bed. Now.”
One of her least favorite parts about her Hollywood job was being bossed around. Told what to do as if she were some sort of robot that lived only to serve at her master’s pleasure. It wasn’t her thing.
Apparentlyunless she wanted the order.
Unless she craved the order.
There was a scrape of wood on the floorboards. The cane. She had forgotten his injury. His leg. Even his scarred hands. All she knew was the core of the man awoke something in her, primal, wild as his name.
Tomorrow the world could burn. Tonight was theirs.
She slid free, feeling him release her with tangible regret. Walkingto the bedroom, she climbed on the mattress, running her hand up a bedpost. Soon she’d run her hand up him and the idea of his shaft against her palm made her clamp her knees together—the anticipation almost too intense to bear.
He took his time approaching. When he was close enough, he set the cane against the wall and limped closer, covering her hand on the post for a moment before reachingout to grab her wrist. There was a sense he marked his territory, staked his claim before reaching down to shove open his jeans.
“Want you to kneel.”
Goose bumps broke out along the base of her spine. This was happening fast, but that’s what she wanted, right? What she asked for. Rough anonymous sex. Or mostly anonymous. Except for the fact she had just spent the night with his whole family.That she knew the intimate details of his bookshelf. That she’d slept in his bed last night and could still remember the scent on the pillowcase. Clouds must have moved because moonlight appeared—suddenly she could see a little more, she could see . . . him.
He froze as if sensing her hesitancy.
It was like her body split into two, one part urging, “Go on, hurry up and do it already,”while the other took a step backward, whispering, “Hang on, what if there is more going on here? More than sex, more than tonight?”
The two opposing parts broke into a furious wrestling match, clawing, gnawing, biting, and generally rattling her brain loose.
“Something changed,” he said gently.
She flinched. “I’m not sure if I’m a one-night-stand sort of person after all.” The “doit” part of her brain shook a fist, howling, “Good God, woman, we’d be getting pleasured by a hot-as-hell badass if it wasn’t for you and your meddling morals.”
She pressed her knees to her chest, setting her chin down at the place they met. “I’m sorry.” Her heart pounded in her ears. “I’m not sure what I want to do here.”
“No.” He fixed himself, zipping his pants with a wince. “I shouldbe the one to apologize. It’s been . . . a while. Guess I got carried away.”
Her gaze jerked to his. “No, really, I pushed.”
“I started it.”
She closed her eyes briefly. “Are we having some sort of guilt-off competition?”
He grunted, not without a trace of humor. “It’s a specialty of mine.”
“Well, consider yourself up against a grand master,” she said with a rueful laugh.“I will meet your apology with a shirt-wrenching, teeth-gnashing plea for forgiveness.”
“You don’t strike me as the kind of person who lives with a lot of regret.”
“Really, that’s your impression of me?”
He ran a hand up her arm in a light, gentle touch. “A bright spark. Beautiful. Happy. Confident.”
Maybe she picked the wrong job in Hollywood. “Smoke and mirrors.”
“Hrumph.Maybe I should borrow a little for myself.”
“Would you do something for me?” She inched closer.
“What’s that?”
She patted the side of the bed. “Come here. Be next to me. We don’t have to sleep together to sleep together. Maybe I’m not ready to go whole hog, but what about cuddling?”
“Cuddling?” His breath sounded labored.
“Don’t be so dismissive.”
“I’m not, it’s just that. . . no one has ever asked me to before. I don’t exactly have a reputation as the warm and cuddly type.”
“Or no
One of her least favorite parts about her Hollywood job was being bossed around. Told what to do as if she were some sort of robot that lived only to serve at her master’s pleasure. It wasn’t her thing.
Apparentlyunless she wanted the order.
Unless she craved the order.
There was a scrape of wood on the floorboards. The cane. She had forgotten his injury. His leg. Even his scarred hands. All she knew was the core of the man awoke something in her, primal, wild as his name.
Tomorrow the world could burn. Tonight was theirs.
She slid free, feeling him release her with tangible regret. Walkingto the bedroom, she climbed on the mattress, running her hand up a bedpost. Soon she’d run her hand up him and the idea of his shaft against her palm made her clamp her knees together—the anticipation almost too intense to bear.
He took his time approaching. When he was close enough, he set the cane against the wall and limped closer, covering her hand on the post for a moment before reachingout to grab her wrist. There was a sense he marked his territory, staked his claim before reaching down to shove open his jeans.
“Want you to kneel.”
Goose bumps broke out along the base of her spine. This was happening fast, but that’s what she wanted, right? What she asked for. Rough anonymous sex. Or mostly anonymous. Except for the fact she had just spent the night with his whole family.That she knew the intimate details of his bookshelf. That she’d slept in his bed last night and could still remember the scent on the pillowcase. Clouds must have moved because moonlight appeared—suddenly she could see a little more, she could see . . . him.
He froze as if sensing her hesitancy.
It was like her body split into two, one part urging, “Go on, hurry up and do it already,”while the other took a step backward, whispering, “Hang on, what if there is more going on here? More than sex, more than tonight?”
The two opposing parts broke into a furious wrestling match, clawing, gnawing, biting, and generally rattling her brain loose.
“Something changed,” he said gently.
She flinched. “I’m not sure if I’m a one-night-stand sort of person after all.” The “doit” part of her brain shook a fist, howling, “Good God, woman, we’d be getting pleasured by a hot-as-hell badass if it wasn’t for you and your meddling morals.”
She pressed her knees to her chest, setting her chin down at the place they met. “I’m sorry.” Her heart pounded in her ears. “I’m not sure what I want to do here.”
“No.” He fixed himself, zipping his pants with a wince. “I shouldbe the one to apologize. It’s been . . . a while. Guess I got carried away.”
Her gaze jerked to his. “No, really, I pushed.”
“I started it.”
She closed her eyes briefly. “Are we having some sort of guilt-off competition?”
He grunted, not without a trace of humor. “It’s a specialty of mine.”
“Well, consider yourself up against a grand master,” she said with a rueful laugh.“I will meet your apology with a shirt-wrenching, teeth-gnashing plea for forgiveness.”
“You don’t strike me as the kind of person who lives with a lot of regret.”
“Really, that’s your impression of me?”
He ran a hand up her arm in a light, gentle touch. “A bright spark. Beautiful. Happy. Confident.”
Maybe she picked the wrong job in Hollywood. “Smoke and mirrors.”
“Hrumph.Maybe I should borrow a little for myself.”
“Would you do something for me?” She inched closer.
“What’s that?”
She patted the side of the bed. “Come here. Be next to me. We don’t have to sleep together to sleep together. Maybe I’m not ready to go whole hog, but what about cuddling?”
“Cuddling?” His breath sounded labored.
“Don’t be so dismissive.”
“I’m not, it’s just that. . . no one has ever asked me to before. I don’t exactly have a reputation as the warm and cuddly type.”
“Or no
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