Table for Two-epub
Read Table for Two-epub Online
Authors: Jess Dee
Sunday Night Dinner Club
Book 2
Table For Two
Jess Dee
eBooks are not transferable.
They cannot be sold, shared or given away as it is an infringement on the copyright of this work.
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
Table for Two
Copyright © 2014 Jess Dee
ISBN: 978-1-31095-049-0
Edited By Jennifer Miller
Cover by Valerie Tibbs
Formatted by
IRONHORSE Formatting
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form by any electronic or mechanical means—accept in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews—without permission.
For more information visit:
With thanks to:
Fedora, once again, for your sharp eyes and excellent feedback.
Jennifer, for staying with me and holding my hand while I made the big jump into self-publishing.
And with special thanks to:
Elliot, even though you gleefully torture me on a weekly basis, I couldn’t have written this book without you. Thanks for all your help. (Go you Galloping Greens.)
Table of Contents
Look for these titles by Jess Dee
James Elliot pushed the door open and stepped into the room. He got two steps in—and froze.
“Bloody hell!” Olivia Taylor’s yelp pierced the air. “What are you doing in here?”
James had to force the muscles in his jaw to work before he could respond, and even then forming words wasn’t easy. “What am I doing? Uh, what are you doing?”
Liv glared at him. “What does it look like I’m doing?” A curious, high-pitched squeak marred the usual controlled tone of her voice.
“Uh…” James took a moment to look her over from head to toe. A moment he knew he had no right to take, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself. His gaze swept from the shocked look in her blue eyes and the rosy red lips pursed in a frown, to the hand propped on her hip and finally to the sexy red nail polish on her toes. “Well, it, uh, doesn’t look like you’re doing much of anything.”
Which wasn’t a false assessment of the situation. She just stood there, glaring at him. James would know, since he couldn’t seem to drag his gaze away from her. Hell, he couldn’t even blink. She might not be doing a damn thing, but she’d never looked better. Ever.
She scowled at him, shooting invisible daggers from across her bedroom. “I’m getting dressed, you moron.”
“Ah, right.” James nodded, snapping back to reality. “Which would probably explain why you have nothing on.” His good friend stood there, beside a tall chest of drawers, stripped naked. Magnificently, wonderfully, stunningly naked.
She looked good. Chin-droppingly, mouthwateringly good. And just as soon as the shock of finding her this way wore off, he’d close his eyes, turn around and get the hell out of her bedroom.
“Yes, that would indeed explain it.” Her voice held a hint of sarcasm. “What is not explainable is what you’re doing inside my room
while
I’m getting dressed?”
James narrowed his eyes in confusion. “What do you think I’m doing? I’m here to collect you and Ava.”
It wasn’t like Liv hadn’t been expecting him. As had become routine over the years, James stopped in at Liv and Ava’s place every third Sunday evening to pick them up for Dinner Club. It was pointless taking two cars when they lived in the same block of flats and were all headed to the same place. “We have dinner tonight.”
“I didn’t ask what you were doing in the
flat
. I asked what you were doing in my
bedroom
.”
“Is that a trick question?” He tilted his head to the side, genuinely puzzled.
She glared at him.
“You invited me in.”
“I most definitely did not.”
“I knocked. You said come in.”
Liv folded her arms beneath her breasts in indignation. “I said I’m
coming
.”
It took James a good few seconds to respond. For the life of him, he could not string a sentence together. Not when Liv’s arms framed her breasts so perfectly. And what breasts they were—small, round and pert. Not even a handful by his estimation, but still enough to satisfy any man.
One glance was all it took to make him hard as a rock.
He curled his fingers into fists as an unexpected urge to touch her left him bewildered. Liv’s breasts may be a solid fifteen on a scale of one to ten, but they were Olivia’s, for fuck sake.
Liv’s
. His friend, his mate, his good buddy from way back when.
No way in hell should he be pondering how best to get his grubby paws on them.
“James!” the friend in question spluttered.
Ah, right. She expected a response to…
Crap
.
What had she just said?
He mentally scanned through their conversation.
Coming!
She’d said
coming
, not
come in
. “Shit, I’m sorry. My bad. I must have misunderstood.”
She shook her head in obvious disbelief, a quick short shake that sent her bobbed hair swinging from side to side, so the ends—which were slightly longer than the back—hit her chin.
He watched, fascinated, as the ceiling light shone down on her ash-blond strands, creating a halo effect. She looked like an angel. A gorgeous, sexy angel who made his dick ache and his balls heavy. “I swear…” He held his hands up, showing her his palms. “It was a mistake. I thought you invited me in.”
“And now?” she spluttered. “Do you still think that?”
“No.” He flashed her a remorseful smile. “But it’s pretty damn tough to regret being here.” Fully clothed, Liv was a good-looking woman. Bare-assed naked, she was magnificent.
Quick as a flash, she stuck her hand into the open drawer beside her and hurled something at James. It hit him in the face.
He blinked. “Did you just throw a pair of socks at me?”
“I don’t keep anything more solid in my underwear drawer, otherwise you can rest assured I’d have thrown that.”
“Great arm, Taylor.” Man, he was impressed with her aim. Impressed and proud. “You should take up cricket.”
