Wait for Me Read Online Free

coats and her purse in the closet and continued them on to the kitchen. 
    Kenya held a hand to her heart. “The windows…” She ran a hand over her hair, shooting a look between him and the glass doors. “I forgot how…pretty the view is from up here,” folding her arms her eyes darted around the place. Who had she thought he had there—another woman?
    “Looking for signs of another woman, Kenya?”
    “Huh—no,” she grumbled. “Where is Judge?”
    “In Ireland,” he said, moving them into the kitchen.
    The small bistro table sat in front of a patio door overlooking the river. Snow covered the deck, but the water sparkled under the waning evening.
    “Can I get you something to drink?” He held the beverage fridge door open. Kenya parted her lips to speak and he could feel a protest tightening his hand on the door. He couldn’t let her leave. Kenya touched his mind every day and he couldn’t pinpoint what it was about the stubborn woman that made her special.
    “All right, Blakemore, we can do this your way,” she said, pushing away from the table. She crossed behind him and washed her hands at the sink. Snatching a paper towel, she dried her hands. The pilot light ticked as she lit the burner and placed the kettle over the flame. “Do you have any leftovers?” she asked.
    “Taking over my kitchen?” he charged, following her padding around the large space. The sight of her moving around his kitchen so comfortably and efficiently brought life to his home. 
    He eyed her behind in the air as she bent over the vegetable drawer in the refrigerator. His mouth watered.
    “Did you make this meatloaf, Jonathan, or your chef?” she asked peering over her shoulder.
    “Chef…two days ago,” he told her as she sniffed the sealed container and made a shrug with her brows.
    “Then I’ll heat it up and make a spinach salad,” Kenya said, allowing him to help her to her feet. Setting the bag of greens then the tray of meatloaf down on the counter, he held both her hands. Walking her backward until her back hit the fridge; Jonathan pulled her arms over his shoulders and rested a hand on her warm hip hidden beneath the wool dress. Taking a moment, he caressed her face, running a thumb along her hairline. Sliding his fingers through the heavy length hanging over her shoulders, her peachy scent filled his nostrils. Tempted to drop to his knees and taste her luscious fruit, he blew out a frustrated breath.
    Smoothing along her curves he molded her voluptuous body under his hands, remembering her in his bed. Kenya’s moans and pleas had haunted him the last few weeks. Jonathan had to get her back. 
    “Do you regret sleeping with me?” He had to know how far off her radar he’d slid.
    “Jonathan, our lives are too different for anything more than this right here. It had nothing to do with having sex with you and you know it.” Kenya scowled. “You’re amazing,” she admitted, her fingers flexing along his ribs knowing if he pushed, she’d let him take her to bed.
    You’re not a dog, give her some space.
    He loosened his grip on her hands. “Hmm…” He groaned, "Is that all? We have different lives?”
    She gazed out the window and he waited, seeing her swallow and rub a hand over the pearls around her throat.
    “You can talk to me, Kenya. I’m still upset, but my feelings for you haven’t changed.”
    She slipped her hands from his; she rested them under her breast. Shaking her hair off her shoulder, she squared them. He caught the string of pearls between his fingers, rubbing the expensive necklace. Had another man stepped in while they were a part?
    “A gift?” He questioned for clarification. 
    She nodded. “My parents…for my promotion.”
    “They’re nice.” He drew them around her throat wanting to trail a kiss behind each black pearl. Raising his gaze to meet hers, he asked, “Why aren’t we a couple?”
    “Answer one question.”
    He leaned into the warmth of her hand on his cheek