Unexpected by Lori Foster

effort was wasted because her voice trembled when she said, “I don’t have a problem with it if you don’t.”
    Watching her, alert to her every move, Eli lifted the covers and waited.
    It was a good thing she was a sturdy woman in good health, with the way her heart punched inside her chest. Utilizing every ounce of control she possessed, Ray walked to the bed and slipped in beside him.
    Eli waited only until she lay back, her arms propped behind her head, before he dropped the covers over her and turned off the light.
    The darkness brought out her other senses with the acuity of a predator.
    She could smell him, feel the heat of his body seeping over to her, weakening her muscles, penetrating deep inside her.
    And she could hear him breathing, light, even breaths.
    She knew without being able to see that he was propped on one elbow, staring toward her. An invisible fist tightened on her lungs, then in a husky whisper, his voice a caress, he said, “Good night, Ray Jean. Sleep well.”
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    Eli wasn’t prepared for the impact of her body landing full against his, or her thumb pressing into his vocals.
    â€œI told you never to call me that.”
    If he wasn’t strangling, it would have been funny. Lying still with the shock of her breasts squashed to his bare chest, the warm, smooth weight of her inner thigh against his hip, Eli barely noticed the menace in her tone. “Ray?” he rasped, faking confusion to keep her exactly where she was a bit longer.
    â€œYou called me Ray Jean,” she snarled in a low, mean voice. “I warned you not to.” Her breath fanned his mouth and her eyes were a bright glimmer in the dark room, only inches from his. She was in full mercenary mode—and damn, he had a boner.
    Very slowly, Eli brought his hands up to frame her waist. She was narrow, firm; his thumbs nearly touched over her midriff, his fingers meeting over her spine.
    As hot as he suddenly felt, he still had to struggle to keep from laughing. He found her defense of her name ludicrous—and endearing. Why? What significance did the name hold for her? He wanted to ask, but that’d fall into the category of personal stuff and he didn’t want to scare her off. Other than not being able to breathe, he loved feeling her so close. Given a choice, he’d have kept her right there all night.
    â€œYou’re choking me, Ray.” His voice was rough with the pressure she exerted on his throat.
    Ray jerked, inadvertently tightening her hold. As if she’d only then realized what she was doing, her eyes widened, apparent even in the darkness of the unlit room. By small degrees, her fingers loosened and she started to pull away. Eli’s grip on her waist stopped her.
    â€œEli?”
    â€œHmmm?” It would be so easy to slip his fingers beneath the pajama top and encounter warm skin.
    â€œWhat do you think you’re doing?”
    Though she spoke in a mere whisper, he heard the fury, and the confusion. She’d been comfortable enough challenging him physically, but sexually she was at a loss.
    â€œMe?” He tried to sound innocent. “All I did was say good night and you attacked me.”
    She remained stonily silent, awaiting her release. Eli moved his fingers in a subtle caress, allowing his thumbs to move tantalizingly close to the soft fullness of her breasts.
    It was very tempting . . . No, better not, he decided. She was rigid enough to break already. “Why, Ray? Why are you so touchy about your name?”
    â€œLet. Go.”
    He didn’t want to. He wanted to pull her down flush against him, to feel all that vital energy directed at him. He wanted to take her mouth and . . .
    â€œDon’t make me hurt you, Eli.”
    He couldn’t help himself. The situation was so novel, and she was so deadly serious in her determination that he chuckled.
    Bad idea.
    Her hand moved so fast, he barely caught it in time. But he did