Slave to Love by Julie A. Richman

Author:Julie A. Richman [Richman, Julie A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Julie A. Richman
Published: 2016-01-13T23:00:00+00:00

Hale groans as he dips his body into the seat of the Lotus. “Oh man, my shoulder is really feeling that fall.”

“That’s because you’re old,” I tease.

“I’m only thirty-seven, Miss Spring Chicken.” He gives my thigh a squeeze.

“You’re only four years older than me and I think you’ve probably experienced twenty more years of stuff than I have.”

Looking straight forward, he nods. “You’re probably right.”

And I wonder what would make a guy on the path that he was on, as MIT is one of the top technological schools in the United States, exclusive to the brightest minds, veer so far off that course.

“How long were you in the military?” I need to unravel the mystery that is Hale Lundström.

“A little under eleven years.”

“Wow, I didn’t realize you were in for that long. Did you just enlist or did they recruit you?”

I can tell he’s thinking about how to answer this. I love watching him; he gets very still, and I would kill to see the thought process that goes on within his mind. So dark and masculine, with those loose curls and stubble, I try and think if I’ve ever been so attracted to another man as I am to him. Yes, he’s exceedingly handsome, no doubt about that, but it’s the intelligence, the wry humor and the portions of his world that render him an enigma, that make him so damn attractive.

“Umm, a little of both.” Is finally his response.

“You can’t tell me, can you?” While these secrets make him even more attractive, I am frustrated and wonder will I ever scale his walls. Will I ever be allowed to?

He looks over and smiles at me with a closed mouth smile. He can’t tell me and I wonder in what kind of badass shit he’s been involved. Sexy just climbed another notch. And my freaking nipples are clawing at my tank top.

“Want to go out for an early dinner?” We’re approaching the light on Barton Springs and South Lamar.

“No.” I shake my head, “Get over into the left lane. Let’s just go over to Whole Foods, pick up some wine and cheese and stuff that’s just easy to munch on, and take it back to my place.”

The suggestion evokes a full-blown smile and he maneuvers the Lotus over two lanes with just a flick of the steering wheel. Why am I feeling every single thing between my legs? His smile, the turn of the car. I’m on fire.

“Let’s go, mermaid,” He helps me out of the Lotus, his arm immediately going around my shoulder with an ease, as if he’s done it a thousand times before. His hand gently rubs my upper arm as we walk through the underground garage and take the moving ramp up into the chain’s headquarters store.

I wonder if this feels as good to him as it does to me.

Entering this building that takes up a square city block of very prime Sixth Street real estate, I grab a small cart and we head toward long buffets of prepared hot and cold foods.

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