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That made me laugh. “I doubt that. You’re not the horrible, awful man I originally thought you were.” I also thought that Sean’s confidence in himself might be because no one believed in him. He had to compensate for his family’s lack of support. I admired the hell out of his confidence now.
“You know how to stroke my ego. Glad you no longer think I’m horrible and awful.” He came toward me and cupped my cheek with his hand. The touch was light, gentle. “I don’t think you’re grumpy either. At least not all the time.”
“Only on Tuesdays,” I murmured, resting my hands on his waist. I wanted to touch him, feel him close against me.
“Why Tuesdays?”
“It’s the only day of the week I don’t see you.” Heat rose in my cheeks even as I said the words, but I hate not being honest more than I hate being vulnerable. It was the truth. Let him think whatever he wanted of it.
Sean seemed to like my words because his eyes darkened and he swore softly under his breath. “You know how to get me when I least expect it.” He brushed his lips over mine and it was a deep, aching kiss that made me shiver.
I was going to pull away, lead him to my bed, but he brushed my hair off my face and looked into my eyes. “I love her and it is the beginning of everything.”
His words were a raw murmur, strong and filled with emotion.
Everything inside me froze. It was the ending of the quote on my dating profile. I hadn’t included the last sentence. Sean must have gone and looked it up. It was the last line of what the author had written about his wife. That he loved her, the world be damned.
Sean was saying that he loved me.
In a really amazing and romantic way.
I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t even know for sure if I loved Sean, because I didn’t really know what loving a man felt like. I just knew that hearing him say that made me feel so special and cherished, and any words I would have wanted to say were locked inside of me, choked off by overwhelming emotion.
He didn’t seem to need a response. Instead, he just picked me up and carried me to the bed. When he lay me down on my back, I reached for his shirt, needing to feel his warm skin next to mine. I didn’t want to rush, but I wanted to explore him. He seemed to have the same idea in mind. He didn’t go straight for my jeans.
Instead, he kissed me repeatedly while I slipped a palm under his T-shirt to slide my fingers across the firm plane of his muscles. I liked to feel his strength, his heat over me. In my small apartment, he seemed to take up half the space. Sean eased down the neck of my shirt and kissed the swell of my breast while I lightly raked my fingernails over his abs.
When I undid the button on his jeans, he pulled back and peeled his shirt off over his head.
“When the hell do you find time to go to the gym?” I asked, dead serious, as I took in his very hard and very sexy chest. I felt like I had every ten minutes of free time every week, and yet he was way too built to claim it was because of good genetics.
“I moved into a building with a gym to make it more convenient. Usually at six in the morning.”
“Gross. I don’t even know what six in the morning looks like.” I didn’t. Mornings and I had a contentious relationship. “But I appreciate your dedication.” I ran my hands over his biceps. “Really, really appreciate it.”
Sean swore. “When you look at me like that… damn it, Isla. You’re killing me. I want to take it slow this time.”
“Are we really take it slow people?” I asked, curious. It didn’t seem to apply to either of us. I didn’t want to rush but I wasn’t exactly known for having the deepest well of patience.
“We should try.” He ran his finger along the edge of my bra. “We might like it.”
“You’ll have to sell me on this,” I said, even as I rubbed the palm of my hand across the front of his jeans, enjoying the feel of his hard cock beneath the denim.
Sean eased my shirt up and over my head. “I think actions speak louder than words.” He punctuated the point by carefully, slowly, torturously taking the straps of my bra down over my shoulders.
The electric feel of just the tip of his fingers shocked me. He was barely touching me, but he was making me breathless with the anticipation. He brushed down my arms, back up, and across the tops of my breasts. He touched my bottom lip and teased at my nipples over the satin of my bra. It was pure, sweet torture.
“I was supposed to be torturing you,” I murmured. “Not the other way around.”
“I’m torturing both of us,” he said, his eyes dark with desire. “But you’re so beautiful, Isla. You take my breath away.”
I was never one to fall for a line and I’d never thought of myself as particularly beautiful. I was too pragmatic to be soft and feminine and that was how I had been raised to think of beauty. But in that moment, staring up at Sean in my darkening apartment, I believed him. He thought I was beautiful for reasons that had nothing to do with my unwillingness to wear makeup or to dress in pink. He thought I was beautiful and he respected me. The real me. The stubborn, hard-working, tell-it-like-it-is me.
Maybe that’s why I had never fallen in love before. I had earned respect from colleagues but I didn’t think until then I’d ever dated someone who really liked and respected all the facets of me.
I realized right then that I did love Sean. I had fallen completely and totally in love with him. The only man who seemed to truly understand me.
Then I did the most un-Isla-like thing ever.
