“What the hell did you do that for?" Nursing his sore tongue, Jared stepped away from the table. Cleo began reboxing the pizza. Jared McCloud had rattled her bones. If she thought too hard, she'd realize she was shaking. "You might want to take the rest of this back to your brother." She closed the cardboard lid and shoved the box at him. Men never touched her unless she let them. Why had she let him? She'd better figure it out quick, because she wanted his hands on her again. They'd been strong..., competent, reassuring hands, and she could easily deceive herself into believing they were caring ones. No man had ever kissed her like that. Or maybe she'd never been kissed by a real man. The possibility that Jared was the kind of man she'd never known shivered her down to her toes. She didn't need this. His eyes narrowed as he studied the box, studied her, then focused his gaze on an aroused part of her anatomy she'd rather not reveal. If her flannel shirt had been nearby, she'd put it on. He was entirely too good at seeing beyond the obvious.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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