Page 51 of I Hate You More

And the biggest problem was that although Ruby was smart enough to realize how dangerous that was, she wasn’t nearly smart enough to do anything about it.

Chapter 13

“If you slide your hand a little further up my leg, you’ll find that I’m wearing a much more interesting pair of underwear today.”

Spencer, whose fingers had been negligently caressing the soft curve of Ruby’s calf, didn’t raise his head. “I can’t. It’s too much work. Why don’t you take them off and show them to me.”

Ruby gave a low chuckle, but that was the extent of her movement. “Are you kidding? If I bend that direction, I’m never getting up again.” She paused. “I could describe them to you, if it helps.”

Even though every bone in Spencer’s body felt as though it had been forcibly extracted, ground up, and then reinserted, he felt a stirring of interest. But only a veryslightinterest. When Eva and Maury got back from their weekend away, they’d better not be pregnant again. The world couldn’t handle any more of these children. It would collapse under the groaning weight of all that energy.

“You can go ahead. I’m going to close my eyes for a minute.”

He made good on his threat. The pair of them were entangled on the couch in Eva’s living room. Once upon a time, it had been overstuffed and blue, but like most of the furniture in this house, it was now a weary, flattened gray. Spencer could relate. Since they’d returned from his parents’ house, the boys had used this couch as a trampoline, the foundation for a fort, a wrestling mat, a place to hide the broccoli they refused to eat for dinner, and a mounting block for Wheezy in an attempt to ride him around the living room. The dog had enjoyed that about as much as he and Ruby had, so it was no surprise the golden retriever was also collapsed in one corner, unable to lift so much as an eyebrow.

With his head back against a throw pillow that had also seen better days, Spencer gave himself over to the sensation of being entwined with the softest woman he’d ever touched. It was a good thing their first sexual encounter had taken place on strictly separated sides of a room, because there was no way he’d have lasted as long as he did if she’d been within arm’s reach. He didn’t know what she did to her skin to make it so silken or how a body that had the same muscles and sinew as his could feel so endlessly supple, but the parts he could reach—ankles and calves and an enticing bit of thigh just above her knee—were like falling into a cloud.

“They’re black, for starters. Black lace, but just a tiny scrap that barely covers anything.”

The stirring of interest picked up again. Spencer wasn’t sure how. After a day of babysitting and dog training and dealing with his parents’ disappointment that he wasn’t Caleb, he couldn’t even think about sex.

Sex, however, wasdefinitelythinking about him.

“When you see them from the front, they look like pretty much any other panties. Low on my belly, scalloped edges along my hip bones, the usual. But from behind—oh, Spencer, you have no idea what they do from behind.”

Maybe not, but he could imagine it. Of all Ruby’s perfectly formed body parts—and there were a lot to choose from—her ass was the one that intrigued him the most. She was a highly active woman, juggling her career and dog training and the Wilson brothers as though they were nothing, and she had the build to prove it. He’d already imagined what it would feel like to grab her by the hips and hold her close; adding the image of black lace was all that was needed to send him over the edge.

“Please don’t,” he begged. His hand clutched just above her knee, his fingers making soft impressions in the sleek expanse of flesh he encountered there. “I don’t have the energy to appreciate them properly. All you’re doing right now is torturing me.”

Her legs fell open a fraction. It wasn’t enough to fully widen her thighs and give him access to the warmest, most enticing parts of her, but it was close enough to count.

“I mean it,” he said, sitting up enough so that he could run his hand further up her thigh. She hissed and sank deeper into the couch cushions to give him better access. “Ruby, I’ll die if I hear anything more about lace or how it looks on you.”

Either she didn’t hear him or she didn’t care, because she gave a low chuckle and continued taunting him.

“It barely counts as underwear, really. There’s just enough fabric to frame my ass but not enough to cover it. If you were to slide your hand up a few inches, you’d see what I mean. Just a wisp, a hint, a delicate vee shape that highlights the curves of my—”

His fingers dug deeper. “Not curves. No curves. I’m begging you.”

She scooted her body closer to his. “So many curves, Spencer. Round, taut ones. Soft, supple ones. Ones that jiggle when you smack them.”

Spencer groaned. The interest that had been stirring inside him was now fully shaken. Being near this woman always made him acutely aware of what his blood was doing and where it was going, but actually having her in his lap, her legs spreading open for him, his fingers so close to—

His fingers stopped. “Wait a minute. That doesn’t feel like lace.”

Ruby snapped her legs together in an attempt to prevent him from making a further exploration between her thighs, but it was too late. He’d already reached fabric and the warm, intoxicating heat of her. All she was doing was trapping him in place. He twitched his fingers against the gusset of her panties.

“Uh, I’m no expert, but that feels like cotton.”

“It’s cheap lace,” she protested but with a laugh in her voice. “I never said they were expensive. I like to make them easy to rip off.”

There was enough room for him to run a finger along the edge of the fabric. He was well aware that he was stroking a lot more than her underwear at this point, his touch grazing the gentle folds of her body, but he was a man on a mission.

“This feels likea lotof cotton,” he said as he gave her panties a gentle tug. His forefinger grazed against her clit, which caused a low moan to escape her. As enticing as that sound was and as much as he wanted to follow up on it, he curled his hand to cup her mons instead. His palm lay flat against the front of her, his entire hand reaching between her legs and toward her ass. It was a position he could have held for hours, but he needed to make sure of something first.

It didn’t take him long to find what he was looking for. No matter which way he turned his hand or how far up he waggled his fingers, one thing remained the same. “What you’re wearing, Ruby Taylor, is no wisp of anything.”

Shifting his body so he was no longer pinned underneath her, he used his free hand to lift the skirt of her sundress and peer at whatever was happening underneath. Ruby squealed and tried to hold the fabric down, but Spencer’s energy was almost back to its full strength.