What a Woman Wants (A Manley Maids Novel) (14 page)

Especially when they perked up right before his eyes.

The mood changed in an instant. He felt it before he saw the way she was looking at him. At his lips, specifically. Which was fine with him because he could then look at hers and wonder how the sheen of moisture her tongue left behind when it slicked across them would taste. And he could stare at the flutter of her pulse at the base of her throat and allow himself to imagine it against his tongue. Or how those nipples would feel against—

Back off, Manley.

He didn’t listen to his voice of reason. He couldn’t. Not with the wide-eyed look Livvy was giving him and the way she put the camera on the countertop, then leaned back onto her palms, her breasts changing angle just enough so those temptingly perky nipples were trained on him like a heat-seeking missile and, yeah, that was exactly what he had inside these damn stupid pants. She really shouldn’t be sitting so close.

“Why?” Against his better judgment, he stood. “Because of this.”

He dragged her the ten inches across the countertop until she was right in front of him, her legs on either side of his hips, his hand clamped firmly to the perfect muscles of her insanely delectable ass, with her heat inches away from where he wanted it to be.

“I’m going to kiss you, Livvy.” He threaded his fingers through her hair like he’d been itching to do since he’d first seen her looking so imperiously sexy in the foyer. “And you’re going to kiss me back.”

“I am?” She licked her lips again.

He didn’t answer. Well, not with words.

He spread a palm against the curve of her waist, caressing the skin that had been teasing him since she’d flounced in, sucking all the oxygen from the room. Her skin felt so damn silky good beneath his fingertips. Her fluttering breaths ratcheted up his own until the next thing he knew, he’d speared both hands into that wild, frothy concoction she called hair but he called heaven, and his tongue was discovering all those sweet secret places in her mouth. Her hot breath seared fire through him and surged to that one part of him that was against that part of her he wanted to get to know better, and her hands clung to the damn flimsy pants that suddenly weren’t flimsy enough because he wanted to feel every clench and tug she made. God, he wanted to lay her back on the counter and take her until neither of them could think straight.

Hell, if he was considering doing that, he
already
wasn’t
thinking straight.

Which was the perfect excuse to do it.

He sank down onto her, pressing her against the granite, shifting so her legs could wrap around his waist and her amazingly, wonderfully soft breasts were cushioned against his chest, her head angled to take the kiss deeper while she moved against him. Sean had to focus on not coming in these stupid pants, which wasn’t easy to do when his hands were skimming surfaces he’d only dreamed about—recently—hugging curves he’d fantasized over, and the temperature spiked in the kitchen faster than Merriweather’s seven-thousand-dollar professional convection oven.

“
Big mistake. Huge
.” Orwell punctuated his commentary with a set of talons to the shoulder blades.

“Sonofabitch!” Sean shot up.

“
Sonofabitch! Sonofabitch
!” Orwell even had his voice down pat.

“Oh, no!” Livvy raised herself up on her elbows. “You have to watch what you say around him, Sean.”

“
Sonofabitch
!” Orwell flapped his wings, sending feathers scattering all over the countertop.

Sean took a deep breath, willing his body to calm the hell down. Jesus. One two-minute kiss and all the blood had left every cell in his body except the ones in his groin.

He stepped away from the cradle of Livvy’s thighs.

Bad idea. Gravity had done what his hands had wanted to do to her skirt, draping it around her hips, revealing, holy hell, the skimpiest triangle of baby pink fabric between her legs. Something so utterly feminine against the camo skirt, those chunky boots, and the drab olive green shirt that, on her, was incredibly sexy, and Sean felt all those southern blood cells go on the march.

Orwell fluttered onto Livvy’s belly. “
Sonofabitch
.”

Sean could have sworn the damn bird winked at him. “Sonofa—”

“Okay, now that we’ve established
that
particular bit of profanity firmly in Orwell’s vocabulary, I think it’s time for him to learn something else.” Livvy sat up, managing to pull her top down and her skirt back into place in one fluid motion that was as effective as slamming a vault door closed. She transferred the parrot onto her shoulder where it looked at him with a smirk.

