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“I don’t think I’ve ever been too tired for that.” I refrain from mentioning the marathon with the blonde bombshell after my last Super Bowl win. All I needed after one of the hardest games of my career was a shower. Then I was good to go. Don’t see why tonight will be any different…
As long as we don’t have to talk.
She sends me a sultry glance. “Good to hear.”
“You’re serious.” About the sex. About us having it. I don’t ask her because it’s not a question.
She lifts a shoulder in an offhanded shrug. “I’m single. You’re single. We have this damn nice place to ourselves. I’m attracted, I admit. I think you’d only block my sun to gawk at me if you liked what you saw. So why not?”
Honestly, she isn’t using rationale I haven’t used myself. It seems logical. Obvious, even. But something about the way she’s coolly propositioning me gives me pause. I want to get to know her more. Spend time with her. I’m not sure why, exactly. Maybe because she’s not my same old-same old. But I have a nagging suspicion that if I take her upstairs and give her a very personal tour of my master suite, she might well be gone by morning.
Normally, that would seem like a great outcome. So why am I not down with her vacating the house I bought for my private retreat? No idea, but there it is. I’m rolling with it.
“Why don’t we swim first? I never got to test the pool before you fed me this amazing meal.”
“Sure.” She stands as if she doesn’t have a care in the world, but suddenly she won’t look at me as she lifts our plates to clear them from the table.
As Harlow bustles to the sink, I follow her, wrapping my fingers around her arm. “Hey.”
Somehow, she manages to ease out of my grip yet still set the plates in the sink. “If you’re not interested, it’s no big deal. I’ve heard no before.”
From a blind man? “Baby, I’m not saying no. I’m just saying that I’d rather not rush this. We have all night.”
Some of the ice melts from her chilly posture. “All right.”
“And not to sound like a fainting Victorian belle or anything, but I have a bitch of a headache.”
Concern creases her face. “Do you want something for that?”
I wish a good, old-fashioned orgasm would cure it…but probably not. “Ibuprofen and a cup of strong coffee?”
“Sure. I’ll start the pot. Tablets are in the pantry over there.” She points me in the right direction.
“Thanks,” I call over my shoulder as I walk into the enormous closet off the kitchen that Harlow has stocked with a few spices and canned goods. I shake out withdraw a couple of pills before putting the bottle back on the shelf.
When I emerge from the pantry, Harlow is staring at the coffee brewer, watching it drip. “How do you like it?”
Then it happens, just like before. One minute I’m in the moment. The next…nothing. And I know what’s coming. I start to sweat. Still, I try to open my mouth and form words.
I know if I push the sounds through, nothing coherent will come out. I’ll blurt some sound that can’t even pass as a “huh?” or “what?” I close my eyes, grit my teeth, and try again to remember the conversation. What did she ask me?
“You okay?”
Since there’s nothing wrong with my motor skills, I merely nod.
“Want your coffee black? Or do you just want to call it a night?”
I still can’t find my words, but at least I know she was asking me about coffee before I spaced out. Fuck. Why is this still happening to me?
I shake my head and try to snag the cup from the brewer. If I whip it up to my lips, maybe she won’t notice the silence. Black coffee is my preference. Why can’t I say that right now? I know the words. They’re in my head. I just can’t seem to get them to my mouth.
“Sit down.” She smooths out a frown. “I’ll wash the dishes and clean the kitchen.”
I’m afraid to look at Harlow again. Confusion on her face would be bad, pity way worse. I grip my mug and stare down into the dark brew, wondering how long the episode will last this time. I know sleep will help, but damn it, I don’t want to give up tonight with this woman. I’m not sure the chance will ever come again. Until this shit, I didn’t have much in the scintillating conversation department anyway, but to have zero? How can I get naked with her if I can’t even talk to her, ask her what pleases her?
Stubbornly, I shake my head.
She frowns. “Really. I’ve got this. Why don’t you hang on the sofa and I’ll join you when I’m done. It will only take ten minutes.”
