Free All the Wright Moves by McKenna Jeffries and Aliyah Burke

light from her porch framed his physique. And just like that she was wet and could hardly focus on anything but what his touch allowed her to feel. How intense, how heady, how damn addicting he was.
    “Good lord,” she muttered, turning off the engine and climbing out. She couldn’t help it. He just looked…divine.
    He wore jeans, as he had today when he’d cornered her in her office. But instead of a T-shirt, he wore a long-sleeved crewneck shirt—her guess, to ward off the chill of the spring night. In one hand he had a bag that she assumed held their meal. Her stomach growled at the thought of food. Her pussy pulsed at the thought of after .
    Swallowing hard, she locked her car and met him at the base of the steps.
    “Hello, beautiful,” he murmured, before brushing their lips together in a gentle kiss.
    She almost dropped her keys. “H…hello.” This man has entirely too much magnetism for my own good .
    “Hungry?” he asked.
    “Starved,” she admitted, and she was. Today had been so busy all she’d grabbed was an apple from the kitchen.
    “Me too.”
    Those two words were delivered on silken velvet along with erotic decadent promise. Somehow she didn’t think he spoke of food. Another wave of heat slammed into her and her vision flickered. I have got to keep it together. Somehow she made it up to the door and unlocked it.
    “Come on in,” she said, stepping through and flipping on the living room light while turning off the one which illuminated her porch.
    He was right on her heels, taking up a lot of her air. She sat her purse down on the small mosaic table by the door and sighed. Her deep breath brought to her nose the evocative scent of Warwick. It was totally unfair for a man to smell so desirable. So fresh, pure and masculine. The notes teased her nose and made her want him even more.
    She swallowed hard and silently led the way to the kitchen. He unpacked the bag while she gathered plates and silverware then set the table.
    “How was the rest of your day?” he asked, glancing up from the bag.
    “Busy. Good, though. We’ve got a few more new classes that we’ll be starting.”
    “Great.” He dished up the rice pilaf and chicken before splitting up the steamed vegetables.
    She filled the glasses with ice water and sat down across from him. “How about with you?” My goodness, this is like we’re a married couple talking about our day. And that didn’t scare her like she thought it might.
    “Also busy. But time seemed to take forever to pass by.”
    His indigo eyes smouldered as they held hers. So intense and heated was his stare that her fork wobbled in her unsteady hand. Unsure of how to respond, she ate a bite of the chicken and chewed slowly.
    A masculine and knowing smile lifted his lips, showcasing those sexy dimples. He saluted her with his fork and dug into his own meal. The talk was polite as they ate. Unfortunately for her, it did nothing to cool down her craving for this man. The way he took food off the fork, the up and down bobbing of his Adam’s apple when he swallowed. How his mouth formed words when he spoke. All it did was increase her desire for him until it was almost unbearable.
    He got up and approached with two containers. “I didn’t know what you liked as far as dessert so you have two options. Chess pie and lemon cake.”
    She smiled. “Lemon cake.” Her eyes met his. “One of my favourites.”
    Warwick popped the top on the plastic container and set it before her. She licked her lips in anticipation. Three layers of lemon cake with creamy lemon frosting. One of her weaknesses.
    “This looks divine,” she said on a half moan.
    The sound of a chair sliding across her floor pulled her attention from the confection. Warwick had settled himself right beside her. He lifted her fork, cut into the cake and held it to her lips.
    “Open.” His command was a whispered thread of passion.
    She did. The cake had been done to perfection and seemed to melt in her