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eddies in the raging river of sensation and emotion coursing
through him. He walked beside Kit, a robe somehow on his
shoulders though he didn t know how it d gotten there. They
approached the door to the lobby. A low archway led to a hotel
and spa. That must be their destination, Jeremy realized, lucky to
be able to think at all. His cock ached so bad black spots
danced in his vision with every step.
Hey! Kit!
Jeremy turned with Kit, too tuned in to his lover s
movements to do anything but mirror them step for step and
movements to do anything but mirror them step for step and
breath for breath.
A tall man, his hair in a thick braid, walked toward them
from across the pool deck. Wide shoulders. Exotic features. Full
mouth splitting into a brighter than white smile. Andy Shea?
The celebrity chef approached Kit, hand extended. Kit s
gaze shifted. The aura of glamour and self-assurance fell away
from Kit. Kit shook with Andy and waved in Jeremy s direction.
This is Jeremy. Um. Yeah. So what brings you here?
Surprise etched itself into Andy s forehead, marring the
smooth skin. You were looking for me in the hotel kitchens
earlier?
Gaze hardening, Kit snatched at Andy s arm and tried to
tug him away from Jeremy. Jeremy followed. Kit glanced over
his shoulder and ran a hand through his still-wet hair, setting the
strands awry.
Kit looked at him, pleading. Can you give me a minute?
Jeremy folded his arms and raised one brow. Fuck that.
Like he d leave Kit alone with this man? Mr. Sex On a Spatula?
You re late, Kit finally said when Jeremy didn t budge. I
wasn t expecting you now. We ll have to do it later.
Do it? Jeremy found his voice. Do what?
Yeah. All right, but ticktock, you know. Andy turned to
Jeremy. Nice to finally meet you in person.
They both watched in silence as the chef walked away,
creases in his trousers pressed so sharply they seemed to form
creases in his trousers pressed so sharply they seemed to form
twin arrows from his ankles up to his ass cheeks. His really firm,
round ass cheeks.
Tick& tock? Jeremy said as Andy rounded a corner and
moved out of sight. Nice to finally meet me in person?
Kit ran a palm over the back of his neck and blew out a
breath. He s helping me with my ganache. It s a little runny.
Jeremy barked a laugh at the unexpected reply.
Your ganache is runny? Gaze narrowed, he pinned Kit
with his stare. That was your meeting? To perfect your runny
ganache?
Kit nodded. Everything about him looked guilty. Smelled
guilty. From his late nights to the way his shoulders hunched
now. He was definitely cheating. Jeremy opened his mouth to tell
Kit where he could stick his mixing spoon.
You gave me until the end of the month! Kit s nearly
shouted reminder turned heads. He lowered his voice. Just&
Don t go there. It s not what you re thinking.
Lips pursed, nostrils flared, Jeremy glared at Kit.
Kit shifted from one foot to the other. Please?
Jeremy closed his eyes. Counted to ten. Opened them. Kit
stared at him with undisguised fear and sincere need. Such a
contrast to the man who d had his finger up his ass ten minutes
ago. Jeremy could only shake his head and sigh. Fine. I ll trust
you.
Kit sagged. Thank you.
Kit sagged. Thank you.
Damn and damn again. Hard-on deflated, mood punctured,
Jeremy jerked the belt of his robe tighter and stalked toward
their private dressing room to find his clothes.
Are we going home? Kit s touch brought him up short.
I m hungry. Jeremy kept walking, and Kit s hand fell
away. I want some dinner.
He might be willing to wait for Kit to give up the goods on
his shenanigans, but he wasn t willing to pretend he was happy
about it. The only thing that made sense here was Andy and Kit.
They both were famous. Both loved to bake. The sexual
attraction between the two of them made a hurricane look like a
gentle April shower. Not to mention that Kit had a history of
falling for his leading lady& man& chef. Whatever.
Jeremy jerked his jeans over the swim trunks the concierge
had picked out for him when he and Kit had arrived at the Dive
Bar. Kit dressed quietly next to him.
It s a problem for you. Isn t it? Jeremy s question
brought Kit s head around.
What? The leather thong Kit wore around his neck
vibrated as he swallowed.
Keeping your hands off someone you ve worked on a
project with. Jeremy buttoned his shirt slowly, his fingers more
sure of their movements than they had any right to be. Is that
why we re together? Because No Apologies got under your
skin?
skin?
Kit hadn t had a romantic lead since he d filmed with
Jeremy. It d only make sense that they were still together. The
mai tais he d drunk soured and threatened to crawl up his throat.
Still, he buttoned and tucked in his shirt as if he didn t have a
care in the world. As if the man standing next to him didn t look
as if he d just been slapped in the face by the cold, hard truth.
I can t believe you just said that to me. The sunburn
across Kit s nose darkened.
