Free The Do It List (The Do It List #1) by Jillian Stone Page B

up.
      “We’re eating at Noodles on 19th after class if you’d like to join.”
    “I have an inbox full of…” He cleared the husky arousal from his voice. “I have a good bit of email I should take a look at.”
    I nodded. Sure, what gorgeous single man wouldn’t want to hang out with me and my eight-year-old niece at a noodle shop on a Wednesday night? My grin fell a little flat. “Maybe another time.”
    Rising up to his full six feet two inches, he looked at me like a sex starved Paleo-man.  
    I feel you, Bradley.  
    I still tingled from his tongue play with my piercing. We were both fighting a bad case of horny-edgy.
    He opened the conference room door and half walked, half ran me toward reception. I had to stretch out my strides to keep up with him.
      “Listen, I’m sorry about challenging your research—”
    He took hold of my arm and swept me into an empty office. Riveted by his intense blue gaze, he backed me against the wall.
      “I want you to be difficult, provocative, questioning—put me through hell—whatever tests you need to do.” Weaving his fingers into my hair, he tugged me close. “Just know that I’m not going away, Gracie, so get used to it.”
    I expected a harsh passionate kiss, but he did not take me greedily. His lips brushed mine in a grazing caress. He cradled my head in his palm and licked along the sensitive curve of my upper lip in a slow, possessive assault that included soft nips and sensuous tongue play.
    When he finally broke off the kiss, my knees trembled and I gasped for air. The man literally took my breath away.
    He eased back and guided me back out the door. We split up at the elevators. “Have a pleasant evening. Say hello to Hannah.”

SEVEN

    SHAUN G BARKED out the first eight counts of the dance moves. “Once again, push back—one, two. Pull up and snap out—three, four.”
      Easily the most sought-after instructor at Chelsea Hip Hop, Shaun had returned from European tour a specimen of fitness with every visible muscle cut. Those high-set cheekbones and liquid-black eyes made him extra drool worthy. Ask any female in his class.
    Shaun rocked his hot body and we girls snapped out and rolled down low for the man.  
    “Gimme that ass shakin’ thing. Wobble right—and left.” Shaun counted. “Drop five, six—take it to the floor—seven, eight.”  
    I spotted Bradley in the middle of the second eight count. He sat on a bench in the gallery next to Hannah, whose little hands waved excitedly as she talked.
    Shaun pulled his body forward and we all followed. “Up for two—rock it low—three, four…”
      The sexy-sensuous Usher tune Good Kisser filled the room and we practiced the new moves at tempo.  
    Bradley wore black sweats, a gray tee and hoodie. The words Fight Klub UK ran up one of the arms. He looked younger and athletic, more of a jock. I’d never seen him out of a suit and the effect was stunning. Damp, ruffled hair and some beard stubble enhanced his casual hotness.  
    A shower of tingles ripped through the girly-parts. The same magnetic force I’d experienced in the elevator last night and the conference room this afternoon. The one that wouldn’t let go of me.
    And he appeared to be watching my groove with considerable interest. The mere memory of his nipple hardening under my tongue, and his ‘gimme more, baby’ groan made me dip a little lower. I wobbled side to side, rocking the move for the gorgeous sexy man who couldn’t take his eyes off me.
    After class I met Bradley and Hannah outside Chelsea Studios. He slung his gym bag over his shoulder and reached for mine. “You take Hannah’s.” Bags situated, we crossed Twenty-Sixth Street, and headed for the noodle shop.
    “How did you find us?”
    Bradley grinned. “I ran into Sarah at the gym. She helped with directions.”
    I nodded. “You belong to the Fitness Center at the pier. It’s such a great gym. Not sure why I don’t join.”
    “They have barre classes