That Man 2 Read Online Free Page A

series too. Beautiful Bastard.”
    Now, there was a title I could connect to. “So, Ms. McCoy, please give me a rundown of the focus groups and your activities in Vegas.”
    Without wasting a second, she launched into the schedule she had planned over the weekend, which included observing focus groups, attending a book signing event, and meeting with various writers. It was hard for me to concentrate on what she was saying with her next to me in my bed. I had the burning urge to rip off every stitch of her clothing and flip her on top of me. My cock was in an uproar, but the thick duvet hid what was going on beneath.
    She continued to babble on, oblivious to my arousal. My eyelids lowered. And then I groaned. She stopped short in the middle of a sentence. Her eyes were wide with alarm. Perfect. I groaned again, this time louder.
    “Oh my God. What’s the matter, Blake?”
    “I think I’m having a relapse.” My voice was a raspy whisper. “My doctor said this could happen.” I groaned yet again, this time adding a shudder.
    “Oh no!” Terror filled her voice. “What can I do?”
    “I feel so fucking hot.” Oh, did I! “Would you be kind enough to sponge me down.” And give me mouth-to-mouth resuscitation.
    “Of course. Where’s your bathroom?”
    “Over there.” I weakly pointed to a door opposite my bed and groaned once more.
    She leapt up from my bed, and in a heartbeat, she was back with a large sponge in her hand. She sat back down on my bed and dabbed the moistened sponge on my face. She was so close I feel her warmth.
    “How does that feel?” she asked.
    “So good, Jennifer.” Her touch was gentle and loving. I longed for her lips on mine.
    She palmed my forehead. “I think you’re cooling down.”
    Not. I was heating up. Yet another loud groan. “It’s like there’s a fire in my body.” Raging in my groin. I pulled the duvet down to my hips. “Jennifer, would you mind sponging down the rest of me?”
    I sat up a little, and without a word, she helped me off with my pajama top. With each button she undid with her nimble fingers, an inner firework went off. A chain reaction of scintillating sparks. I lowered myself to my fluffy pillow and kept my eyes on her as she soaked in my bare chest. She was clearly in awe of my chiseled pecs, defined six-pack, and that perfect pelvic V that peeked out from the covers. Working out had its benefits.
    Taking the sponge back in her hand, she began to run concentric circles around my taut flesh. Slow and sensual. I closed my eyes and moaned with pleasure. Beneath the covers, I had a serious boner.
    “Oh, Blake, are you in pain?” Her voice was soft, a mixture of compassion and concern.
    I opened my eyes halfway. “Just a little.” My balls were aching and my cock was blazing. I so wanted her. My angel.
    Shutting my eyes again, I let her rub away. She sensuously sponged every part of my upper body as well as my muscled arms. I savored every stroke.
    About ten minutes into the body wash, I took the sponge out of her hand and sat up. “I feel much better now. I can’t thank you enough.”
    Her eyes connected with mine. The air between us was charged with electricity. “It’s okay. It’s the least I could do.”
    “Why don’t you stay for dinner? I have a ton of delicious food my mother sent over.” And breakfast too?
    Tension swept over her angelic face. She glanced down at her watch. “I can’t. I promised Bradley I’d meet him for dinner since I won’t be seeing him this weekend.”
    Fucking Dickwick. Every muscle in my body tensed. My cock sunk like the Titanic.
    She gathered her things and stood up from the bed. I was too debilitated to see her out.
    “You should stay home tomorrow, Blake. I’m sorry you won’t be at the focus groups, but I’ll keep you posted with the results.”
    “Thanks,” I mumbled as she padded toward the door and disappeared.
    I sunk back in my bed feeling sicker than I’d felt all week.
    *
    I couldn’t get