hair. It did that thing where it fell back into perfect disarray.
And he had to be the most beautiful man in the entire world.
I smiled down at him, pleased that our kiss had the same effect on him as it had on me.
“Dammit.” His voice was raspy and full of hunger and desire. “If I don’t stop now, I won’t stop.” A look crossing somewhere between guilt and apprehension crossed his face.
“I don’t want you to stop.”
He fell backward onto the bed. I still straddled his lap. His hands rested on the sides of my thighs. He moved his fingertips slowly up my legs, treading just under the skirt of my dress before moving back down into safer territory.
“I don’t want to stop.”
I climbed down from on top of him, a feeling of defeat and embarrassment spreading into my chest.
I sat on the bed beside him. I felt his fingertips on my back. He sat up next to me, put his arm around me, and then fell back again, dragging me with him so my head was cradled in the nook of his arm.
“But I have to.”
God, that scent. I couldn’t get over how amazing this man smelled.
Even as he was in the midst of denying me, I still noted how good he smelled.
“You don’t have to do anything except pay taxes and die.” It was a line my dad had used a million times. Probably cheesier than the moment called for, but I needed something to lighten the mood after the horrible denial.
He chuckled. “Pay taxes, die, and pull back a second to take this a little slower with you.”
I gazed up at him. He stared up at the ceiling. His face had contorted into a mask of regret. I glanced over at his broad chest. My hand moved of its own accord as it came up and started tracing a pattern on the shirt covering his chest. “Why?”
“Because I really, really like you. And I’m not going to fuck it up by moving too fast.”
“What if I told you it wouldn’t fuck things up?”
“It will. Trust me.”
“How do you know?”
He threw his arm over his eyes. “Because you’re good. You know? All the others, I knew they weren’t good for me. That’s what I wanted. But you confuse me. You are more than one night, and if I keep kissing you, if we take it further, if we have sex…you’ll be in the same category as all the others. You don’t belong there.”
My heart stuttered in my chest.
He didn’t want to have sex with me because he liked me?
I leaned up over him. His arm still covered his eyes. I pulled his arm because I wanted to see his eyes. I wanted to know his words were sincere, that this wasn’t some ploy by a player to get me into his bed.
And when my eyes met his, I saw the confusion mixed with pain and desire and need.
I saw everything I needed to see.
I leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to his lips.
“Ready to take me home?”
He shook his head. “I don’t want you to go.”
“I don’t want to go, either. But maybe I need to. Maybe we need some space, some time to cool down.”
“Or maybe you stay here tonight. No first date sex. Then I take you home in the morning.”
The thought of the luxurious bed wrapped in Dax’s arms was too tempting to resist. Our eyes met for a few heated beats, and then I said, “Okay,” my voice small.
His lips tipped up in a soft smile. “Okay?”
I nodded, and he picked up his head and pressed his lips to mine again. It was soft and tender, filled with restrained longing.
I got up and went back to the comfy chair and my wine. He sat on the floor with his beer. We both avoided looking at the bed, dodging the temptation it represented.
But part of me loved that he liked me so much that he didn’t want to bang me. He respected me, and that was pretty damn special in my book.
12
“Oh, fuck!” I yelled much louder than I intended to.
Dax’s sleepy eyes opened slowly and focused in on my face. I had to look like a disaster, but he looked as hot in the morning as he had the night before.
Life wasn’t fair sometimes.
I probably had mascara smeared
And he had to be the most beautiful man in the entire world.
I smiled down at him, pleased that our kiss had the same effect on him as it had on me.
“Dammit.” His voice was raspy and full of hunger and desire. “If I don’t stop now, I won’t stop.” A look crossing somewhere between guilt and apprehension crossed his face.
“I don’t want you to stop.”
He fell backward onto the bed. I still straddled his lap. His hands rested on the sides of my thighs. He moved his fingertips slowly up my legs, treading just under the skirt of my dress before moving back down into safer territory.
“I don’t want to stop.”
I climbed down from on top of him, a feeling of defeat and embarrassment spreading into my chest.
I sat on the bed beside him. I felt his fingertips on my back. He sat up next to me, put his arm around me, and then fell back again, dragging me with him so my head was cradled in the nook of his arm.
“But I have to.”
God, that scent. I couldn’t get over how amazing this man smelled.
Even as he was in the midst of denying me, I still noted how good he smelled.
“You don’t have to do anything except pay taxes and die.” It was a line my dad had used a million times. Probably cheesier than the moment called for, but I needed something to lighten the mood after the horrible denial.
He chuckled. “Pay taxes, die, and pull back a second to take this a little slower with you.”
I gazed up at him. He stared up at the ceiling. His face had contorted into a mask of regret. I glanced over at his broad chest. My hand moved of its own accord as it came up and started tracing a pattern on the shirt covering his chest. “Why?”
“Because I really, really like you. And I’m not going to fuck it up by moving too fast.”
“What if I told you it wouldn’t fuck things up?”
“It will. Trust me.”
“How do you know?”
He threw his arm over his eyes. “Because you’re good. You know? All the others, I knew they weren’t good for me. That’s what I wanted. But you confuse me. You are more than one night, and if I keep kissing you, if we take it further, if we have sex…you’ll be in the same category as all the others. You don’t belong there.”
My heart stuttered in my chest.
He didn’t want to have sex with me because he liked me?
I leaned up over him. His arm still covered his eyes. I pulled his arm because I wanted to see his eyes. I wanted to know his words were sincere, that this wasn’t some ploy by a player to get me into his bed.
And when my eyes met his, I saw the confusion mixed with pain and desire and need.
I saw everything I needed to see.
I leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to his lips.
“Ready to take me home?”
He shook his head. “I don’t want you to go.”
“I don’t want to go, either. But maybe I need to. Maybe we need some space, some time to cool down.”
“Or maybe you stay here tonight. No first date sex. Then I take you home in the morning.”
The thought of the luxurious bed wrapped in Dax’s arms was too tempting to resist. Our eyes met for a few heated beats, and then I said, “Okay,” my voice small.
His lips tipped up in a soft smile. “Okay?”
I nodded, and he picked up his head and pressed his lips to mine again. It was soft and tender, filled with restrained longing.
I got up and went back to the comfy chair and my wine. He sat on the floor with his beer. We both avoided looking at the bed, dodging the temptation it represented.
But part of me loved that he liked me so much that he didn’t want to bang me. He respected me, and that was pretty damn special in my book.
12
“Oh, fuck!” I yelled much louder than I intended to.
Dax’s sleepy eyes opened slowly and focused in on my face. I had to look like a disaster, but he looked as hot in the morning as he had the night before.
Life wasn’t fair sometimes.
I probably had mascara smeared
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