A Matter of Trust by Lorhainne Eckhart Page B

to hell with
everything.
    Her eyes went right to the blanket around
his waist, his amazing pecs and his chest hair. It was enough that
she was dying to run her hands over him. She knew he was strong and
lean, and she found herself longing to lean into him, wanting to
feel all of him pressed against her.
    “Carrie, this isn’t a good time.”
    Boy, he looked annoyed, and she flushed,
knowing she had that effect on people. This was the first time it
really stung, though, coming from Ben. Maybe it was the look of
hurt on her face that made him reach out and put his hand on her
shoulder.
    “Get that wounded puppy look off your face,”
he said softly.
    “Why did you walk out on me last night after
I practically threw myself at you?” she said, and she wanted to pat
herself on the back for speaking up. Her throat thickened, though,
because once something was said, you couldn’t take it back. For a
moment, she worried about what he’d say.
     
    He let out a heavy sigh and pulled her
inside, closing the door. She was staring at the rumpled bed,
picturing herself there with him, warm under that duvet, skin to
skin. She had to stop this or she thought she’d go insane with
need.
    “Carrie, you really want to do this?” He
walked around her and touched his jeans, tossed over the back of
the chair.
    She opened her mouth to say something when
he started toward her, putting his fingers around her chin. His
thumb rubbed her lower lip, pressed between her teeth.
    “I told you not to do that,” he said.
    Her breath squeaked out from his touch. “I
don’t understand why you left, why you changed your mind. It hurt
me.”
    He shut his eyes for a second. When he
looked down at her again, her senses were reeling from his touch,
from being this close to him. The scent of him was so male and
delicious that it had her trembling.
    “If I’d known you’d never been with a man
before, it never would have gone as far as it did last night. You
terrified me, and I didn’t want to hurt you—and I would have. Let’s
get this straight: I want you very much.” He grabbed her hand and
pressed it against himself over the blanket, letting her know he
wanted her now.
    Her jaw dropped open, and she wondered how
red her face was. She could feel her cheeks burning.
    He shook his head. “You have no idea what
you do, you little tease. Right now, I want nothing more than to
toss you down on this bed and slide into all your softness, but you
have no idea what you’re in for.”
    “Maybe I do,” she said, and she swallowed,
hoping he wouldn’t toss her out the door. “Maybe this is what I
want.”
    She could feel how tightly he was holding
himself as he lowered his hand and took a step back, shaking his
head. She took one step closer to him, and when she put her hand
flat on his chest, she shut her eyes just to take in the feel of
him. The next thing she knew, she was flat on her back on the bed,
with Ben on top of her. She reached up and touched his face,
sliding her hand over his cheek, scraping over his whiskers, loving
the roughness against her soft skin.
    “Is this what you came for?” He yanked the
blanket from around himself and spread her jean-clad legs, pushing
them wide open, pressing against her. She knew then that she had to
have him. If he stopped now, she knew, without a doubt, that she
would wither away and die.
    She couldn’t get her tongue to move, and she
stared at his lips, willing him to take charge and lean down and
kiss her again. She loved the way he kissed, and maybe he was
reading her mind, because he did just that. It wasn’t gentle and
passionate anymore, though. It was hard and rough and overpowering,
and she loved it.
    He didn’t ask as he unbuttoned and unzipped
her jeans, pulling away long enough to slip her shoes and her
clothes off, all of them. It wasn’t sensual and slow like the night
before. There was an animal instinct about him.
    His eyes, the intensity in them, never left
hers. She watched him pull