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“Noted. Listen to my deal, please?”
“Does it have anything to do with being naked?” A tease sparked in her eyes.
“Only if you want it to. I was thinking more along the lines of helping each other figure out who we are. We can start tonight, after I kick everyone out of my apartment and you catch up on your million messages.”
“No way. You’re not going to kick everyone out because of me.”
“I hear talking is a good way to get to know each other.”
“Haven’t we talked enough? That’s a scary idea,” she said with an adorably shy smile.
“Because you think I have a hidden agenda, and I do.” He let that sink in for a moment. “I’m not ready for this to end, Summers. Are you?”
She looked at him for so long he feared he’d lost her, and then she reached for him and went up on her toes, answering with a slow, drugging kiss. When their lips parted, she smiled up at him with that lusty look in her eyes he adored.
“I don’t want it to end either,” she said softly. “I was just embarrassed and upset.”
“I know. But we need some time to get to know each other where we won’t end up in bed. Not that I don’t want to end up in bed, but I need you to know I want much more than hot sex with you, Summers. I’d suggest a date, but you’ve made it pretty clear that you don’t have time for that.”
She pressed her palm to the center of his chest and smiled up at him. “This guy I know once told me to make time. I’d like to try that.”
“Yeah?” He couldn’t suppress his grin.
“Yeah. Tomorrow night?” she asked hesitantly.
“Absolutely. Seven o’clock?”
She nodded. The worry in her eyes set off alarms in his head.
“Summers, you can bring your phone, and you can handle anything you need to. We’ll figure this out together.”
He leaned down to kiss her good night and she said, “I’ll turn it off.”
“Hm?” His lips hovered over hers.
“The phone. When we’re on our date, I’ll turn it off.” She pressed her hand to the pocket of her jacket where her phone had finally gone silent. “For a little while, at least.”
“Baby steps,” he said, feeling like he’d won the lottery. “I’ll bring Xanax.”
Chapter Fourteen
“A MOTORCYCLE HELMET? Are you kidding?” Tiffany stared at the helmet like it was a ticking time bomb. It was Friday night and Dylan had texted her earlier in the day with a cryptic message about eating something at least an hour before their date and wearing comfortable clothes she wouldn’t mind getting sweaty in. That had spurred a laundry list of sexual innuendos, which she loved, but he’d refused to tell her where they were going.
“Don’t tell me the woman who goes to battle on a daily basis with hard-nosed negotiators andwinsis afraid of motorcycles.” Using his forearms, he pulled her in tight, the helmets banging together in his hands behind her back as he kissed her neck.
She tipped her head back, enjoying the sensual attention he lavished on her and the feel of him getting hard as their bodies rubbed together. Something inside her shifted last night. She’d fought herself for so long, it was as much of a relief as it was scary to let her guard down, and she hoped she was right in thinking that Dylan would be worthy of her trust.
“I’m not afraid of motorcycles,” she insisted, and pulled her hair over her shoulder so he could kiss farther back on her neck. He laughed against her skin, sending chills down her arms. “I just didn’t know you drove one.”
“There’s a lot about me you don’t know.” He sank his teeth into her nape.
“Ouch! Dylan!” She laughed and he gave her a quick kiss on the lips.
“Come on, sexy girl.” He smacked her ass. “I love these yoga pants. You’re hotter than a whiskey skin cocktail.”
She’d worn black yoga pants and a black tank top beneath a zip-up hoodie, which felt strange, considering she usually only wore them when she was working alone in her apartment. Knowing Dylan liked them so much made her glad she had.
“I’ve never had a whiskey skin cocktail, but now I have to try one.” She lifted his hand off her ass. “I thought this was supposed to be a nonsexual date.”
