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“But you have your rule.”
I turn. She’s leaning against the door frame, water droplets dotting her shoulders and chest. Her hair is damp. My towel swamps her, covering her sexy thighs and trim waist and small perky breasts.
“I guess you’re used to men falling at your feet, huh?” I say.
To my surprise, she laughs. “I’m a novelty. They might fall at my feet but the second they’ve got what they wanted, they’re out of there. So I figured, why not set the terms myself? Not all women need to be looking for a husband.”
“And not all guys need to be looking for a quick fuck.”
“I’m happy to take my time with you.”
I bite back a moan. “You didn’t lock yourself out on purpose, did you?”
“Nope. I really was trying to dispose of a pizza box.” She draws her fingertip across her chest. “Cross my heart.”
Would it really hurt to break my own rules just one time? She’s not staying for long so there’s no chance of it getting messy. I want her. There’s absolutely no denying that—my cock’s been like a soldier snapping to attention since the night I rescued her from that stairwell. Every time I think about her—think about the peep show and the dirty phone call...bam!
That’s what you get from self-imposing celibacy for so long. Whenwasthe last time I had sex? I can’t even remember. And now my body is starved. Desperate. Coiled like a hungry animal with a big, tasty deer in its path.
Only this deer wants to be caught.
“I don’t know anything about you,” I say in a last-ditch attempt to put some distance between us.
Her lip quirks and she steps into my room, one hand at the knot holding the towel closed. “I’m a Pisces who enjoys long walks on the beach and candlelit dinners.”
“Liar.”
“See, youdoknow something about me.” Her grin is wicked. “Doesn’t that sound a whole lot better than jaded rebel who doesn’t believe in relationships and only wears black?”
“The second woman sounds a whole lot more real to me.”
She’s close now, and I trace my finger along the top edge of her towel, skirting the knot and soft skin behind it.
“And that’s exactly why I’ve stayed away,” I add. “You’re not my type.”
“How’s your ‘type’ working out for you, then?” She tilts her face up to mine.
“Horribly.”
“Exactly what I thought.” Her hands slide up my chest.
“Why do you keep chasing a guy who’s doing his best to push you away?” I close my hands over hers, halting her. My bedroom is dim, the only light coming from the hallway. It’s intimate here, in the shadows, and I feel like a different man. Looser, less inhibited. Like the old me. “Why put in that much work?”
“Ah, you think I’m a glutton for punishment.” She ducks her head. “Maybe I am. But here’s what I figure—you want long-term, but not with a girl like me. So I’m safe, and things won’t get awkward. We can have some fun, then I’ll take off and you won’t ever see me again. I need a palate cleanser and you’re alsonotmytype.”
“Then how the fuck is this chemistry so hot?” It doesn’t make sense—we both know we’re wrong for one another on a visceral level. I want a serious woman, a career-driven, family-oriented, long-term woman. The total opposite of her. She probably wants a man who’s light and fun and makes her laugh.
And yet...she has me salivating like one of Pavlov’s dogs. She has me thinking about her, reaching for my harder than steel cock every damn night.
“I honestly don’t know,” she says with a shrug. “But you feel it, right?”
“I wish I didn’t.” I let out a breath. “But there’s something about you, Blondie. Something crazy sexy. You’re like a thorn.”
“Is that a good thing?”
“I don’t know, but I’ve lost the ability to care.” I lean down, still holding her hands against my chest. She tilts her head back and opens her lips, inviting me in.
The kiss is sweeter than I thought it would be—tentative and soft. Like she’s testing me. I’m sure this prickly woman isn’t so hard on the inside; she’s tender and delicate and clearly trying to protect herself.
