Living with Her Ex-Boyfriend (The Loft Book 2) Page 17

  Steve had started to shake, and he ducked his head to hide his face in a pillow.

  Michelle stared at him in astonishment. “Steve? Are you okay? Are you... are you crying?”

  His body was shuddering helplessly. She had no idea what was going on.

  Then he lifted his head, and she saw the shattering blaze of joy on his face. “Am I crying? Are you serious? You think I don’t want this anymore?”

  He hadn’t been crying. He’d been laughing.

  He was so happy he could hardly contain it.

  Michelle was filled with joy now too, and it came spilling out of her in a giggle. “Oh. Okay. Good. So that’s a yes?”

  He grabbed her in a hard, passionate hug. “Yes, kitten. It’s a yes. I’d love to start looking at houses with you.”

  “It’s fine if it takes a while,” she said against his shoulder. “We want to find the right one at the right price. I love this apartment, and I love Chloe and Brent. I’m not in a big hurry to move out, but I want us to start moving forward. So let’s start looking.”

  “It’s a deal.”

  Michelle did end up being a few minutes late for class, and she was flushed and a little bit flustered when she got there.

  She did a great job on her presentation, and she was living the life she’d always wanted to live. Being a few minutes late wasn’t going to bother her anymore.

  AUTHOR’S NOTE: The next book in The Loft series will be Living with Her Fake Fiancé about Chloe and Brent. My next release will be Practice Husband, the second book of the Trophy Husbands series, which will come out on August 21st. You can find an excerpt on the following pages.

  If you’d like to receive updates on my sales and new releases, be sure to sign up for my newsletter list here.

  Excerpt from Practice Husband

  WE’VE TURNED A CORNER on the sidewalk, and I look around at the cars, the buildings, the people walking around us. “Where are we going, anyway?”

  Hunter nods at a motorcycle parked between two cars at the curb. “We’re going there.”

  I pull to a stop. “What?”

  “You want to ride a motorcycle. Don’t deny it ’cause I know you do. So here you go.”

  I reach out to hold on to his arm, my knees suddenly shaky. “Is that yours?”

  “No. It’s a buddy’s. I don’t actually have a vehicle at the moment, but he’s letting me borrow this for a week or two. But here’s your chance.”

  “But... but...” I don’t know anything about motorcycles, but I recognize the Harley-Davidson logo. We’ve moved closer now, and it looks huge.

  Huge.

  Far too huge to ride.

  Hunter has that little smirk on his face, unconcealed by the dark beard. “You said you wanted to start living life. So get your little ass on the seat.”

  My shoulders stiffen. “I don’t have a little ass!” I’m not sure why I say that. It’s pretty stupid. But my heart is hammering, and my mind is whirling, and I feel unsteady on my own feet.

  I’m not used to feeling that way.

  “Yeah, you do.” His eyes take a leisurely stroll over my body, lingering on my butt.

  “I do not!” As I mentioned, my body is quite curvy, and my ass is the curviest part.

  “Angel, I can fit your little ass in my hands.”

  The nickname hits me hard, since he used to call me angel occasionally in high school. It was never an affectionate endearment, no matter how it might sound. It was funny, teasing. I was an angel because I was always trying to be good, always trying to do the right thing, never getting into any sort of trouble.

  But still... It triggers memories that mean a lot to me.

  Struggling to focus on the argument at hand, I say coolly, “No, you can’t.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yes, I’m sure.”

  He takes a step closer to me, and I suck in a breath.

  Waiting.

  Flushed.

  Trembling.

  “Well?” he demands.

  “Well what?”

  “Well, do you want me to test it? You wouldn’t let me hug you before, so I’m not gonna put my hands on your ass unless you say I can.”

  “Oh.” I must be as red as a beet now, but this feels like a challenge, and I’m not going to let him win. “Sure. Go ahead and test it.”

  I’m holding my breath as he eases even closer. Then he reaches out and spans the side of my ribs with his big hands. They slide down slowly to my hips, over the pretty pink top Chelsea bought me. Then they’re on my jeans, moving over the snug denim until they’re curving around my butt.

  I really can’t believe it, but my butt does kind of fit in his hands. Not every inch is covered, over course, but I feel his fingertips where my ass meets the back of my thighs, and the heels of his hands are pushing into the top of the curve.

  Hunter Ness is holding my ass in his hands.

  My cheeks burn, and all my female parts are clenching excitedly.

  Way too excitedly.

  I shouldn’t be reacting this way.

  Hunter’s body feels kind of tense, but he still has that smirk on his face. He’s not making a move on me. He’s just teasing.

  He’s always just teasing.

  I clear my throat and step back, causing him to drop his hands. “Don’t gloat,” I say.

  He chuckles. “Wouldn’t dream of it.” His body seems to have relaxed now, but nothing in my body is relaxing anytime soon. “So now that we’ve got that settled, get your little ass on the seat.”

  I turn to look at the motorcycle again, trying to control what’s going on inside my body.

  And I can’t.

  I can’t control it.

  If I get on that motorcycle with Hunter, it will get even worse.

  I shake my head with a little smile. “I don’t think so.”

  “Why not?” he demands with a frown. “You want to ride a motorcycle, and now you can.”

  “I know. But I don’t need to do it right now. I’ve never done it before.”

  “I’d be with you.”

  I clench my hands and try to sound casual. “I know. But I don’t know what I’m doing, and I don’t want to embarrass myself in front of the whole city.”

  “Ah. Well, maybe later. When it’s just us.”

  That sounds like a promise.

  A good one.

  YOU CAN FIND OUT MORE about Practice Husband here.

  About Noelle Adams

  NOELLE HANDWROTE HER first romance novel in a spiral-bound notebook when she was twelve, and she hasn’t stopped writing since. She has lived in eight different states and currently resides in Virginia, where she writes full time, reads any book she can get her hands on, and offers tribute to a very spoiled cocker spaniel.

  She loves travel, art, history, and ice cream. After spending far too many years of her life in graduate school, she has decided to reorient her priorities and focus on writing contemporary romances. For more information, please check out her website: noelle-adams.com.

  You can find a printable version of a complete book list for Noelle Adams here.