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She rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling, her left side still flush against his. She had some kind of weird addiction to the feel of his skin. And muscle. God, he was all muscle. She’d love to watch him work out sometime, revel in his strength and the contract-extend ripple under his skin as he—
Wait, what were they talking about?
Oh, right, men. “Here’s the thing. My parents were madly in love when they got married. I have divorced friends who were madly in love when they got married. If I’d married any of the men I was madly in love with, it would have been a complete disaster. I don’t trust the feeling.”
He was quiet so long she tilted her head to see his face, above hers on his down pillows. He was gazing across the room, but bent to brush her lips with his when she turned, started stroking her stomach absently. Oh, she loved the way he touched her, as if it was instinct, something he didn’t even have to think about. The man probably gave back rubs in his sleep.
“Darcy, I’m not sure how to put this, and thanks for the proposal, but I’m not quite ready to discuss marriage with you.”
She started spluttering in shock until she saw his lips curve and realized he’d gotten her. She shoved playfully at his side. “Okay, okay. Your point is that it’s not going to kill me to keep seeing you and having incredible sex.”
“That’s exactly my point. And maybe to keep your mind open to the idea that not all men are out to enslave you.” He frowned. “Though the concept has its attractions. You naked and chained to my bed, for example. I could get into that. Maybe giving me a massage every night. A home-cooked meal twice a day. Laundry, doing my errands, washing my feet and—”
Darcy launched herself at him, and discovered to her delight that this tall, buff man was horribly ticklish. And way too strong. She found herself pinned back on the bed within seconds, totally helpless. Terrible flashback to the one time Chris had gotten physical in his anger—anger over being caught cheating and anger over her gall to be upset about it. “Let go.”
He did immediately, searching her face. “Hey, you okay?”
“Yes, sorry, sorry.” She gave a nervous laugh. “I attacked, you defended. You were playing. It was fine. I overreacted.”
He kissed her mouth, a long, sweet kiss so gentle that she could feel her lips trembling. How did he manage to make his way past so many defenses before she even knew she was under siege? “Darcy, I have never used, nor will I ever use strength to dominate, control or hurt anyone. Anyone. Especially you.”
Her heart started performing feats out of Alice in Wonderland, swelling to enormous proportions, then shrink-melting into a goopy warmth spreading through in her chest. “I believe you.”
“Thank you.” He smiled then, a direct, relieved beautiful smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes under his morning-rumpled hair and turned him entirely irresistible, this young man who made her feel so damn much. “Tell me more.”
She rolled her eyes, shaky still. “Always the questions. Boyfriend one in college, Jon, insisted I put his agenda, friends and desires ahead of mine.”
“Is there something wrong with that?”
Darcy laughed at his fake-shocked expression. “Boyfriend two after college, Chris, couldn’t handle my hours and devotion to my career and cheated on me with a woman who loved nothing better than to wash his socks.”
“Wait, you don’t love washing socks?” He frowned, clearly struggling. “I’m having serious doubts about your suitability as a woman.”
“Exactly.”
He grinned and turned her away from him, started stroking her back, kneading muscles that were less tense than usual, but no less grateful for his attention. “How about nonboyfriend men? You don’t have good male friends? Brothers?”
“No brothers. I hung around with guy friends in college and in restaurant kitchens, but all my close friendships have been with women.” She stirred uncomfortably. Most of her male friends had been drinking buddies or colleagues. As for her female friendships, she wasn’t the type to keep people posted on all her feelings the way some women could. Her sister, Brit, could talk emotions all day, probably because of her therapy and A.A. meetings. Amy at the restaurant had no problem sharing. Candy certainly could. Marie and Kim were more guarded. But then most people were more guarded than Candy, bless her.
