just done. He wanted her to feel good. And he wanted her to feel more. He wasn’t halfway finished with having her.
He pushed himself to his feet, disposed of the condom in the room’s attached bathroom, walked back into the bedroom buck naked just in time to see Melanie slip her feet into her shoes. He didn’t even stop to pick up his clothes. He headed straight for her, hooked an elbow around her neck and forced her head up. Her eyes were doe-wide and doe-bright, and she gasped.
“You scare me,” she said, but that was all she got out before he brought his mouth down on hers. He slanted one way, brushing his lips lightly at first, then with the pressure he’d been holding back. Her responsive nature made it hard to go slow.
But this time her response was to pull away, to stepback from his embrace, grab up her purse and the bag with her bathing suit. “I really need to go.”
“Go? Where?” What the hell? He frowned, bending down to grab his shorts and drawers and pull them both on. “You’re leaving? Just like that?”
She kept her gaze averted and headed for the bedroom door, digging in her bag for her car keys. “I’ve just…got to get home. I’ve got to go.”
He fastened his shorts, tossed his trunks back into his duffel and pulled on his T-shirt. This wasn’t happening. He didn’t believe this was happening. That she was running out after what they’d done here in this room, after having the sort of sex they’d just had.
Sex she’d been into just as much as he had, goddammit.
He was not going to start feeling guilty over…He didn’t even know where the idea of guilt was coming from. It wasn’t as if he was at fault here for whatever she was accusing him of. If she was accusing him of anything.
He didn’t know what was going through her head. He only knew he wasn’t going to let her get away without making things right.
Or not.
She was halfway through the door and obviously in no mood to talk. She hadn’t even looked back once. She’d just gotten up and dressed and the hell out of Dodge. Fine, he mused with more than a touch of irritation. He zipped up his duffel, stuffed his feet into his sandals and followed.
He’d just take Dodge to her.
J ACOB PULLED HIS TRUCK away from the curb and in behind Melanie’s sparkling black Infiniti Coupe. Hewas not about to let her pretend nothing had happened between them—even if what had happened between them was nothing but sex.
If she thought what they’d done was something she could turn her back on, well, that wasn’t going to happen. He had his pride, but he also had a strangely vested interest in Melanie now. As long as he didn’t lose her on the drive to her place, he planned to let her know the extent of that involvement.
He needed to do it before she could get on the phone with one of her girlfriends and “bond” over the size of his dick or the way he played too rough or whatever it was about sex and guys women gabbed about. He sure wasn’t going to call her up and gab about whatever was going on with her.
Yet knowing all that, he still wasn’t clear on why he was chasing her down, why he had this urgent need to set her straight. Pure selfishness on the part of his dick was undoubtedly the biggest reason. He wouldn’t work this woman out of his sexual system anytime soon.
And, sure. His pride was involved. He didn’t like thinking he’d disappointed her. Or left her dissatisfied. Ego or no, however, he knew that hadn’t happened. She’d come twice during the, what? Ten minutes they’d been in the bedroom? Fifteen tops?
Women didn’t come like that if they weren’t having fun. What he couldn’t figure was, if she’d been having all that fun, why the hell had she taken off the way she had? He hadn’t exactly kicked her dog or burned off her cat’s whiskers.
What he should do was back away, let her tuck her tail and go. It wasn’t like he was looking for a relationship. Sure. He could get off nicely on
He pushed himself to his feet, disposed of the condom in the room’s attached bathroom, walked back into the bedroom buck naked just in time to see Melanie slip her feet into her shoes. He didn’t even stop to pick up his clothes. He headed straight for her, hooked an elbow around her neck and forced her head up. Her eyes were doe-wide and doe-bright, and she gasped.
“You scare me,” she said, but that was all she got out before he brought his mouth down on hers. He slanted one way, brushing his lips lightly at first, then with the pressure he’d been holding back. Her responsive nature made it hard to go slow.
But this time her response was to pull away, to stepback from his embrace, grab up her purse and the bag with her bathing suit. “I really need to go.”
“Go? Where?” What the hell? He frowned, bending down to grab his shorts and drawers and pull them both on. “You’re leaving? Just like that?”
She kept her gaze averted and headed for the bedroom door, digging in her bag for her car keys. “I’ve just…got to get home. I’ve got to go.”
He fastened his shorts, tossed his trunks back into his duffel and pulled on his T-shirt. This wasn’t happening. He didn’t believe this was happening. That she was running out after what they’d done here in this room, after having the sort of sex they’d just had.
Sex she’d been into just as much as he had, goddammit.
He was not going to start feeling guilty over…He didn’t even know where the idea of guilt was coming from. It wasn’t as if he was at fault here for whatever she was accusing him of. If she was accusing him of anything.
He didn’t know what was going through her head. He only knew he wasn’t going to let her get away without making things right.
Or not.
She was halfway through the door and obviously in no mood to talk. She hadn’t even looked back once. She’d just gotten up and dressed and the hell out of Dodge. Fine, he mused with more than a touch of irritation. He zipped up his duffel, stuffed his feet into his sandals and followed.
He’d just take Dodge to her.
J ACOB PULLED HIS TRUCK away from the curb and in behind Melanie’s sparkling black Infiniti Coupe. Hewas not about to let her pretend nothing had happened between them—even if what had happened between them was nothing but sex.
If she thought what they’d done was something she could turn her back on, well, that wasn’t going to happen. He had his pride, but he also had a strangely vested interest in Melanie now. As long as he didn’t lose her on the drive to her place, he planned to let her know the extent of that involvement.
He needed to do it before she could get on the phone with one of her girlfriends and “bond” over the size of his dick or the way he played too rough or whatever it was about sex and guys women gabbed about. He sure wasn’t going to call her up and gab about whatever was going on with her.
Yet knowing all that, he still wasn’t clear on why he was chasing her down, why he had this urgent need to set her straight. Pure selfishness on the part of his dick was undoubtedly the biggest reason. He wouldn’t work this woman out of his sexual system anytime soon.
And, sure. His pride was involved. He didn’t like thinking he’d disappointed her. Or left her dissatisfied. Ego or no, however, he knew that hadn’t happened. She’d come twice during the, what? Ten minutes they’d been in the bedroom? Fifteen tops?
Women didn’t come like that if they weren’t having fun. What he couldn’t figure was, if she’d been having all that fun, why the hell had she taken off the way she had? He hadn’t exactly kicked her dog or burned off her cat’s whiskers.
What he should do was back away, let her tuck her tail and go. It wasn’t like he was looking for a relationship. Sure. He could get off nicely on
Similar Books
