Cooking with Kandy by Peggy Jaeger

Author:Peggy Jaeger [Jaeger, Peggy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2014-04-03T18:00:00+00:00

* * *

Idiot, her mind screamed as she bolted up to her bedroom.

Why don’t you just wear a sign around your neck that reads desperate.

She threw herself down onto the bed and scraped her hands over her face.

More than embarrassed by her wanton behavior, Kandy was disgusted for having no control.

One kiss. That’s all it had taken. Just one kiss and she’d begged him for more.

The second his tongue wound with hers, sucking and tugging it ravenously, her mind stopped functioning. The challenge for domination of the mop was over the moment their lips met.

She’d released her grip on the handle, vaguely hearing it slam to the floor between them, and snaked her hands up and around Josh’s neck, massaging the prickly hairs at the nape of his collar. Twining her fingers into his thick, coarse hair, she pulled him down and deepened the kiss further, her galloping heart almost leaping out of her. As his hands floated down her back to circle her waist and pull in her tighter, she felt her legs start to give out from under her. When he gripped her butt a heartbeat later and pressed their bodies closer, imprinting and molding himself to her, Kandy thought she could die from pleasure.

He felt so damn good. So unbelievably good.

Better than anything she’d ever felt before.

She wanted more, much more, than just a stolen kiss in the kitchen. Kandy wanted to be under him, staring up at him, calling his name when he made her come.

The very thought as it passed through her mind made her blush scarlet.

She pulled a pillow from under the covers, punched it, and threw it behind her neck.

How many times had he told her over the past few days he was with her for one reason and one reason alone? To find out who was harassing her.

He’s here to help, that’s all. When he’s done, he’ll leave.

How ironic is that?

She’d spent her whole life concentrating on building her career, never wanting to be bothered having to choose between a man and her goals, knowing the goals were always the prime objective, never wanting to have to make a choice between her head and her heart. Now, when she’d finally found a man who might be worth sacrificing for, worth letting in, she was nothing more to him than a responsibility.

Oh, he desired her, all right. The proof hit her squarely in her midsection when she was in his arms. But, apparently desire wasn’t enough. No, he wasn’t going to do anything—including her—but the job he’d been hired to do.

Karma really was a bitch to bring a man she could be comfortable with, one she could laugh with, who appreciated her skills and career choices, and, more important, a man she could trust in her private sphere, only to have him deny both of them the pleasure of a physical relationship because his job came first.

She rose and crossed to the bathroom. To the reflection in the mirror she said aloud, “He’s right about one thing.

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