The following text is an excerpt from the novel Can’t Stand the Heat. The excerpt is from the time that Jordan and LIbby are locked in the cellar – a cold-storage closet in Jordan’s restaurant.
JORDAN:
She shivered hard against his ribs. It was chilly in the cellar and he forgot that he was wearing a jacket and she wasn’t. “Oh shit, Libby, you’re cold.” He rubbed his hands up and down her arms. “Come here.” He tucked both of her arms around his body under his jacket and pulled her close against his ribs. He rubbed his hands up and down her back. She shivered again. He felt her legs through her thin pants. She was cold all over.
“Stand up and jog in place or do some jump squats or something,” he said. “We need to warm your muscles.” He did the same for about 30 seconds and then he reached past her to grab a jar of peanut butter. It was half full and had a spoon inside. He handed her the spoon. “Eat some of this. Digestion the fat will burn calories which will warm you a little inside.” There were a few jugs of distilled water on one of the upper shelves. He pulled two down. “Here’s some water to wash down the peanut butter.”
“Nanks,” she said, her mouth sticky from the peanut butter. He watched her lick the spoon and his cock decided that it knew how to keep them both warm. Bad cock.
She dug out another spoon full of peanut butter and handed him the spoon. “You’d better eat some. We’re going to have to throw it out after this.” She took another swig of water and asked him, “What time is it?”
He licked the spoon and looked at his watch. “1:30,” he said. “5 ½ hours to go.”
He handed her back the spoon, loaded with peanut butter. “If you don’t mind eating after me,” he said.
She took it. “Come on. How many times have we drank out of the wrong cup. Too many waters in the kitchen.”
LIBBY:
He smiled and held up her hand with the half-licked peanut butter. Then he licked it, looking her straight in the eyes.
Why him? she asked herself. Why was he the one that made her tingle from breasts to panties? She liked him. She respected him. And he was her boss.
“Maybe we should get some sleep,” she said. “We do have to work tomorrow.”
He stuck the spoon back in the peanut butter and started taking off his jacket. He was such a gentleman.
Then he took off his t-shirt. Just rip. One second, he was standing there in his shirt and the next she was looking at his bare, naked, muscled, hair-dusted chest. “Here,” he said, coming toward her. She forced her feet not to move. Not that there was anywhere she could go.
He placed the shirt over her head and held it up for her arms. “This will give you an extra layer. I’ll keep the jacket on because if I wear it, you can still put your arms inside it. Then we both have toasty arms.”
She just looked at him. Her tongue was stuck to the roof of her mouth and the peanut butter had nothing to do with it. She turned to the shelf to get the jug of water. She took a big swig and tested her mouth again. “Thanks. Good idea,” she croaked.
He had turned and was rearranging the bags of flour and rice. He scooted them down so that they were flat on the floor, making an insulated, cushioned pallet for them to sleep. She watched the muscles of his back bunch as he lifted the heavy bags like they were nothing. Her ribs constricted at the beauty of his body.
When he finished, he sat down. “How do you usually sleep?” he asked.
“On my back,” she said.
He grinned mischievously. “I could climb on top of you. You might not get any sleep, but I guarantee you’ll be warm.”
She felt her cheeks get warm and a rush of heat zip to her panties. He was so sexy. She had dreamed of spending the night in his arms. For a while before she dated Carl. With Carl, she had squashed the fantasies. Like she did now.
He held on to her hand. “Just come put your arms around me and try to get comfortable.”
She swallowed and went down on her knees slowly on the flour bag next to him. She put one hand beside his ribs and lowered herself on her side beside him, resting her hand across his stomach. She felt the ridges of his six-pack. Holy shit. Holy shit. She touched her body to his as little as possible.
He laid very still until she stopped moving. Then he released a huff of air and said, “We have to share body heat, Libby. Especially when we fall asleep and our core temperatures drop.” He pulled her body mostly across his. Her right leg slipped between his and he tucked both of her arms along his ribs. She felt the muscles of his back move beneath her hands. Her breasts were plastered against his ribs and chest.
He pulled the stretchy athletic jacket around her and leaned up a little to zip it.
His muscles bunched beneath her breasts and his movement scooted her down his body a fraction. When he rested his head back against the flour sack, she felt his erection against her hip.
She jerked, and he held her still. “Never mind that. I’m not going to take advantage of you.”
She looked up at his face. His blue eyes were darker than she’d ever seen them. His lips were slightly swollen. He shrugged a shoulder. “A beautiful, sexy woman rubs herself against my bare chest, and my cock is going to want to join the fun. It can’t be helped.”
She sat very still. Of course. He was just turned on because there was a woman in his arms. He wasn’t hot for her. Not the man that dated the prom queen.
She laid her head on his chest. She wasn’t going to feel sorry for herself. She was damaged. He could do way better than her. She took in a deep breath, but her nose was flooded with the scent of him. He had worked hard in a hot kitchen for hours. There was no cologne or scented deodorant left on his skin. His chest smelled like the ocean before a storm. The scent was rich, green, and threatening. She turned her head and shifted her legs.
He held her hips still. “It’s best that you don’t move around too much.”
Was he still hard? When she paid attention, she thought she could feel him on the spot where her stomach curved in from her hip. She took a deep breath, expanding her stomach, and then letting the breath out. She felt his dick jump against her stomach.
“If you keep doing that, this is going to be a very long night,” he said.
She looked up at him again. “It’s only fair that I get to ask you the same question you asked me before.” He looked down at her, and in the single light bulb above them, she saw flecks of silver dance in his eyes. “When was the last time you, uh, had an orgasm?” She was very uncomfortable talking about sex with this man, but managed to get the words out.