Page 50 of Learn Your Lesson

“Nacho,” Chloe scolded, and she attempted the scoop again.

This time, when she rubbed her hand along my crotch, my cock started to wake.

Fuck.

I ground my teeth together, closing my eyes and thinking about anything that might quell that natural reaction — insects, freezing cold ice, roadkill.

But the cat slipped out of her grasp once more, and Chloe toppled in her attempt to wrangle the thing before it could dig its claws into my couch.

Which left her half-straddling my lap, one knee on the couch cushion next to my thigh, and one hand propped behind my head, those perfect, round, full breasts squarely in my face.

Fucking hell.

“Oh, God, sorry!” She squeaked the words, scrambling off me and leaving her sweet scent behind. She smelled of crayons and chai and sugar.

Once she was standing again, her hands dove for the cat with new determination.

But the cat scampered off before she could grab it.

Which left her grabbingme.

“Oh!” she exclaimed, and I clamped my hands around her wrists to stop her from trying to do anything else.

If this woman so much as grazed my cock again, I was going to have a hard time not throwing her over my shoulder and having my way with her.

The cat on my shoulder flicked its tail, as if it were deeply entertained by the whole show. Chloe’s face was redder than I’d ever seen it, and she had her eyes squeezed tight, her face pinched up in embarrassment.

I held onto her wrists for longer than necessary, probably just to havesomesort of control in that moment.

She peeked one eye open and then the next. “I’m so sorr—”

“If you apologize one more time,” I threatened, but the warning died on my lips, because suddenly, I was very aware ofeverything.

How the room suddenly felt smaller.

How I could hear her breathing through the silence.

The way my words had softened her.

The way she melted into me.

The way her nipples grew hard beneath the stupid fucking fleece pajamas she wore.

She was still close enough to smell, and I still had my hands clamped around her wrists, and she still had her wide eyes on me, her lips peeling apart slowly as her mouth fell into a softo.

Every breath she took was shallower than the last.

My nostrils flared.

She swallowed.

“What?” she asked, andfuck, I’d never heard a one-word question sound so goddamn sexy in my life. It was just a breath, warm and dizzying when it met my mouth. “If I apologize one more time,what?”

It felt like a dare.

An invitation.

It felt like she wanted me to follow through on that threat.