trying to back away, but he grabbed the arms of her chair and held her solidly in place. Stacey gathered all the courage she could muster. As much as she wanted to believe otherwise, it was a possibility she had to consider, even if it did turn that sweet ache in her chest into a sharp pain.
“Come on, Johnny. What else could it be?” she shrugged. “I’m physically handicapped, not stupid. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate everything, but let’s not pretend it’s more than it is.”
Stacey held her breath. Deep within, her heart pounded furiously, waiting for his reaction.
She didn’t have to wait long before she got it.
His eyes flashed. His jaw clenched. The tendons in his forearms began to bulge. Johnny released the hold he had on her chair and took a few steps back. She saw the anger clearly now, and something else, too: hurt.
* * *
H er casual comments hit him like a sucker punch to the gut. Just moments ago he’d been thinking about how she’d managed to burrow under his skin, make him start thinking all kinds of crazy shit, like cutting work and spending the day with her, doing something other than fucking her into lassitude again (though if she had insisted on spending the day getting hot and heavy, he would have manned up).
Because yeah, sex with Stacey was good. Scary good. There had been a connection of more than body parts there. He didn’t pretend to understand it, but he didn’t have to understand it to know that that kind of shit didn’t happen often.
In his case, it had been a first.
So what was this crap about babysitting? Did she really believe that was what he was doing? Had she not felt the same things that he did? Had she not experienced the same shift in her world? Did she think that he made a habit of fucking scared, frightened women into ecstasy, or holding them through hellish nightmares while his chest ached on her behalf?
Okay, so maybe he wouldn’t be winning any awards for abstinence. There had been a fair number of women in his life, but nothing serious. Never once had he felt anything even remotely close to what he had with Stacey. And he certainly never hung around long enough to cuddle .
Forty-eight hours ago he’d come here to get drunk and forget the rest of the world existed. This morning, he’d realized the niggling, anxious feeling that had been plaguing him was gone. And it had done its disappearing act right about the same time he’d slipped into bed with a cherry-scented hellcat.
Maybe she was right. Maybe he was overthinking it. Maybe it was simply a matter of focusing on someone else besides himself. With Lina happily married and Michael back in town for the foreseeable future, he didn’t have as much to worry about. But even as he considered that possibility, he felt the wrongness of it. What he’d been feeling wasn’t just a result of self-reflection.
Exactly what it was remained to be seen, but it was something. Something that sure as hell deserved a chance. Was it sudden? Hell, yes, it was sudden. Like being T-boned by a goddamn semi at full speed right out of the blue. But Johnny had never been one to hang back and overanalyze. When he saw something he wanted, he went for it. Period. And right now, he wanted Stacey, not just in his bed, but out of it, too.
Apparently, that hadn’t come through. Somewhere along the line, she decided he was keeping time with her out of a sense of ... what, exactly? Duty? Responsibility? Pity?
One look in Stacey’s tormented eyes and he knew that was exactly what she thought.
Christ, he felt like a fucking idiot. Why would she think anything else? She was a successful author. Brilliant. Beautiful. Smart. What did she see when she looked at him? A pleasant but temporary diversion? A perk, a bennie, right up there with the hot tub and the view?
It didn’t feel right, but what the hell did he know? Christ, for a couple of moments there, he’d thought she might be The One . Maybe she was. But
“Come on, Johnny. What else could it be?” she shrugged. “I’m physically handicapped, not stupid. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate everything, but let’s not pretend it’s more than it is.”
Stacey held her breath. Deep within, her heart pounded furiously, waiting for his reaction.
She didn’t have to wait long before she got it.
His eyes flashed. His jaw clenched. The tendons in his forearms began to bulge. Johnny released the hold he had on her chair and took a few steps back. She saw the anger clearly now, and something else, too: hurt.
* * *
H er casual comments hit him like a sucker punch to the gut. Just moments ago he’d been thinking about how she’d managed to burrow under his skin, make him start thinking all kinds of crazy shit, like cutting work and spending the day with her, doing something other than fucking her into lassitude again (though if she had insisted on spending the day getting hot and heavy, he would have manned up).
Because yeah, sex with Stacey was good. Scary good. There had been a connection of more than body parts there. He didn’t pretend to understand it, but he didn’t have to understand it to know that that kind of shit didn’t happen often.
In his case, it had been a first.
So what was this crap about babysitting? Did she really believe that was what he was doing? Had she not felt the same things that he did? Had she not experienced the same shift in her world? Did she think that he made a habit of fucking scared, frightened women into ecstasy, or holding them through hellish nightmares while his chest ached on her behalf?
Okay, so maybe he wouldn’t be winning any awards for abstinence. There had been a fair number of women in his life, but nothing serious. Never once had he felt anything even remotely close to what he had with Stacey. And he certainly never hung around long enough to cuddle .
Forty-eight hours ago he’d come here to get drunk and forget the rest of the world existed. This morning, he’d realized the niggling, anxious feeling that had been plaguing him was gone. And it had done its disappearing act right about the same time he’d slipped into bed with a cherry-scented hellcat.
Maybe she was right. Maybe he was overthinking it. Maybe it was simply a matter of focusing on someone else besides himself. With Lina happily married and Michael back in town for the foreseeable future, he didn’t have as much to worry about. But even as he considered that possibility, he felt the wrongness of it. What he’d been feeling wasn’t just a result of self-reflection.
Exactly what it was remained to be seen, but it was something. Something that sure as hell deserved a chance. Was it sudden? Hell, yes, it was sudden. Like being T-boned by a goddamn semi at full speed right out of the blue. But Johnny had never been one to hang back and overanalyze. When he saw something he wanted, he went for it. Period. And right now, he wanted Stacey, not just in his bed, but out of it, too.
Apparently, that hadn’t come through. Somewhere along the line, she decided he was keeping time with her out of a sense of ... what, exactly? Duty? Responsibility? Pity?
One look in Stacey’s tormented eyes and he knew that was exactly what she thought.
Christ, he felt like a fucking idiot. Why would she think anything else? She was a successful author. Brilliant. Beautiful. Smart. What did she see when she looked at him? A pleasant but temporary diversion? A perk, a bennie, right up there with the hot tub and the view?
It didn’t feel right, but what the hell did he know? Christ, for a couple of moments there, he’d thought she might be The One . Maybe she was. But
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