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“Go ahead,” Moe said.
Breely shook her head. “No, you go first.”
“We need sleep. Neither one of us has to be uncomfortable. Seriously, this doesn’t have to be awkward. I’m not planning on making love to you or taking advantage of you in any way. I made a promise, and I won’t go back on it.”
If she wanted it, damn it, she had to take the bull by the horns and own it.
“What if I want you to make love to me?” she blurted out.
He stared down at her without touching her. His eyes narrowed. “Is this hypothetical, or are you asking?”
She slid her tongue across her lips. “Asking,” she whispered.
He tilted his head toward her as if he couldn’t quite hear what she was saying.
“Damn it.” Breely stomped her foot and lifted her chin. “Morris Cleveland, will you make love to me?”
Did his eyes flare?
Breely stared up at him, her breath lodged in her lungs, waiting for his response.
For a long moment, he held her gaze, unmoving, unblinking and completely poker-faced.
Breely teetered on the verge of accepting the inevitable, grabbing the blankets and locking herself in the bathroom for a long night of cursing and sexual frustration.
Her muscles bunched for flight.
Moe raised a hand and cupped her cheek. “Are you sure that’s what you want? We barely know each other.”
“I know your life story; you know mine.” she laughed shakily. “What more do we need to know?”
He brushed his thumb across her cheek. “What’s your favorite color? Do you have a favorite flower? Are you a dog person or a cat person? Do you have a favorite side of the bed you like to sleep on?” His thumb slid across her bottom lip. “What are your views on foreplay?”
Breely held his gaze with a steady one of her own. She knew what she wanted, and she was going all in to get it. “Blue. Tulips because they remind me of spring. Dog. The right side. Overrated.” She laid a hand on his bare chest. “I’ve asked. It’s now your choice.”
Her heart beat hard in her chest, her pulse pounding so fast she was afraid her veins would explode with the force of it. The seconds ticked by so slowly she thought she’d die.
When Moe opened his mouth…his lips moved and then closed tight. He bent, gathered Breely in his arms and carried her to the right side of the bed, laying her gently on the sheets. “You’re free to stop me at any moment. I can’t promise it’ll be easy, but I will stop.”
She reached up and cupped his cheeks in her palms. “I want you to stop…” she leaned up and touched her lips to his, “stop talking and start making love to me.”
He smiled and pressed a hard kiss to her lips. As he lingered, his mouth gentled, and his tongue pushed past her teeth to glide along hers, claiming it in a sensuous dance.
The kiss stole her soul and her breath, leaving her shaking with the feelings it provoked.
Moe straightened beside the bed. “I’ll be right back.” He returned to the bathroom.
Breely lay on the bed as if her life was a movie on pause. Everything inside was frozen on the screen, ready to resume as soon as the master hit the play button.
A second passed, then another.
Moe emerged from the bathroom and held up an accordion of condoms with a grin.
The play button engaged, and Breely laughed. “Think we’ll use that many tonight?”
“A man has to have goals, doesn’t he?” Moe tossed the condoms on the pillow beside her, hooked his thumbs in the elastic band of his shorts and shoved them over his hips. The shorts fell to the floor.
Breely’s gaze swept his length from head to toe, coming to rest on the jutting evidence of his desire for her.
