All Summer Long (Fool's Gold #9)

His fingers were warm against her skin. She turned her hand so she could squeeze his back and smiled. “I wasn’t hinting. I know we’re in an unusual circumstance, as my mother would say.”


“Either way. I’m with you until we see this through.”

He flashed her a smile that had her clenching her insides.

He released her hand and rose. “Speaking about our arrangement, I’ve been thinking about the lesson for tonight.”

“Have you?”

She stood, aware that her skin seemed to be extra tingly. Anticipation hummed through her. She was ready for whatever he offered, especially if it involved more touching and kissing.

He reached for the hem of his T-shirt and pulled it off. “I decided we’d get you comfortable with the idea of being naked.”

Charlie stared at Clay’s bare chest. Of course she’d seen it before—on billboards, in magazines. But this was different. This was right in front of her—live and pretty damned close to perfect.

She tucked her hands behind her and stepped back. “I don’t want to get naked in front of you. I just ate. My stomach will stick out and I don’t look like those girls in the magazines.”

He moved closer, cupped her face in his hands and kissed her. “Have I mentioned how much I like that you’re honest?”

“No and you saying that doesn’t solve the problem.”

He stared into her eyes. “There’s no problem.”

“There is for me.”

Unless today’s lesson just involved him getting naked and she could keep her clothes on. Because she was good with that option.

He reached down and grabbed her hands, then put them on his chest. “Touch me.”

A plea she couldn’t ignore, she thought splaying her fingers against his warm skin. Still looking into his eyes, she let herself explore the solid muscles of his chest and belly. She felt the individual ridges of his six-pack, the slight curve of his pecs. His shoulders were broad, his arms defined.

He was taller than her. Stronger. Masculine enough to make her feel feminine. Sort of. She circled behind him, still stroking him, liking the sense of being in control.

His jeans sat low on his hip. She traced the line of his waistband, then slid her palms up his back.

She stepped closer, pressing her front to his back. She rested her cheek against his back and wrapped her arms around his waist. He put his arms over hers, holding her in place. Then he reached for his belt and the button at the waistband of his jeans.

She felt his jeans hit the floor. He eased away enough for briefs to follow.

Charlie wondered how on earth she’d come to have Clay Stryker and his million-dollar ass naked in her kitchen.

She stood behind him, her arms at her side, not sure what to do or where to look. He started to turn around but she yelped and grabbed his arm.

“Don’t do that.”

“Don’t do what?”

“Face me. I’m not ready.”

“It’s just a penis. You’ve seen them before.”

“The last one attacked me.”

“Mine is more well mannered.” His voice sounded as if he were amused.

She glared at his back. “Are you laughing? This isn’t funny.”

“It’s a little funny.”

She tightened her grip on his arms. “I could leave a bruise, mister.”

“You could, but you won’t. You’re going to have to look at me eventually.”

“Not necessarily. We could do it in the dark.”

“Where’s the fun in that? I like looking. Did I ever tell you my ass was insured for five million dollars? It was for the vodka campaign.”

The switch in topic had her stepping back and studying the body part in question. While she hadn’t seen that many, she had to admit Clay’s was by far the best. High, tight, muscled. He had dimples and long powerful legs.

“Would you get any of the money?” she asked. “If something had happened?”

“Nope. It would go to the company.”

She put her hand on his hip. “You don’t have any tattoos.”

“I don’t like needles. Hug me again, Charlie. I like how that feels.”

She drew in a breath, then moved closer, again pressing her front to his back. As she was fully clothed, she couldn’t feel his skin against hers, but knowing he was naked still seemed to change everything.

She placed her hands on his belly, one above the other and tried not to think about what was below. To distract herself, she lightly kissed him on his left shoulder blade. She liked how that felt, so she did it again.

“Nice,” he murmured. “You could take your shirt off. Maybe your bra.”

She considered the offer. She would like to feel her br**sts pressing against him. “Okay, but you won’t turn around.”

“Not even if it kills me.”