Irresistible You by Kate Meader

Author:Kate Meader [Meader, Kate]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Pocket Star Books
Published: 2017-08-14T07:00:00+00:00

“What the hell is that supposed to be?”

Violet canted her head and took in the half-formed—­penis? elephant trunk? nuclear reactor?—spinning like a top on Isobel’s ceramics wheel.

“I call it Wishful Thinking.” Isobel dipped her hands in water and applied another lascivious stroke to the phallic lump before her. “It’s been that long that I truly don’t remember what one looks like.”

Harper grabbed her wineglass with clay-covered fingers. The Sister Bonding sessions had been continuing on as regular a schedule as they could manage. Indoor rock climbing was more fun than Harper expected. She’d vetoed trapeze (Isobel’s idea), so this week they were doing something a little less active and a bit more . . . drunken. Pottery and Pinot, a class for people with no clue about ceramics and no intention of getting one, had seemed like a great addition to the rotation. Get dirty. Drink wine. Make clay penises. A laugh riot.

Of course Harper wasn’t making a clay penis. She was—well, she was waiting for inspiration. Inspiration was choosing to stay the hell away, so all Harper had on her wheel was a disc that could possibly pass as a puck. Because she lived and breathed hockey, obvs.

But at least she had wine. One more gulp into the abyss.

The creative sort, Violet was crafting something that looked like a really nice mug that could actually be drunk from without producing an unladylike drool. The ceramics class was her bright idea. She’d claimed she’d never done it before, which was patently a lie.

“Why has it been so long since you saw a penis?”

Said just loud enough to draw Church Lady glances from their classmates as well as from Debbie, the instructor who preferred to devote her attention to the people who spent more time with their hands on the wheel than wrapped around a wineglass.

Uh, Pinot is in the class title, Debbie.

Isobel sighed. “Look at me.”

Harper and Violet obeyed. Then exchanged puzzled glances with each other because looking at Isobel provided no enlightenment whatsoever.

“I’m six feet tall and have better musculature than any of the guys I’ve ever dated.”

Violet frowned. “Not getting the problem.”

“I’m a jock. Guys, or at least the guys I like, don’t date jocks.”

Harper took another pull of her wine. She wondered if drinking and ceramics was such a good idea. Throwing under the influence. “What’s your type?”

“Guys who make me look like I’m not going to flatten them.”

“So, tall and built.” Remy made Harper look small, but she felt ten feet tall when in his arms. A week since that night in New Orleans, and her body was still on fire with want.

No wonder her ceramics efforts were garbage when all she could think of was his hard body sliding against hers. The halt he’d pulled when she asked, just testing his resolve and respect. His fun turnabout as he ordered, Now ride me, minou. The man had known exactly the right combination of words and actions to smooth away her nerves and turn her into a full-fledged sex bomb.

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