9
“Ian,” I breathed, and that was all the invitation he needed. He closed the gap between us and scooped me up, tossing me over his shoulder and stalking toward the back of the shop where his apartment was.
I stayed perfectly still, afraid he’d drop me if I moved. I wasn’t light, and even though Ian was strong, it was still very possible he’d drop me. His hand rested on my thigh, his fingertips teasing between my legs.
Oh, God. I was going to have s*x with Ian Jameson. And I hadn’t shaved in months.
We finally made it to his apartment, and he set me on my feet. He tilted my chin up with a fingertip. His hazel eyes blazed with heat, sending a matching fire through me. I wanted him. I wanted whatever he was willing to give me. Even if it was only one time, I wanted it.
“Tell me to stop,
