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But it was only in Kaitlyn’s imagination that he’d be able to touch her, to slide his shaft between her fiery pussy lips and bury himself deep until they both cried out.
He shuddered and sucked in air, hoping his hands wouldn’t shake as he poured the cream into her cup. He handed it to her and poured his. Black, strong, fiery-hot, he didn’t care. He needed the jolt of caffeine to slap some goddamn sense into him before it was too late.
“Mmm, this is good,” she said, her eyes partially closing while she rubbed her lips together, then snaked her tongue out to lick coffee from her top lip.
Would she moan in pleasure like that if a drop of his cum lingered on her lips? She was driving him to the brink of sanity. One more sultry look, or moan of delight, or revelation of an inch more of her skin and he’d fly right over the edge of reason.
Instead, he leaned his arms against the bar and studied the steaming coffee in his cup.
“Brett?”
“Yeah.”
“Why don’t you want me to take my robe off?”
Shit. He’d always found her honesty and bluntness refreshing. Now he wished she’d keep her curiosity to herself. “I don’t need to see you naked to paint you.”
“That’s a lie and you know it. I’ve never known an artist to paint a nude with clothing on. Kind of defeats the purpose, don’t you think?”
“The painting will come out just fine. Don’t worry.”
“I don’t want it come out fine. I want it to come out looking like me. Exactly like me. You don’t even know what my body looks like underneath this robe.”
No, but he could well imagine every curve, every line. Her body was burned into his imagination for all time, as it had been from the time she was seventeen and crushed against him in a passionate embrace. Then he’d touched her, memorizing the swell of her hips, the tautness of her butt, the firmness of her breasts. Granted, she’d filled out since then, her curves more like a woman’s instead of a teenager’s, but his vision of her had grown right along with her.
“I have a good imagination, Kait. I’ll do you justice.”
“I think there’s something keeping you from seeing me naked and I want to know what it is.”
Out of the corner of his eye he caught a flash of cream colored silk and tanned leg as she shifted on the barstool. The silk slid down her legs, revealing the tops of her thighs. He swallowed and took a long gulp of coffee, which wasn’t doing him a damn bit of good.
What he really wanted was a drink. A stiff, no rocks, no seltzer, shot of whiskey.
No, that wasn’t right. What he really wanted was to turn around and finish parting her robe, then take what he’d wanted to take for the past ten years.
Since he wasn’t going to experience either the shot of whiskey or Kaitlyn, he’d just have to buck it up and be strong.
“Look at me, Brett.”
Unable to come up with a valid excuse not to, he set his cup on the bar and turned around to face her, trying to keep his gaze focused on her face and not on the dark shadow between her breasts, or the fact that the robe had fallen further away from her legs and now covered only a fraction of an inch of her upper thighs. If he looked hard enough, he was certain he could see right between her legs.
Best thing to do was not look anywhere but her face, though that was pretty damned distracting too. Her bottom lip was full and lush and he was dying to run his thumb over it to see if it felt as soft as it looked. Her little upturned nose had a small sprinkle of freckles along the bridge, but it was her eyes that did him in. Shaped like a cat’s with a golden green swirl that he could study for hours.
She wore her emotions in her eyes, and right now what he saw in there caused his jeans to tighten rather uncomfortably.
“Why are you afraid of me?” she asked.
“I’m not afraid of you.”
“Yes, you are. You have been for years. Whenever the family sees you at social functions, you’ll throw your arms around Shannon and give her a tight squeeze. Then when you get to me I receive a brief hug and you pull away like I’m infested with fleas or something. It’s kind of disturbing.”
Because Shannon really was like a sister to him. Kaitlyn, on the other hand, was the woman he’d wanted for as long as he could remember. The only woman, other than Amanda, he’d cared about. He’d already ruined one woman. Hell, he’d killed her. He’d die rather than hurt Kaitlyn.
But seeing the pain swirling in her mesmerizing eyes, he realized that by keeping his distance he had hurt her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I was so aloof with you.”
She shrugged. “It’s okay. Just makes me curious. Why?”
“It’s…complicated.” Yeah, there’s an understatement.
“Explain it anyway. I’m not going anywhere.”
She leaned against the back of the stool, the action causing one side of the robe to slip and bare one well-sculpted shoulder. Her skin was golden tan and glistening with something that sparkled. He wanted to lick her, right there, then move his way over every inch of her body. She made no move to lift the robe back over her shoulder, either. Damn her, didn’t she have a clue what she was doing to him?
What happened to him in the past made him stronger, but he wasn’t that strong. And she was tempting him. Deliberately. And she had no idea of the darkness that lived within him. If she wouldn’t protect herself, he’d have to do it for her. He reached for the top of her robe, conscious of her eyes widening as he slid his fingers between her upper arm and the silk. But when he lifted the material back over her shoulder and covered her bared skin, he caught the hurt pooling in her eyes before she quickly averted her gaze.
Shit. Would he forever make mistakes with her? Why couldn’t he make her understand that if he touched her once, he’d want her forever. And that would be the worst possible thing he could do to her.
Kaitlyn stared at the far wall of the studio, refusing to let Brett see the tears gathering in her eyes. Stupid tears anyway. She had no business being upset other than idiot woman emotions. But dammit, when he reached for her, she’d held her breath, certain he was finally going to touch her, slide the robe off her body and bare her to his gaze. Instead, he had redressed her as if she was repulsive and he couldn’t bear to look.
She knew he liked the way she looked, so the idea of being repugnant to him didn’t fly. He just wasn’t interested. That had to be it.
“Kait. Look at me.”
How the hell was she supposed to follow through on her plan to seduce him if she let all these self-doubts take control? She was an attractive woman and by God she’d seen the way the crotch of his jeans filled out when he looked at her. She gave him a hard-on. Men that weren’t interested in a woman didn’t get erections just looking at them.
Now or never, Kaitlyn. This is your chance, so go for it. The worst that can happen is he pushes you away again, just like last time.
No, that wasn’t going to happen. Not this time. Last time she was a kid. Now she was a woman. A woman who knew exactly what she wanted and wasn’t going to take no for an answer. Straightening her shoulders, she turned to face him, forcing a confidence she didn’t really feel inside.
She slid off the barstool.
He frowned and scooted away from her. “Things between us…would never work.”
Don’t buy into it. He’s scared. That was easy enough to read from the wary expression in his eyes. Even he didn’t believe what he was saying. So she kept moving toward him. “Why not?”
His brows rose in surprise and he shifted away from the bar and headed toward the supply table. “You’re Aidan’s sister.”
She followed. “So?”
“I’ve known you since you were a little kid.”
He reached for the paintbrush, but she pulled it out of his hand and set it back on the table, then covered her palm over the top of his hand.
She breathed him in, the crisp, masculine scent of him, drawing in the musk of desire, letting it fill her completely. When he trie
d to pull his hand away, she twined her fingers between his, moving them slowly back and forth. “I’m not a kid anymore.”
“I can see that just fine. And that’s the problem.”
Enough of this game. “Touch me, Brett.”
