Stella’s eyes are still locked with mine, her hands still fitted around my head. The stern expression in her gaze would keep me from making a peep even if she weren’t sealing my mouth shut.
That’s fine. I don’t need to say anything that way.
I shift my weight and bring my left hand up to her face and run my thumb against her cheek. Watching her face, I know the move is unexpected.
We stare at each other as the tap in the kitchen squeaks open and Tyler fills a glass. I know the moment Stella feels my smile grow against her hand.
I don’t care how long Tyler takes filling his glass of water. He could take hours. I’m just fine right here.
But he doesn’t take hours. In just a few seconds, his footsteps retrace themselves, and he’s climbing the stairs again.
Stella lowers her hand from my mouth, a shy smile shaping her lips.
“I should probably go,” she whispers, “I need to get Maisy up in a couple of hours.”
I hesitate. But then, what the hell?
“I want to come to bed with you.”
Her eyes flash. “I-I—”
I tilt my head to the side, grinning down at her as I read her mind. “Not for that.”
She blinks. “Not for that?” With the slightest shift, she presses her hip into my still thriving hard-on.
My breath catches, but I rally. “N-no.”
“Then for what?” Her look is playful but suspicious.
“Just to hold you.”
As with the gentle caress of her cheek, she doesn’t expect this. For a second, the look she gives me is so unguarded and moved, the muscles in my abs ripple. I want to surprise her that way again.
But as soon as it arrives, the look is gone, replaced by one that tells me Stella is thinking about her responsibilities instead of the possibilities of taking me to bed.
“I think we’d better not.” She says it so gently, I almost don’t mind that she’s shutting me down.
Almost.
“Okay,” I say, but keep my gaze on hers. “But in the morning, you’re not allowed to avoid me or pretend this didn’t happen.”
Stella blinks her eyes wide and her bottom lip disappears between her teeth. “What do you mean?”
Oh, man. She was so totally going to avoid me and pretend this didn’t happen. I’m torn between being wounded that she would and gratified that I totally know her.
I know her, and what I don’t know, I want to discover.
“You know what I mean. No avoiding me tomorrow. When you see me at breakfast, you look me in the eyes.”
I’m taking a risk here, and I know it, but if she goes back to pretending like I don’t exist after I’ve kissed her and made her come, I might go nuts.
When guilt flits across her eyes, I know I haven’t pushed too far. “Fair enough,” she says with half a nod. But she stops it at half. “But nobody knows about this.”
Ouch.
It’s my turn to give a half nod, but mine’s diminished because I’m recovering from a sucker punch.
“Hey,” she says, reaching up and touching my face, worry in her eyes. “I don’t mean anything by that. It’s just—”