“Livvy.” Sean put a hand on her arm.

The bird swiped at it.

Sean yanked it away just in time. But it was going to take more than that to deter him. “Livvy, we need to discuss what just happened.”

“Why?”

She cocked her head and her curls tumbled over her breasts, and Sean had to tuck his hands into his pockets to not only keep them off her, but also to gain some margin of dignity so that his raging hard-on wasn’t outlined against the stupid fabric.

“Because we can’t pretend it didn’t.”

She tucked some curls behind her ear. “Were you going to? I wasn’t. I like kissing you.”

Her candor was so unexpected, so disarming, that Sean didn’t know what to say. He went with “You do?” which almost had him crawling under the counter in mortification. She made him feel like a teenager again.

Though that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.

“You couldn’t tell?” The corner of her mouth curved up, highlighting the sparkle in her amber eyes.

Once again desire socked him in the gut and stole his breath.

“Sean? You okay?”

Actually, he was a little put out that she was able to breathe. And to joke. And to hold a conversation. He obviously didn’t affect her like she affected him. “I should apologize. I don’t normally go around kissing clients or—”

“Maybe you should.”

“Huh?”

She set the bird on the overhead wagon wheel with the pots hanging from it, and the damn menace climbed around it like it was a jungle gym. Sean just
waited
for it to christen him with his reconstituted morning meal—for all of about a second because Livvy hopped off the counter in front of him.

Right
in front of him.

“I said, maybe you
should
go around kissing your clients. You’re quite talented in that area. Not that you aren’t in the cleaning department, but I don’t see why we can’t combine the two. It’s not as if we’re going to be able to ignore what’s between us, and unless you quit or I fire you, we’re stuck here together. And I’m pretty sure if I fire you, that’d be grounds for a lawsuit.”

Sean got breathless just from listening to her. Among other reasons. “You seem to have given this a lot of thought.” He didn’t know whether to be flattered or insulted.

She shrugged and it brought his attention front and center to those gorgeous breasts that shifted so provocatively beneath her shirt.

He was going with
flattered
.

“Yes, some thought.” She tucked her hair behind her ears. Which were adorable.

Jesus. He had it bad.

“I mean,” she went on, oblivious, as if they were discussing the weather forecast, “it’s not as if I can ignore you or your effect on me. Plus, I don’t want to.”

“Are you always this candid?”

She shrugged again. An added bonus. “Pointless to beat around the bush. Life’s too short. We’re attracted to each other. Nothing wrong with that.” Her fingers made a little foray up his shirt and Sean felt every touch clear down to his toes. “So if you want to kiss me again, I’m not going to complain.”

Did she have to make it so freaking easy for him? Which only made it so freaking hard. It made a
lot
of things hard, but Christ. He was trying to take her million-dollar inheritance out from under her. What kind of guy would he be if he took her up on her offer, and then did that?

She stood up on her tiptoes, put her hands behind his head, angled it down, and pulled him into another kiss.

He’d be a foolish, desperate guy who wanted just one more taste.

Her tongue sought out his, her fingers threaded through the hair at his neck, her nipples tightened against him . . . and Sean was lost.

It was a lot more than one taste.

G
OD,
he tasted so good. He
smelled
so good. He
felt
so good.

Livvy couldn’t get close enough to Sean. She ought to be worried about how inappropriate this was, but hanging out with him, playing racquetball, being with him . . .

She was lonely. Her co-op family was nice, but they weren’t
this
. She hadn’t had
this
in far too long and she missed it. It wasn’t as if she had this spark with everyone and hell, what was the reason not to act on it? She wasn’t moving in here forever, so it wouldn’t cause awkward complications for the rest of their lives.

Yeah, but is it a good idea? Like, what do you really know about the guy? Maybe he’s only into you so you’ll be his sugar mama. Gotta admit, this house is good incentive.

