If she closed up on him again, reverted back to ignoring him, he didn’t know how he’d get through to her. For now, she was open, smiling—something she hadn’t done with him in years—and he wanted to make sure she stayed that way.
He’d bite his tongue off before he said anything else to unsettle her.
She’d asked him to watch a movie and, while sitting in Wade’s plush theatre seats appealed, it was sitting next to her knowing she wasn’t wearing a bra that could do him in.
He closed his eyes and tried to erase the image of her unconfined breasts moving beneath her t-shirt from his mind. She wasn’t large in the boob department, but what she had was sufficient to keep him happy.
His hands jerked, the jug crashing against the stainless steel sink as he lost his grip. Cursing under his breath, he chased the slick container, making more noise that a troop of tap dancers before he finally got hold of the handle.
Slapping at the tap, he turned the water on and rinsed the suds from his hands and clean utensils.
“Do you want me to dry those?”
He jumped.
She’d snuck up behind him without a sound, or—more likely—he’d been so busy fantasizing about her naked breasts he hadn’t heard her approach.
“Nah, they’ll air dry before morning.”
“Okay. I’ll go pick a movie then.”
He breathed a sigh of relief as she moved away. The farther away those tempting breasts were the better. He needed a moment to regain control.
She’d always had this effect on him, sent his libido soaring with the twitch of her lips, the swish of her hips, or the sway of her breasts. His jeans tightened as his cock filled with blood.
Dammit.
He’d be lucky to make it through the night without doing himself an injury.
Glancing over his shoulder, he made sure she’d left the room before he reached down and rearranged his growing erection. If it wouldn’t be obvious he sported a hard-on, he’d change into sweat pants, but he didn’t want her to see what she did to him.
Not tonight.
Tomorrow there’d be a different playing field, one where the rules were clear. No more dates, for a start. He doubted she’d take much convincing on that though. He’d be lucky if Smithe hadn’t scared her off dating altogether.
If tonight’s debacle had made her skittish it would ruin the plan forming in his mind.
Dating her, wooing her until she couldn’t resist him, sounded like a good strategy.
He might not have much experience or success to fall back on, but what he had was determination and a bone-deep desire to make her see he’d never stopped loving her.
Would never stop.
He’d spent nearly fifteen years hiding his feelings for Valentine Johnson and it was about time he manned up and let her see the real him.
He dried his hands on a dish towel and, picking up his coffee, headed down the hall in search of her.
She had the equipment panel open and was busy flicking through choices on the small display screen.
He stood in the doorway, his gazed trained on her slender body. Sensuous in nature, she moved with a suppleness that spoke of flexibility. He knew she swam to keep in shape. Since she’d moved in he could set his watch by her.
Every morning without fail, she hit the pool and swam for an hour. Nonstop. Back and forth. Up and down.
He’d endured more cold showers in the last few weeks than his entire life. And if he didn’t quit staring at her now, he’d need another one.
Forcing himself to move, he entered the room and walked over to the couch.
“What are we watching?” he asked as he put his coffee on a side table and dropped into the soft cushions.
