Page 292 of Manhattan Bossholes

My lips twisted.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re trying not to laugh,” he grumbled. “What is it?”

“Sometimes I just wonder how this Coffeezilla of a man can endure such hardship for me.”

“Because you keep me properly caffeinated. And you’re damn sexy.” He bussed my temple with his lips. “You’re cold.”

“I’m waiting for someone to warm me up,” I said pointedly.

“Are you, now? Want to get warm and toasty by the fire?”

“I was thinking we could do this the old-fashioned way—sharing body heat.” Trent sped up, and I laughed. “Someone obviously likes the sound of that.”

“I’m about to set you on fire, my little Hellcat.”

I smirked. “I’d like to see you try.”

He pulled us to a stop, catching me in his arms as he planted a decidedly unchaste kiss on my lips. “Challenge accepted.” He took my hand, hurrying us across the next street.

By the time we reached his apartment, my heart was pounding, and I felt like I was tingling all over for reasons that had nothing to do with the cold.

“Finally,” Trent breathed against my lips as he closed the door behind us. He pressed his lips to my neck, and I kicked off my shoes. “I thought we’d never get here.”

“It was only a twenty-minute walk.”

“Twenty minutes too long,” he growled. “I need you now.” He backed me down the hall toward his bedroom, pulling my jacket off my shoulders as we went. It hit the floor, and I tried not to stumble over it as he got his hands under my sweater.

I shivered, whining. “Your hands are cold.”

“Better get that body heat going,” he said, grinning as my legs bumped up against his bed. I collapsed onto it, and he leaned over me, kissing his way down my stomach, popping the button on my jeans. He didn’t stop, tugging at my underwear with his teeth until I was squirming to get my legs free from my jeans, eager to wrap those legs around him. Despite Trent’s earlier declarations, he didn’t seem to be in any hurry, taking his time kissing up and down my thighs.

I closed my eyes, focusing on the sensation of his lips, my fingers running through his hair. “Trent,” I said.

“Yes?”

“What are you doing?”

“Warming you up,” he teased, the tip of his nose brushing over my underwear in a way that had my back arching off the bed. “Is it working?”

I bit back a laugh. It sure as hell was working. This slow, languid game he was playing was going to drive me crazy. I pressed my hand to his cheek, and he looked up at me, those dark eyes filled with an expression I wasn’t sure how to name. In the time we’d been doing this, we’d started to learn each other’s bodies, and though the desire was just as strong as it had been the first time, there wasn’t the rushing urgency anymore. And frankly, it felt amazing, knowing Trent this well. It had been so long since I’d had something like this in my life, but even as those thoughts surfaced, I couldn’t stop guilt from bubbling up.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked, rubbing circles around my hip bone. “You seem distracted.”

“Nothing,” I said. “Come up here and kiss me.”

He crawled up my body, but he resisted as I tugged on his shirt, trying to bring his lips to mine. “Natasha,” he said, the word insistent. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I swear.” I swallowed hard, the guilt tapping at my temple like a tiny hammer. “I’m just tired.”

“Do you want to stop?” he asked.

“No,” I insisted, rocking my body up against his. I wanted him. I did. And I really wanted him in a good mood…because tonight I might finally tell him I’d been in contact with his mother.

I hooked my leg around his hip, rolling us so I landed on top, my hands pressed against his muscular chest.