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“Jake!” she protests, whisper-shouting.
But I don’t let go of her gorgeous face. I want her attention, her eyes, the connection we’ve shared from the first time we spoke. Not this cold indifference, but the sassy hot girl I’ve been sparring with since yesterday morning.
“I apologized several times, and I meant it.”
I let my fingers fall from her chin.
“I slept with a beautiful woman in my arms. It’s only natural I woke up with a hard-on. You were all warm and soft in the best places. And moaning my name. It was like a fantasy come true.”
“I… I moaned your name?” She asks.
I nod.
“I didn’t know that.” Her gaze gets lost in her thoughts. “Thought I was dreaming too,” Anna finally admits. Fuck, but I like her honesty!
“Was it a good dream?” I ask teasingly, wanting to bring a smile to her lips. Bingo.
“Very…” her mouth curves up, and the twinkle in her eye makes my cock twitch.
“Anna…” I warn.
“What? You asked.” She deadpans, shrugging her round shoulders, left bare by a cute white and navy striped top.
She’s paired it with a pair of tight fitting black leggings and flats. Her hair big and curly. Hardly wearing any make-up. Looking gorgeous and refreshed after our night at the hotel. Tempting me like no one ever has.
I’m dressed in my own single change of clothes I had stuffed in my carry-on, another combination of sweats, cotton t-shirt, and hoodie. Ever the athlete. The way Anna looks at me, I feel the heat of her eyes on the strained fabric over my thighs, chest, and arms. I know she likes what she sees, so why the resistance?
“I want to ask you something,” I, once again, interrupt her magazine browsing.
She closes it in her lap and gives me her full attention. Expression calm, a faint smile lingering over her tempting mouth. Damn, the poker face on this one.
“Shoot.”
“Why did you say nothing could happen between us?”
She studies my face, eyes roaming over my features, coming back to meet mine. Then sighs, long.
“When was the last time you slept with a woman on the very day you met her?”
I scratch my head, scrunching my face, trying to remember.
“Exactly. I don’t want to be a non-memory of your sex life.”
“Oh,” is all I can say.
Her response doesn’t really surprise me, it matches what I’ve read of her character so far, smart, self-assured.
She exhales another deep breath.
“I want to take my time, and make choices I’m comfortable with in the long run. Not spur-of-the-moment decisions that might lead to short-lived pleasures, and lasting dissatisfaction.”
“Why would you be dissatisfied?”
Another shoulder lift that brings my attention to the smooth, deep brown skin, and makes me want to drop a myriad of kisses on its expanse.
“I just broke up with my boyfriend of ten years, and I’ve never had a one-night-stand. I doubt this is the right time for me to start,” she says softly, still holding my gaze. Simply telling me how it is. No harshness or acerbity.
“Makes sense.”
