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If she does, I’ll really lose it. “Fuck.No.”
Once again, I’ve said the exact wrong thing. “Guess you won’t be finding out what it’s like tofuck your wife.”
She throws my own words at me and then stalks into the master bedroom, slamming the door behind her for good measure.
I rake my fingers through my hair, trying to erase the memory of what just happened. Two steps forward, three steps back.
The guest room next to the master is a foreign sight. I haven’t set foot in here for years. When my father sets up a “family” vacation, it’s always to the Alps for Christmas or on some tropical island. Whenever I’ve spent time here, I’ve stayed in the master. There’s no way I’m setting foot in there tonight.
I strip down to my boxers and face plant into bed.
I wake with a dry throat while it’s still dark out. I roll around in the sheets for a few minutes, trying to find a comfortable spot that will lull me back to sleep. Eventually, I give up. I stand and leave the bedroom, heading for the dark, silent kitchen.
It takes me three tries to find the cabinet with the glasses in it. I fill one with cold water from the tap, drain most of it, refill it, and then turn to leave.
Scarlett is leaning against the doorway, staring at me. My heart rate accelerates, slows, and then picks up again.
“Do you want any water?”
She scoffs and turns away.
I cross the kitchen in a few strides and grab her arm. “Scarlett. Look, I—”
She whirls on me. “What?What do youwantfrom me, Crew? Because I thought it was sex. But I offered that to you on a platinum fucking platter and you decided to sleep down the hall.”
“You weren’t thinking clearly.”
“No shit. Ican’tthink clearly around you.”
“That’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me, baby.”
“Don’t get used to it.”
“I’d like to.”
That seems to pierce whatever armor she’s wearing underneath her flimsy nightgown. These scraps of short fabric will be the death of me, I swear. “Will this end once we have sex?”
“What?”
“Forget it.”
“Just say what you mean, Red. I’m not a fucking mind reader.”
She chews on her bottom lip. “I want to sleep with you. I don’t want it to change things.”
“Change them from what? Not talking in New York?”
“From…” She shakes her head. “Never mind.”
I make the first move. I erase the space between us and press my palm against her waist, guiding her against me.
She makes the second. Her hands run up my arms and shoulders before sliding in my hair. “Just warn me, okay?” she whispers. “Warn me it’s going to end. I’ll be fine, as long as I have a warning.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
Scarlett doesn’t answer. She kisses me. Heady and deep and arousing. The sort of kiss that can be the main event. I could kiss her for hours. Memorize exactly how it feels, how she tastes, the little sounds she makes, and it still wouldn’t be enough.
But I realize this won’t be the main event when her hand slides south. Before I canthink, much less react, she’s fisting my cock. And I’m done. I won’t be the one stopping this. The brakes aren’t working. I want her. I’ve wanted her for so long it’s hard to remember a time when I didn’t.
