Three Little Words (Fool's Gold #12)

“Amish? What do the Amish have to do with anything?”


“I don’t know. Why can’t I undress you?”

She felt herself flushing. “What do you know about SPANX?”

Now it was his turn to look startled. “You want me to spank you?”

“No! Of course not. Jeez. Not spanking. SPANX. It’s...” She sucked in a breath. “It’s shape-wear. You can’t take it off me. It’s not sexy and you’ll probably hurt your back. I’m not this skinny naturally. I have to take it off myself or you won’t want to have sex with me.”

Was he being stupid on purpose or was this a guy thing?

“Just go in the bedroom and wait,” she told him. “I’ll take care of this myself and join you.”

“No way. You’re not taking care of anything yourself. Besides, if we’re talking underwear, I want to watch.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

ISABEL HAD NOT PLANNED to relive the granny-panty scene from Bridget Jones’s Diary ever, but here she was, having her own humiliating moment.

“But I could be almost naked,” she told Ford. “With almost no work on your part. Isn’t that nice to think about?”

“I like the work.” He both looked and sounded confused. “Isabel, I’ve been with my share of women. There’s not very much I haven’t seen.”

“Yeah, well, you haven’t seen this!”

Before she could come to her senses, she undid the hooks holding the wrap dress in place and let the silky garment fall to the floor. She stood in front of him wearing her beige shape-wear that went from the scoop-neck top to midthigh.

“It’s a slip,” he said.

She put her hands on her hips and momentarily enjoyed how narrow and firm they felt. Of course, all that was going to change when she wrestled her way out of the SPANX.

“It’s more than a slip. It’s practically magic. But that’s not the point. There’s no way you can get this off me. So I’m going to go into the bathroom and take it off—”

She wasn’t aware of him moving, but one second she was talking and the next she was in his arms and he was kissing her.

It was a good kiss. All lips and tongue. Her determination melted along with the rest of her. She wrapped her arms around him and hung on. He touched her hair, her jaw, then dropped to run his fingers along her spine.

He straightened and looked her up and down.

“Just let me go to the bathroom and I’ll—”

Ford reached for the straps over her shoulders. He pulled them down her arms. The garment peeled away, over her br**sts, her waist, her hips and ended up in a rolled circle at her feet. She stepped out of it.

“Problem solved,” he announced, his voice filled with satisfaction. “Anything else?”

Aside from the fact that he was fully dressed while she was standing there in a bra and very brief panties?

“Uh, not really.”

“Good.”

He nudged her toward the hall. She started walking, aware that he was unbuttoning his shirt as he went. His pants were lost in the doorway, and by the time they reached the bed and she turned around, he was naked. Completely naked.

Isabel stared at the broad shoulders, smooth chest and narrow waist. He was all muscle, with chiseled planes and sculpted lines.

“I welcome comparisons,” he told her.

She laughed. “Fine. Eric was much thinner and shorter than you. Billy had a similar build, but wasn’t as muscled.”

“And the horde?”

“I don’t really remember.”

“Hordes usually make a bigger impression,” he said, reaching for her and drawing her close.

She knew there was some funny reply, but what with being pressed against his naked body, she couldn’t think of it. Not when she didn’t know where to put her hands. There was so much bare skin. And his erect penis was pressing against her belly in a very suggestive manner.

“Relax,” he murmured, pressing his mouth to her jaw and then moving it down her neck.

“Relaxing isn’t my strong suit. Not during...you know.”

He raised his head. “‘You know’? That’s your euphemism?”

“Do you have a better one?”

He nipped her earlobe. “About a dozen. Why are you nervous?”

She found it difficult to think with him kissing her like that. Everywhere he touched, she felt both heat and little sparks. They moved through her, settling in her br**sts before heading south. She wanted to squirm—not to get away but to get closer.

He moved his hands up and down her back. With each pass, his fingers dipped lower. She found herself anticipating him touching her butt, which was strange, but she was going to go with it.

“Isabel?”

“Hmm?”

“Why are you nervous?”

“We’re going to have sex. I’m not very good at it.”

The words came out involuntarily and she winced. Ford raised his head and looked at her.

“You mentioned that and I don’t believe it.”

“Nice of you to say, but you have no actual proof. I don’t think it was good with Billy.”

“Your first time and not your fault.”

“And it wasn’t very fun with Eric.”