Searching for Beautiful(70)

His saliva dried up and his body went into a full aching attack. Ah shit. Was she going to sit next to him? His dick strained against his jeans and wept for release. His fingers curled into the pillow and he frantically searched for something to think about to let the tension ease. It was their first damn night. If Gen thought he was hot for her, she’d kick him out and never let him back in. And as much as it was torture, he wasn’t going to let her be alone until he knew she was safe from David.

“I think you’re lying to me.” She crossed her arms in front of her. The shadows of her nipples were clearly outlined under the innocent white. He stiffened and tried to drop his gaze.

Really, really tried.

“Uh, lying?”

“Idol. I bet it’s on and you lied.”

Wolfe shifted painfully and threw the remote across the couch to the farthest side. “You’re right. Here. You can have it tonight.” Please just sit down under the covers. Quickly. Please.

She cocked her hip and looked suspicious. The hemline crept up an inch. Her skin looked smooth, soft, and pale. He wondered what his hand would look like against her. Dark against light. She’d probably cushion his hardness, just like that night on the dock. No, don’t think about that. Not now.

“Take it!” he barked. “Here, get comfy.” He lifted the blanket and urged her underneath. Finally, she rolled her eyes, took a seat, and snuggled. The breath left his body in a relieved rush, but his dick remained hard enough to cut stone.

“You’re acting weird, but I’m not gonna fight you.” She happily clicked on to the end of the singing show, where contestants belted out on the stage for the judges’ and audience’s approval. Wolfe focused on some nerdy guy and tried to imagine him naked. His erection slowly softened. He’d reached a new low. Next he’d be imagining nuns. Yuck.

“I miss Simon on the show,” she chattered, moving a leg so it thrust out of the blanket. “He was rude but honest. Oh, it’s the end anyway.” She tapped the buttons, crossed her feet, and propped them up on the table. A long line of naked skin peeked out, running all the way up to the hip where the gown twisted.

His second head sprung back to life.

Shit.

“Hey, how about HGTV? House Hunters is on. They show three houses and the person has to pick one. I like to make a game out of it. My stats are impressive. Wanna check it out?”

He grunted. His gaze got stuck on the delicious curve of her hip. Where was her panty line? How come he couldn’t see it. Unless . . .

His eyes popped out of his head at the thought and he dove across the couch, yanking the covers up and over her.

“Hey! What’s your problem?”

Her hair flopped over one eye and those pink lips pursed. He remembered how she tasted. Sweet and clean, with just a hint of sin he ached to dive deeper into. Nuns. Nuns in bikinis. Yeah. Gross.

“Your—your nightgown was tangled.” His voice sounded mangled. “Didn’t want you to think I was sneaking a peek.”

Perfect. That sounded like a friend.

“Oh, sorry.” She wriggled again, adjusting her position. “Didn’t mean to scare you. Hey, you know what I was thinking about doing?”

“What?”

“Getting a tattoo.”

Heat punched him. Innocent, good-girl Gen with a tattoo. It might kill him. “They hurt.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m a surgeon, I can take it. I thought it would be kinda sexy, right? Maybe a rose with a thorn and drop of blood. Your ink is gorgeous, and it gives you that bad-boy aura. Helps with women, right?”

He never wanted so badly to watch a couple hunt for a house in Austin, Texas. “Sometimes. I don’t think you need one. You may regret it later if it’s on an impulse.”

“I wouldn’t get it in a place people could see. Maybe my lower back?”

No. He’d never be able to look at her again without imagining peeling down her jeans to reveal the secret right above the sweet swell of her ass. No. Way.

“Ah, people call them tramp stamps, Gen.” He wished he were in Alaska right now, buried in a snowbank.

She wrinkled her nose. “So? Or maybe here?”

No. She wouldn’t. She wouldn’t.

She did.

She threw the covers off her, hiked up her nightgown, and revealed the naked curve of her left hip. “What do you think? You could see it in a bikini but it would be more for me. Right?”

Okay, she was wearing panties. The delicate line at her waist showed through the cotton. Definitely white to match. So innocent. What would it be like to order her to strip off her panties and be bare and ready for him underneath? He’d play with her, torture her with a bit of orgasm denial, then finally let her fly. Her nails would bite into his shoulders and her pussy would clench around his dick and his tongue would dive deep into her mouth—