Chapter 11

Jo

The dim light of dawn fills my bedroom, and I pad out into the great room, still dressed in my pajamas, needing my tea.

Jakob quietly snores on the sofa, still asleep. As I pass by and take the slightest peek over the edge of the sofa, I get a shock. Blankets and pillows are in disarray, and one long, hairy man-leg is slung over the back of the sofa. But that's not the most shocking thing. I get a full view of Jakob in his gray boxer briefs.

Don't stare, Josephine. It's wrong.

I'm not staring, I tell myself. He's a guest in my house who refused to take my room. If he had taken my room he'd have his privacy. I can't help it that he's wearing next to nothing in the middle of my house.

I stifle a gasp as I keep staring. He's too magnificent to look away from. His bearded face is relaxed and turned to the side on the sofa cushion, revealing the strong, corded neck that I got a glimpse of up close yesterday. Shirtless, his chest is broad and decorated with whorls of soft reddish-blond fur. Instead of perfectly sculpted abs like a bodybuilder, his core is thick, sturdy, and strong. He's a wall of tempting masculine flesh. If I were to picture a six-foot-four rugby player in his underwear, this is it. Jakob is made even more alluring by the fact that he's the kind of guy who has no idea how stupidly hot he is.

He stirs, and I rear backward, knocking a countertop planter to the floor.

"Shit!" I whisper, desperately trying to scoop up the dirt before he wakes up.

"Jo? You all right?"

The sofa creaks as he gets up and pads across the room. Not him simply walking around my house nearly naked! Please, gods, spare me!

"Fine," I squeak. "Sorry to wake you, I was just going to make some tea and then, um…"

His hovering presence teases the hairs on the back of my neck. He doesn't even have to be touching me to make my goddamn follicles reach out for him. Instead, I reach for the broom and dustpan he's holding.

"Go and make your tea. I'll take care of the plant."

Blood surges to my cheeks, and I come to standing, averting my eyes from his below-the-waist area.

"Thank you."

"Why are you blushing?" He smirks. The man knows exactly why I'm blushing.

"You surprised me, that's all," I say, wiping my sweat-soaked hands on my pajama shorts nervously.

"Never had a house cleaner show up in his skivvies?"

I meet his gaze and smile, thinking about the bulging package I briefly glimpsed. A very promising package, indeed. "Sure, but the half-naked housekeeper only comes on Tuesdays."

Jakob guffaws like he's totally comfortable traipsing around my house like this.

And honestly, I could get used to it.

When I turn around from the kettle, Jakob has mercifully thrown on his jeans. Still, it does nothing to keep me from feeling lightheaded at all that skin and bunching muscles as he reaches for two mugs from the shelf next to the sink.

I must have some kind of look on my face because when he turns around, his eyes catch mine, and his whole casual demeanor changes. Slowly, examining me from head to toe, Jakob approaches. Standing in front of me, a mug in each hand, he sets each one on the counter on either side of me. This brings his face too, too close to mine. He inhales.

"You smell good."

I don't know how to feel about that, but my stomach decides to do a cartwheel. No one has ever said that to me.

Jakob, for his part, still exudes that spicy, woody scent I picked up on yesterday, and it radiates off his chest. "Thanks." His ceramic mug clunks against the tiled countertop, but his arms remain there, caging me in. My insides spin like a top, anticipating what may come next. I swallow. "So do you."

He stays right there, inches from my face.

I don't know what to do here, so I make small talk. "Did you sleep well?"

"Nope," he answers without hesitation.

"Oh. I'm sorry, that couch is terrible. I'm sure you'll be happy to go back to your own bed soon enough?—"

Jakob cuts off my nervous chatter with a soft kiss that sets off the range of emotions I am trying so hard to control. After all, he's leaving to go back to Arenhammer today. We're going to go slow and see what happens, right?

But oh, the way he drags his lips over my throat is so enticing, so mind-bending, I find myself wishing he would stay for the weekend. But how can he? Jakob has no clothes, no toothbrush…

"It wasn't the sofa," he breathes against my collarbone, pressing a kiss in the hollow there that has me shivering. "Although," he adds with a laugh, "it's not the best for sleeping. You were on my mind all night."

This is a dream. I ate some special brownies and now I'm having a euphoric kind of dream. That must be it because this sort of thing doesn't happen to me.

"I-I was?"

Jakob's kiss travels lower, caressing the skin of my chest south of my collarbone, brushing over my sternum and blazing a path to the other side. My head spins. My thin, cotton pajamas feel oddly uncomfortable and stifling.

"Yeah…I found myself wishing I was in your bed with you."

I gasp. "But you said you wanted to go slow…"

He laughs and lets his kiss travel farther, caressing the swell of my breast with his lips. "I did say that."

I blurt, "You-you should have come to my bed, Jakob."

His arms close in around me, and his kisses over my skin intensify. He drags his mouth over to the opposite breast, making love to the swell that just beginning to spill over the neckline of my pajama top.

"I thought about it, but you seemed content to go to sleep after…"

My senses heighten, noticing his breath growing more ragged with need. Jakob's thigh gently nudges between my legs. "After what?" I ask with no clue what he means and not really caring what he's babbling about.

He pulls back from making out with my chest and meets my gaze. "After."

After?

Then it hits me.

Oh gods. Oh, hell no.

"You…you heard that?"

He heard me masturbating with my butterfly wand!

Shit.

Of course he did. I live in a cottage the size of a toaster; you can hear everything.

Jakob nods slowly, a gleam in his eyes. I groan in embarrassment.

This might be the most humiliating moment of my life.