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“Don’t. Please. You’ll make it worse.” His muffled voice shook.
She petted him as if she were gentling a skittish animal. “I’m glad that my humiliation is so entertaining for you,” she said. “Go ahead. Hyuck it up at my expense, Nick. I’m used to it.”
“Aw, fuck.” The shaking of his back redoubled. “Please. Shut up.”
“I guess it is funny in a way,” she went on, philosophically. “Gives the term ‘man-eating slut’ a whole new meaning, doesn’t it?”
He made an explosive sneezing sound, and off he went again.
Watching him in the grip of a laughing fit gave her a curious feeling of power. It would probably do him good, since a macho caveman like him would never have the sense to give in to tears. This worked just as well. She stroked the thick, trembling contours of his back and waited.
It took a while, but he finally lifted his face from his hands, wiped his eyes, muttering under his breath in whatever the hell that twisty, thick-sounding language he’d spoken all weekend was. Grinning.
Her breath caught, her jaw dropped. He was so gorgeous when he smiled like that. Radiant. She loved the crinkles around his eyes, the grooves around his mouth. Wow. She had to remember to breathe.
He gave her a wary glance. His grin faded. “What’s that look?”
Her mouth went dry. “I…I was just thinking how beautiful you are when you smile,” she whispered.
Not a muscle moved in the mask of his face, but she felt the light go on inside him. And the answering one flare up inside her chest.
CHAPTER13
Avoice was yammering on about how he would trash it, yada yada, how much more it was going to hurt her if he kept on down this road, how bitterly she would hate his guts, blah blah, so on and so on.
Didn’t help. This mindless wanting was inexorable and huge. He swung around to face her, sank to his knees in front of her. Kneeling like the desperate supplicant that he was.
He stared at her face. Jesus. Becca was dangerous, she was so fucking pretty. She had to tone it down. Wear a bag over her head. People would remember her face even if they had no particular reason to do so.
She made his eyes ache. That hot pink blush, the delicate line of her cheekbone, her jaw. And that mouth just did it to him, especially that pouty lower lip with the seam down the middle. So sexy, so soft. One look at that mouth would have made him stone hard, if he had not already been so. His dick strained in his jeans, like he hadn’t just had the most amazing volcanic lay of his whole life. And the cock-teasing robe gaping over her cleavage did not help matters.
Her knees poked out of the crumpled robe. He put his hands over them. Her tongue flashed out to moisten her lips. He stared into that dim triangle between the draped panels of silk over her clamped thighs, where the hot stuff hid.
Her pale white knees were covered with scratches and scabs. He leaned down, kissed them. The callused spots on his hands snagged at fragile fabric, until his hands found skin, and greedily sought more, pushing the silk up over her legs. The robe gaped at her navel right under the knotted sash. Showing her dark muff.
Her legs shook too much to keep them clamped against the relentless pressure of his fingers. He pressed them open, and stared down into her shadowy mysteries, the holy of holies. Her beautiful cunt was ready for him.
His fingers tightened. His balls, too.
The unmistakable purpose on his face made her scramble back. She lurched to her feet, batting his hands, and swathed herself with a swirling flutter of rose-print fabric. “Cool it, right now! My landlady is downstairs and the neighbors can see us from their window!”
“I don’t care,” he said.
“Of course you don’t,” she said crisply. “You’re a caveman. We’ve already established that.”
“So can I throw you over my shoulder? Drag you into my cave?”
“No, you may not!” she snapped. “This ismycave! You can carry in the coffee mugs, and put them in the sink. That’s what you can do.”
“Shouldn’t have asked,” he said. “Asking was a big tactical error.”
She folded her arms under her tits. Her nipples poked through the threadbare fabric. “Too bad you didn’t think of that before.”
Laughter threatened, but he had plans for the next half hour that did not include another sobbing fit, so he breathed it carefully down. He scooped up coffee cups with one hand, Becca with the other, and pushed her, stumbling ahead of him into the kitchen. He deadbolted the door, rinsed the cups, and set them carefully in the drainer.
He turned to her. “So?”
She gave him a narrow look. “So what?”
