Sweet Obsession: Windy City Kink, Book 1 by Kelly Jamieson

like that,” he said roughly. “Or you’ll be in my bed faster than you can say ‘ride me’.”
    She dropped her gaze and snapped her mouth shut. She swallowed, flustered and mixed up and overheated.
    “Come on.” His voice still rasped as he pushed back from the table. “Leave the dishes,” he added as she went to pick up her empty plate. “Let’s go outside. You’ll need your jacket.”
    He held the jacket for her as she slid her arms into it, then turned her by her shoulders and started to fasten the buttons. The brush of his hands across her breasts, even through the jacket, was too much for her, and she batted them away. “I can do that,” she snapped.
    He stepped back, his lips twitching, his hands in the air. “Fine.”
    She wrapped her scarf loosely around her neck and picked up her briefcase, which held her camera and tape measure and notepad. She followed him outside, and as soon as they stepped out, the wind had her hair all over the place, in her face. She tried to hold it back, but it was hopeless.
    “Hold on,” Jack said and disappeared inside. He returned a moment later with a thick rubber band, but instead of handing it to her, he stood behind her, gathered her hair back and fastened it into a ponytail. She was sure it was all messy and bumpy without a hairbrush, but his fingers stroking through her hair teased and tantalized her, made her shiver.
    “Thanks.”
    She tried to ignore her pattering heart and focus on work. She looked around the space and began to take photos. The beauty of digital images was that she could take as many as she wanted and just delete the ones she didn’t need later, ensuring she had what she’d need. After she’d taken pictures, she pulled out the tape measure. “Can you help me get some measurements?” she asked Jack.
    “Sure.” He took the end of the measuring tape and she gave directions, jotting down numbers and sketching things out roughly. They spent the better part of an hour out there, measuring, throwing out ideas, chatting a little about the weather and Jack being back in Chicago.
    When they finally returned inside, the warmth surrounded her and she realized her hands were frozen. She flexed and unflexed her fingers and Jack noticed. He moved closer and took her hands in his, which amazingly were warm. “You must have good circulation,” she said.
    He made a funny noise. “Surprising, since all my blood is somewhere else.”
    Once more her jaw loosened and she gazed up at him. He just smiled and shook his head, rubbing her hands.
    “I know what you need,” he said. “A cup of hot coffee in front of the fire.”
    “Oh…I should go…I’ve got what I need…”
    Her protests were feeble and even she knew it. Jack released one of her hands but held the other, and once more led her into the living room. He flicked a switch on the gas fireplace which flared to life. It was a bright glow of warmth compared to the dull gray of the sky outside.
    “Take your jacket off and have a seat,” he said. “I’ll make some coffee.”
    And she did. She knew it wasn’t a good idea, but she was shivering with cold and the fire was so warm and bright, the curved sofa so inviting. She smoothed her palm over a kitten-soft throw lying on the arm of the couch, and picked it up and wrapped it around her before she sat and snuggled into a corner. The fire made her realize her cheeks were cold too.
    She studied the room as she waited. Although it was tastefully decorated, it didn’t feel like a room where Jack spent a lot of time. A few books and magazines sat on the low, square coffee table, but none sat open as if he’d been reading them, and the blanket now wrapped around her had been neatly folded. There were so many windows, there wasn’t room for any pictures on the walls, only sconces on the white pillars between glass, and there were no framed photographs sitting on end tables.
    Jack appeared, holding two steaming mugs. “Here you go,” he said.