Chapter 94 The Hickey
Chapter 94 The Hickey
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Meatloaf seemed to know exactly where she was headed, tail wagging as it padded along behind her.
When Jonathan opened the door, he found Anneliese standing there with a bright smile, a big floppy–eared dog crouched obediently at her feet. Both the woman and the dog tilted their heads up at him. For no reason at all, his mood lifted. Stepping aside, he gave a faint smile. “Morning.”
He had clearly just finished his workout, showered, and changed into a crisp white dress shirt and ck suit pants. His hair was still damp, the cor loosely fastened with a tie, but the top two buttons undone, revealing a pale stretch of his neck and the sharp line of his corbone.
Anneliese’s eyes flicked up by ident,nding on the hollow of his throat. Her gaze caught on what looked unmistakably like a hickey. It wasn’t fresh–already fading at the edges—but still strikingly obvious. She could imagine just how heated it must have been when it happened.
Her eyes widened. <i>Oh </i><i>my </i><i>God</i><i>. </i><i>Am </i>I <i>really </i><i>seeing </i><i>this </i><i>first </i><i>thing </i><i>in </i><i>the </i><i>morning</i><i>?! </i>Look away<i>, </i>look away<i>! </i>
She quickly turned her head. “Good morning, Mr. Fullbuster. I’ll just leave this here and won’te in.”
She held out the breakfast she had brought. “I’lle backter to pick up the tray.”
Jonathan took it from her hands with a simple, “Thank you.”
Anneliese waved it off and was just about to turn away when his voice stopped her. “Wait.”
She nced back. He had already set the tray down on the console by the door and was pointing to the entryway system. “Come record your fingerprint.”
“Huh?” she blurted, startled. Why on earth would he need her fingerprint in his house?
“It’ll make it easier for you toe cook ahead of time,” Jonathan exined.
Anneliese realized it was no different from how housekeepers sometimes had ess set up. She stepped forward again, but once he’d finished setting it up, she hesitated.
“Hm?” Jonathan gave a soft questioning hum.
She bit her lip. “If I leave my fingerprint, won’t your girlfriend have a problem with that?” The whole thing just felt awkward.
Chapter 94 The Hickey
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Jonathan narrowed his eyes slightly. “My girlfriend?”
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Anneliese blinked, her gaze darting back to his throat. That hickey was so tant, right on his Adam’s apple. Judging by the cement, his girlfriend must be a very possessive woman.
He noticed where she was looking. Realization dawned, his expression shifting from confusion to teasing amusement. Quirking a brow, he tapped the spot on his throat, his eyes darkening as he drawled, “If you mean this, then I doubt she’d mind.”
Her eyes instinctively followed the motion of his fingertip. His fair skin made the kiss mark stand out even more, right above the small mole on his Adam’s apple. The rise and fall of his throat when he spoke made the fading bruise look even more suggestive, turning his usually austere, untouchable air into something dangerously enticing–like a sly fox luring prey in.
Anneliese’s cheeks med as she jerked her gaze away. <i>Why </i><i>is </i><i>he </i><i>pointing </i><i>it </i><i>out </i><i>to </i><i>me</i>? And <i>what </i><i>on </i><i>earth </i><i>does </i><i>that </i><i>even </i><i>mean</i><i>? </i>
A thought flickered in her mind, too quick to catch, and she asked dumbly, “Why wouldn’t she mind?”
Most women would be furious at the idea of another young woman freely entering their boyfriend’s home, no matter the reason.
“Because…” Jonathan’s lips curled with wicked amusement as his eyes bored into hers. “She’s right in front of me.”
Right in front <i>of </i>him?
Anneliese nced down at Meatloaf. The dog sat there staring up at her, ears perked. Clearly, there wasn’t anyone else here.
And then it hit her–the “she” he was referring to was her.
Her eyes widened, her toes curled against the floor, and her face burned hotter than ever. <i>I</i><i>–</i><i>I </i>was the one w–who left <i>that </i><i>ridiculously </i><i>obvious</i><i>, </i><i>feverishly </i><i>wild </i><i>hickey</i><i>?! </i><i>Oh </i>God, cut <i>my </i>tongue out! Why did I have to ask<i>? </i><i>This </i><i>is </i>so <i>mortifying</i><i>! </i>
Especially with his <i>gaze </i>still locked on her, unrelenting. The blush spread from her ears, threatening to set her whole body aze. If she stayed under his stare any longer, she was pretty sure she’d spontaneouslybust.
“Cr*p! I think I left the stove on at home. Meatloaf, let’s go!”
pping a hand to her forehead, she spun around and bolted for the elevator.
14:29 Fri<b>, </b>Sep 5
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