No she wasn’t going to admit it. It wasn’t as if they were going to pledge their undying love to each other. .
 .
 Sex wasn’t happily ever after. They could just enjoy their time together. If there was one thing she’d learned from Merriweather, it was that she couldn’t count on anything or anyone, so she was living in the moment. The here and now. Which consisted of his arms and his lips and oh, God, his hands . . . They’d migrated to her backside and were igniting a thousand sparks beneath her skin, so her conscience could just take a hike and let her enjoy this.

She rubbed her belly against his erection. It’d been a lot longer for
that
.

“Livvy, we need to—”

She stuck her tongue back into his mouth. That way he couldn’t speak. She didn’t want him to speak. She wanted him to moan. And groan. And maybe even call out her name on a long drawn-out cry. But no speaking. No reason to say
no
or
stop
or
wait
 . . . She didn’t want to wait and she
definitely
didn’t want to stop.

“I want you, Sean.”

Three words and the floodgates opened. Whatever protest he’d been about to utter disappeared into her mouth as he thrust his tongue inside and took over the kiss.

She was more than willing to let him.

One hand cradled her butt, and the other trailed the sweetest bit of heaven up her spine and knotted in her hair, tugging it back with just the right amount of
want
and
sexy
that Livvy almost melted at his feet.

“This isn’t a good idea,” he muttered against her throat. But he didn’t stop kissing it.

“I disagree,” she gasped amid the effects the swirls of his tongue were causing.

“We have to live together.” He nipped the cord in her neck and Livvy wanted to swoon.

But she didn’t. Swooning women missed out on the good stuff. “So the issue with this is . . . ?”

She got the groan then. And a moan. And a hike back up onto the countertop, this time with both of his hands spearing through her hair, and his hard body—
all
of it—pressed against her just where she wanted it to be.

But she wanted it naked.

So she tugged the bottom of his shirt from his pants and ran her palms up the smooth, sleek muscle there, every toned, fit inch of it setting her nerve endings to shiver.

He had the perfect amount of hair on his chest, enough to tease her fingertips—and her nipples—and she combed through it, aching to nuzzle her cheek against it.

She pushed his golf shirt higher, and then suddenly, she didn’t have to worry about it as Sean took over, drawing it over his head from the back and replacing his hands in her hair in one solid, sexy, masculine movement that had her tummy sighing with need.

He nipped her bottom lip.

She licked his top one.

He groaned.

She smiled.

“Proud of yourself?” he growled, hiking her closer to his chest, cradling himself between her thighs where her panties were already useless against the desire he was creating in her.

“Proud? No. Desperate? God, yes.” She wiggled against him. “Touch me, Sean. I need your hands on me.”

“Ah, Livvy. This is such a bad idea.” But he did it anyway.

His hands slid from her face to trace over her shoulders, his thumbs dabbling along her collarbone, every point of contact an ignition switch for her libido.

He slid his palms down her arms and intertwined their fingers, all the while keeping up the seductive sweep of his tongue in her mouth, along her lips, over her jaw, nuzzling into the sensitive area of her neck.

He drew her hands up her body, both of them fitting over her curves, rubbing spirals around her nipples, never actually touching them, but oh so close. She turned slightly, but Sean moved their hands away before she got them where she wanted them to be.

Instead, he did something almost obscenely sexy, bringing their fingertips to where their lips met, the soft brush-by as erotic as any intimate caress, the quick lick to her fingers almost sending her over the edge.

She whimpered, wanting more, but knowing he wouldn’t give it to her. He was teasing her and he was damn good at it.

But she was no slouch in that department either, so she slid her fingers from his and tucked them beneath the waistband of his pants just above his backside, flexing against the amazing muscles beneath his skin.

“God, Livvy, careful.”

“Am I hurting you?”

He took another long, mouthy kiss along her jaw line, ending just below her ear, sending shivers all through her. “Not in the way you mean, but you definitely have me aching.”

She smiled then. She felt the ache he was referring to, and yeah, it was growing by the nanosecond.

“Let’s get naked, Sean.”

She felt the breath leave his body. Felt the shivers that wracked him. Good.

“Livvy, you can’t just say that with your legs wrapped around me and not expect me to act on it. Even if you are on the kitchen countertop.”