could with his shirt. It was a losing battle.
“I’m so sorry about that. She doesn’t usually spit up.”
His face softened.
“It’s okay. Little one is outside of her usual routine and being bounced around in my truck. I wouldn’t mind grabbing a clean shirt, though. Do you mind if we stop at my house before we go to fix your SUV? It isn’t far from here.”
“Of course.” With everything put away and Sophia back in her seat, I got into the driver’s seat and followed Blair’s instructions.
We pulled up in front of a small, older-style house, and I pulled into the gravel driveway.
The lawn in the front was nicely kept, the window trim was freshly painted, and there was a welcome mat at the front door.
“Do you live here by yourself?” I asked as I reached for my seat belt.
“Yep, just me. I bought it just before the real estate prices went through the roof. It was in rough shape when I bought it, but I have been slowly fixing it up.”
I was impressed and couldn’t wait to look around.
I peeked over my shoulder into the back seat and saw my daughter sleeping peacefully.
Great. I had to either sit in the truck until she woke up or bring her in the house and risk waking her.
I was sick of sitting in the truck after the drive, and the day was far from over, so I decided to risk it.
I threw my purse and diaper bag over my shoulder, carefully unbuckled her car seat straps, and tiptoed toward the front door.
He opened his front door, and I followed him in.
I didn’t even take the time to look around; I threw a blanket out on the floor and laid Sophia down.
I held my breath as I slowly pulled my arms out from underneath her.
She took in one deep breath but didn’t open her eyes.
Thank goodness for small things. I stood up and looked around for Blair.
I saw a light on down the hall and followed it.
“I’m sorry again about your shirt,” I told him.
He gave me a half smile. “I told you it’s fine. I do have a favor to ask, though.”
“Name it.”
“With only one good arm, changing my T-shirt is harder than I thought. Do you mind helping me out?”
“Of course.” I trailed him as he walked into his bedroom, grabbed a T-shirt from a dresser drawer, and turned to face me.
He sat on the corner of his bed, and I moved to stand in front of him. I was close enough that I could feel the heat from his chest and smell the subtle citrus scent of his soap.
My heart started to beat harder as I reached for the hem of his shirt.
He inhaled sharply as my hand grazed his lower stomach.
I gathered the fabric in my hands and started to work it over his head.
I tried to focus on the task at hand, but every inch of his body that appeared was more muscular than the last.
I was careful around his sore shoulder, and even more careful not to let the dirty part of the shirt touch his face.
I moved closer, standing between his parted thighs as I got a better angle to work the shirt off him.
We were so close now that we were breathing the same air.
I could feel his gaze on my face. I could feel the blood gathering in my cheeks, but also pooling between my thighs.
Finally, the shirt was gone, and he was sitting before me—tanned, tattooed, muscled, and with his eyes boring into mine.
He reached out his hands, settling them against my hips and pulling me a fraction forward.
I didn’t resist. My hands came to rest on his shoulders, smooth and warm against my skin.
He gave a contented little sigh, pulling me even closer. I followed his lead, kneeling on either side of his hips so I was straddling him on the mattress. What was I doing? His arms went around me, holding me close until we were chest to chest.
“Thanks for the help with my shoulder. Although it’s kind of your fault it got hurt.”
I raised an eyebrow, my hands roaming over his shoulders and up the sides of his neck. “How did I do that?”
He gave a bashful grin and looked to the side. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you last night. The way you were ogling me when I was checking out your car.”
“I was not—”
“You definitely were. I was thinking about how rare it is for you to smile, but how gorgeous it is when you do, and how if you liked my foot rubs so much, you’d be putty in my hands if I got you naked.”
I settled farther onto his lap, my hands coming around to rest behind his neck. “You were?”
He nodded. “I got into the shower with all those thoughts about you in my head, and I was so fucking hard for you it hurt.”
I was breathless. “And then what?”
“I wanted you there with me. You’re so small I could pick you up and you could wrap your legs around my waist. Or maybe I’d get on my knees and see how many times I could make you come before the hot water ran out.”
His words conjured a picture in my mind that had me holding back a moan. I could feel him starting to get hard beneath the stiff denim of his jeans, and I rocked my hips to ease the ache growing between my thighs.
His big hand splayed over my lower back, urging me on. I shamelessly rubbed against him like a cat.
“I could almost picture you, soaking wet and panting for me. I wrapped my hand around my dick and came so hard I fell and had to go to the ER.” He caught my gaze and held it, his mouth so close that it would take nothing to kiss him right now.
“I could really use a shower right about now, and I could use some company.”