Arms hanging loose at his sides, he just watched me, saying nothing. Jerk.
“So tell me.” I stood at the foot of the bed, facing him. Every part of me was wired, wide awake. “What’s going on, Joe?”
His shoulders rose and fell on a deep breath. “I realized something tonight.”
“What?”
“That I was falling into old habits. Doing what was easy instead of doing what I wanted.”
“Huh?”
“It was just before you spilled ice on that guy’s pants.”
“Sure. I can see how you’d be seduced by my smooth moves,” I said, voice filled with much doubt. My insides were ready to spontaneously combust. I swear I could feel sweat breaking out all over me, the man was just that hot. Also, my nerves were on high alert.
One corner of his lips tipped up. “You know how you said you weren’t jealous?”
“Yes?”
“Well, I was.”
Wow. I had nothing.
“This is the part where you’re supposed to admit you were jealous too,” he supplied.
“I didn’t think it needed to be said. I’m not that good a liar.”
“True,” he said. “Anyway, I made the pass at you and then I was leaving it up to you to figure out what you want. To be brave and make the next move.”
Softly, I laughed and shook my head. Men were such idiots. “Make the first move? This isn’t a game. As I said last time the subject of sex came up, previous hurt feelings, etc. It’s going to get complicated.”
“Yeah, probably,” he said, voice deeper than I’d ever heard it. Like subterranean or something.
“What if it all goes wrong?”
“Then you go back to your old life in Seattle and forget all about me.”
“I highly doubt that will work.” Given my slightly addled mind, the math might be off, but the chances of me forgetting about Joe Collins anytime soon were not good. Two, three percent maximum. You’d have to allow for an episode of amnesia, alien abduction, or something similar. Sexual encounters with men whose names I didn’t remember, however, wouldn’t replace him. They couldn’t.
“Do you want me to leave?” he asked.
“No.”
My stomach flip-flopped while everything down low got achy and wanting. We’d made it this far, there could be no turning back. He wanted me to make the next move. Fine. Without further ado, I whipped my sweater off over my head, dropping it on the floor. Thank goodness, I’d packed some nice underwear. My heart beat double time inside my chest.
He’d seen me half naked before, but now the atmosphere was decidedly different. His gaze flickered over me, nostrils flaring at the sight of my black lace bra.
Okay, that was a good reaction.
Problem was, he did nothing else. He just stood there, studying me. He hadn’t even taken his damn coat off. Some of his golden hair had escaped its ponytail and hung around his face, lying against his muscular neck. His big solid body seemed locked in place, everything frozen, except for his hands. Strong fingers flexed open and closed, open and closed.
“Joe?”
I moved a solid inch or two toward him. Brave of me, I know. It was impossible to see the look in his eyes. I should have turned on more lights, except something else had me wanting to hide in low lighting. Something involving feelings and other things I’d rather not be thinking about. Ever. Normally, I wasn’t shy in the bedroom. My body had its flaws—the same as anyone else’s. But no way would I allow dimply thighs or a wobbly butt get in the way of enjoying life. Hell no. I had other neuroses for that.
And he still didn’t move.
Maybe this whole risk-taking thing wasn’t such a great idea after all. I’d happily been a hermit for many years. Saying no to things that might take me out of my comfort zone had served me well. Shit. What to do? Run and hide or make one last attempt?
“Joe? Hello?”
He licked his lips but didn’t speak. Maybe he’d changed his mind.
Meanwhile, I seemed to have suddenly developed asthma. It was getting harder and harder to breathe with all of the emotions building up inside my chest. Lust, fear, and my old friend confusion. My ribs could barely hold it all in. Any second now my heart and lungs would burst, give up.
And still he stood there doing nothing.
“I made my move,” I said, nervous as all hell. “It’s your turn.”
He didn’t speak a word, he just grabbed me.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Message received four weeks ago:
Hey Alex,
How did your date go? I hope it was horrible and he had bad breath, sweaty hands, and only talked about boring ass botanical facts all night. No. Wait. I mean, hope you had a nice time. Right. That’s what I meant to say. So?
Message sent:
Thank you for your well wishes. Not sure I should talk about this stuff with you, it feels weird for some reason … But okay, the botanist smelled fine and his hands were dry, appreciate your concern. But you’ll be pleased to know that he went into far more detail regarding the sex lives of rare orchids than I ever needed to know. Honestly, it was a bit wrong, how into it he was. I wound up feeling he was some sort of orchid pervert or something. It was all stamens and kink. A very odd night. Food was good though.
A xx
Fingers dug into my hair and his mouth covered mine, hot and hungry. There was no going slow. We were a car crash, a catastrophe. His tongue in my mouth and my hands pushing at his coat, tearing at his T-shirt. One large hand slid down over my spine, grabbing my ass and kneading, while the other cradled the back of my head.
Whiskers from his beard tickled the end of my nose and I pulled back, sneezing.
“Sorry,” I mumbled.
“You all right?” he asked, eyes darker than I’d ever seen them.
I nodded. “Mmhmm.”
And we went right back to it, lips mashed together, my tongue sliding over his teeth. For a moment his hands left me then his coat hit the floor. What a brilliant idea.
“Get it off,” I demanded, pushing up his shirt. He ripped it off over his head while I went to work on his belt buckle. What a team effort. The bulge beneath his jeans looked so damn tempting, it made my mouth water. I slid my hand over it, pressing against the hard length of him, stroking him with my palm.
“Fuck,” he said, covering my hand with his own, making me work him harder.
His other hand covered the front of my neck as if he were gently collaring me, thumb grazing my skin. Again and again, he pressed his lips to my mouth. Such sweet kisses, I couldn’t get enough of them. I chased his mouth, trying to keep contact for longer. The asshole just smiled.
Butterflies didn’t cover it. There were pterodactyls inside my stomach, swooping and screeching and flying around. Not even they, however, could compete with the throbbing ache in my pussy.
“We need less clothes,” I said, voice shaking. Damn it.
“Yeah.”
With one final kiss he let me go and the race was on. He tore open the button on my pants, wrenched down the zip. All the while my blood beat hard, pushing us to go faster, to get him into me quicker. It required more balance than I possessed to toe off my shoes. I clung to his thick shoulders before I hit the floor. Once he had my pants undone and down to my knees, he threw me onto the bed.