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After Patrick had shredded what little self-esteem she had when it came to sex, she was beginning to seriously doubt herself. But then she remembered the way Ryland had kissed her earlier. No one had ever devoured her like that before and it turned her on like crazy.
That little voice of doubt in her head was chattering away, though, and she couldn’t help but fear she was more attracted to him than he was to her. And if that were the case then she’d crawl outside and bury her head in the sand.
So humiliating.Like Patrick all over again, telling her that their sex life had left him wanting and disappointed.
Harper dragged her hands over her face and sighed heavily. Maybe this was a horrible idea and it would be better if she just forgot about—
“Hey.” Ryland’s soft voice interrupted her thoughts. He stood in the doorway, a towel loosely wrapped around his narrow hips.
Harper couldn’t help it. She openly stared, unable to stop her mouth from opening. A broad chest, strong shoulders, narrow waist. Those delicious indentations that created a V. Her eyes zeroed in on a water droplet as it slid down his firm torso and got lost in a groove of his insane six-pack abs. The urge to find that lone drop and lick it away had her fisting the comforter.
Forcing her gaze back up, Harper tried to ignore her pulse thundering in her ears.
His lips twitched as he said, “I forgot my clothes.”
And that was fine with her. She nodded, unable to find her voice, and he walked in, bent over and unzipped his duffel bag.
Holy hotness.Harper dropped her head back, eyes fixed on the ceiling, and silently mouthed, “Oh. My. God.”
All that chiseled perfection left her head spinning. She was at a complete loss. Thoughts of seduction flew out the window because the idea of being with a man like that—a freaking Adonis—made her so nervous, her throat went dry and her palms started sweating.
Patrick’s slightly below-average body looked nothing like Ryland Mills. And if she hadn’t been good enough for Patrick, how in the world would she be able to please the sun-bronzed god standing before her.
Pulling her eyes off his tight ass, Harper tried not to drool as Ryland stood back up and turned around. His cobalt eyes met hers and she swore they were filled with amusement. “Mind if I borrow a blanket?”
“N-no. Of course not.” Sliding off the bed, she grabbed the bedspread she’d been sitting on and handed it to him.
“Thanks.” He took it and tilted his head. “Are you okay?”
Every once in a while, for whatever reason, a situation came along that made Harper so nervous she’d start talking and not be able to stop. It didn’t happen often, but she could feel the babble bubbling up and there wasn’t a thing she could do as the word vomit spilled from her mouth.
“I feel bad making you sleep on the couch,” she began, twisting her hands. “It looks really uncomfortable and way too short for your long legs. You look even taller than usual. Which is weird because I mean, I know you’re tall. Probably what? Six two or three? I’m only five three which is so short, but that’s why there are heels right? My sister, Savannah, she’s taller than me and—”
“Harper,” he interrupted. She immediately shut up and was on the verge of crawling out the door and burying her runaway mouth in the sand when he reached out and laid a finger over her lips. “Breathe, sweetheart.”
Her lips parted, she sucked in a breath and, without thinking, wrapped her lips around his finger. Seemingly of its own accord, her tongue swirled around the tip as she sucked lightly.
All traces of humor left his face and fierce need took its place as he pulled in a sharp breath. He dropped the blanket and gripped her hip, fingers digging into her skin.
Reality came crashing back and Harper released his finger with a pop and swallowed hard. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, trying to bring her brain back on-line to make a quick escape. She began to pull back, but he grabbed her, dragging her body forward.
“Don’t you dare be sorry for doing the sexiest damn thing I’ve ever seen,” he ordered huskily. He slid his other hand through her hair, gaze searching hers. “Why are you so jumpy?”
“Because—” Her voice faltered. “I mean, look at you.”
“Look atyou,” he countered. “I’m the one who’s nervous as hell.”
A frown appeared between her brows. “You?”
“Sweetheart, you are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on and right now I’m committed to sleeping on that godawful couch so I don’t push things too far and chase you away. Now tell me, what’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”
Okay, here was her big chance. Gathering her courage, Harper let go of her anxiety and threw caution to the wind. “I want you to stay here with me. If we’re running out of time, I want this night with you, Ryland.”
Chapter Twelve
Ryland stood there, studying her in silence for the briefest moment. Then he yanked Harper against his damp skin and his mouth crashed against hers, consuming it with an unrelenting passion she’d never felt from a man before. It was even hotter than the kiss on the beach. Probably because only a thin towel separated their bodies.
After what felt like forever, they broke apart, panting. “Don’t you dare doubt how badly I want you,” Ryland murmured, tugging her even closer so she couldn’t miss his rock-hard arousal pressing into her belly.