What? Jeremy shoved his wallet into his back pocket, his [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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eddies in the raging river of sensation and emotion coursing
through him. He walked beside Kit, a robe somehow on his
shoulders though he didn t know how it d gotten there. They
approached the door to the lobby. A low archway led to a hotel
and spa. That must be their destination, Jeremy realized, lucky to
be able to think at all. His cock ached so bad black spots
danced in his vision with every step.
Hey! Kit!
Jeremy turned with Kit, too tuned in to his lover s
movements to do anything but mirror them step for step and
movements to do anything but mirror them step for step and
breath for breath.
A tall man, his hair in a thick braid, walked toward them
from across the pool deck. Wide shoulders. Exotic features. Full
mouth splitting into a brighter than white smile. Andy Shea?
The celebrity chef approached Kit, hand extended. Kit s
gaze shifted. The aura of glamour and self-assurance fell away
from Kit. Kit shook with Andy and waved in Jeremy s direction.
This is Jeremy. Um. Yeah. So what brings you here?
Surprise etched itself into Andy s forehead, marring the
smooth skin. You were looking for me in the hotel kitchens
earlier?
Gaze hardening, Kit snatched at Andy s arm and tried to
tug him away from Jeremy. Jeremy followed. Kit glanced over
his shoulder and ran a hand through his still-wet hair, setting the
strands awry.
Kit looked at him, pleading. Can you give me a minute?
Jeremy folded his arms and raised one brow. Fuck that.
Like he d leave Kit alone with this man? Mr. Sex On a Spatula?
You re late, Kit finally said when Jeremy didn t budge. I
wasn t expecting you now. We ll have to do it later.
Do it? Jeremy found his voice. Do what?
Yeah. All right, but ticktock, you know. Andy turned to
Jeremy. Nice to finally meet you in person.
They both watched in silence as the chef walked away,
creases in his trousers pressed so sharply they seemed to form
creases in his trousers pressed so sharply they seemed to form
twin arrows from his ankles up to his ass cheeks. His really firm,
round ass cheeks.
Tick& tock? Jeremy said as Andy rounded a corner and
moved out of sight. Nice to finally meet me in person?
Kit ran a palm over the back of his neck and blew out a
breath. He s helping me with my ganache. It s a little runny.
Jeremy barked a laugh at the unexpected reply.
Your ganache is runny? Gaze narrowed, he pinned Kit
with his stare. That was your meeting? To perfect your runny
ganache?
Kit nodded. Everything about him looked guilty. Smelled
guilty. From his late nights to the way his shoulders hunched
now. He was definitely cheating. Jeremy opened his mouth to tell
Kit where he could stick his mixing spoon.
You gave me until the end of the month! Kit s nearly
shouted reminder turned heads. He lowered his voice. Just&
Don t go there. It s not what you re thinking.
Lips pursed, nostrils flared, Jeremy glared at Kit.
Kit shifted from one foot to the other. Please?
Jeremy closed his eyes. Counted to ten. Opened them. Kit
stared at him with undisguised fear and sincere need. Such a
contrast to the man who d had his finger up his ass ten minutes
ago. Jeremy could only shake his head and sigh. Fine. I ll trust
you.
Kit sagged. Thank you.
Kit sagged. Thank you.
Damn and damn again. Hard-on deflated, mood punctured,
Jeremy jerked the belt of his robe tighter and stalked toward
their private dressing room to find his clothes.
Are we going home? Kit s touch brought him up short.
I m hungry. Jeremy kept walking, and Kit s hand fell
away. I want some dinner.
He might be willing to wait for Kit to give up the goods on
his shenanigans, but he wasn t willing to pretend he was happy
about it. The only thing that made sense here was Andy and Kit.
They both were famous. Both loved to bake. The sexual
attraction between the two of them made a hurricane look like a
gentle April shower. Not to mention that Kit had a history of
falling for his leading lady& man& chef. Whatever.
Jeremy jerked his jeans over the swim trunks the concierge
had picked out for him when he and Kit had arrived at the Dive
Bar. Kit dressed quietly next to him.
It s a problem for you. Isn t it? Jeremy s question
brought Kit s head around.
What? The leather thong Kit wore around his neck
vibrated as he swallowed.
Keeping your hands off someone you ve worked on a
project with. Jeremy buttoned his shirt slowly, his fingers more
sure of their movements than they had any right to be. Is that
why we re together? Because No Apologies got under your
skin?
skin?
Kit hadn t had a romantic lead since he d filmed with
Jeremy. It d only make sense that they were still together. The
mai tais he d drunk soured and threatened to crawl up his throat.
Still, he buttoned and tucked in his shirt as if he didn t have a
care in the world. As if the man standing next to him didn t look
as if he d just been slapped in the face by the cold, hard truth.
I can t believe you just said that to me. The sunburn
across Kit s nose darkened.
What? Jeremy shoved his wallet into his back pocket, his [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]