The comment was one hundred percent sincere, so when another pair of socks hit him on the nose, he was a little…surprised. And, yeah, a lot aroused.
Olivia’s body twisted with the throw, outlining the sleek curve of her slim waist. Perhaps a little too slim for James’s usual liking, but that didn’t impede the pleasure he took from her bowling action. She looked startlingly beautiful sending the full toss in his direction. All sleek, toned flesh, silky hair swinging with the action and fire blazing from her eyes.
She took his breath away.
Or perhaps the third pair of socks, hitting him square in the throat, was responsible for that.
“Can you please get out of my room and let me dress in peace?” Liv stood armed and ready, two pairs of socks in each raised hand. Which, coincidentally, left her entire body exposed to his greedy gaze.
Flushed cheeks made her skin glow, and she gnawed on a lower lip that somehow looked a lot more luscious than it had the last time he’d seen her. Long, slim legs met at the juncture of her thighs—a juncture decorated with nothing more than a delicate strip of hair. Trim hips led to the sleek curves of her waist and a flat belly. Then there were the half-a-handful breasts. The ones with the tempting, dusky pink nipples.
Liv might be in need of a good burger to pack a bit of meat on her bones, but the knowledge didn’t prevent James from staring at her in wonder and, perhaps, a bit of awe. It also didn’t stop the lust pounding from his groin, moving through his veins and hitting every nerve ending in his body. Nor did it dim his bewilderment at finding himself fascinated with a woman he’d never thought of as more than a good friend.
He and Liv went way back. To university days. So did the six other mates they were meeting for dinner. As adults, they met every third Sunday and enjoyed a delicious meal together. It was their way of ensuring they stayed in touch when regular life interfered with their ability to see one another as often as they’d been able to while studying.
“I would leave,” he promised her. “Under ordinary circumstances, I’d turn around and walk out the room. But I, er, kind of can’t go anywhere now.”
Liv… Growled?
Seriously? A growl?
“Get out!”
“No, wait.” Again he held his hands, this time in surrender. “Honest to God. I can’t leave like this.”
“Like what?” she spat out, her exasperation visible.
He dropped his hands, gesturing at his groin. “Like this.”
Her gaze dropped, and her eyes popped open. “James!”
“I swear it’s not intentional.” He scrubbed a hand over his forehead, his erection pulsing. “Jeez, Liv, I can’t help it. You’re naked, you’re hot and I’m…well, I’m just a guy.” What man wouldn’t be brought to his knees by the sight of her?
A pair of socks hit him slap-bang between his ribs. “You’re a freaking perv is what you are.”
He stared in astonishment, relishing her bowler’s arm, her fighting spirit and yeah, her bouncing breasts. “God,” he said hoarsely, “I think I just fell a little bit in love with you.”
More socks sailed through the air, each one finding its target. “Out. Now.”
“You think I’m joking.” He shook his head, both in denial of the thought and in regret that she’d assume as much.
The next item she threw hit him on the shoulder with a hard
thunk
. Fleeting pain shot through his arm. “Ouch.”
“Nail polish,” she explained, wearing a smile that was not sweet.
He stared at her, perplexed. “I thought you didn’t have anything hard in there.”
“In there? I don’t. On top—” she gestured to the top of the chest of drawers, “—I have an arsenal of makeup.”
Thunk.
A can of deodorant hit him on the other shoulder, followed by a tube of…something.
God help him, with every fiery throw, he grew that little bit more aroused.
“Next one’s landing on your forehead,” she promised, and grabbed a bottle of body lotion.
“Okay, okay. You win.” He bowed his head in submission. Well, partly in submission, and partly because he was a horny son of a bitch and hungered to catch another glimpse of the thin strip of hair between her legs. Sexiest thing he’d ever seen. “I’m leaving.”
“Thank God for small miracles.”
Thank God, indeed. That sweet strip was a miracle of womanhood. He forced his gaze up to meet hers. The fire in her eyes and determination in her face made his heart hammer in time to his throbbing cock.
“Can I say one thing before I go?”
“If I don’t kill you first.”
The corners of his mouth twitched and he flashed her a smile. That was Liv. A fighter to the end.
“Don’t you dare smile at me.” She pointed at the door. “Comment and leave.”
James shook his head, his mind in a foggy cloud. Whatever he’d been about to say was forgotten. Damned if he could remember a thing when her nipples had hardened into beads and were pointing in the same direction as her finger.
“
James!
”
“Liv…”
“Leave.” She raised the lotion in threat.
“I’m going.” Somehow he managed to backtrack to the door.
“Close it behind you,” she demanded.
“Okay.” Ah, right. Now he remembered what he’d wanted to say. “Liv?”
“What?” she snapped.
Something inside of James unraveled, as though a tension he never knew he carried around with him had just eased. “You…you’re… Shit.” He swallowed, stunned by what he was about to say. No, stunned by how much he meant what he was about to say. “Y-you’re beautiful. Fucking gorgeous, really.”
She blinked in surprise. “James?”
“Yeah, pretty one?”
Liv smiled, sweetly this time. “I’m bringing arsenic with me to dinner. Better check your food before you eat it.”
