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“Why, because of your magic dick?” I scoffed, immediately regretting my sarcastic tone. God, was I actually trying to scare him away?
But Ethan didn’t look scared or angry, just amused. “It’s a little premature to call my dick magic,” he said mildly. “I’m talking about what happened between us when we fought those guys in the elevator.”
“How so?” I demanded. “What of it? I fight when I have to.”
“You saved my life,” he said. “You were there for me. A complete stranger. You covered for me, blocked for me, watched out for me. You had my back.”
“Well, duh,” I said. “Of course. And you did the same for me. So?”
“They would have had me,” he said. “There were too many of them. But you were there. You were brave, fast, smart. You made the difference. That inspires trust. Not just relaxing enough to come. I’m talking the real thing. Real trust. Real intimacy.”
“Ah…” I realized that my mouth was open, and closed it. “You might be getting ahead of yourself. I told you that I intend to bug out of here and go back to my life. Not explore the outer limits of sexual intimacy as a trapped concubine in your gilded cage.”
He laughed at me. “That has real possibilities as a hot sexual fantasy.”
“I’m serious, Ethan.”
“So am I. You can trust me. You already have trusted me. With your life. I came through for you, just like you came through for me. Let’s start there. Build on that.”
I grunted. “Combat…sex…same thing. Really, Masters? There’ll be slightly less blood and bruising, I hope.”
He rolled his eyes. “Don’t pretend to misunderstand me.”
“I don’t see the parallel,” I said. “That fight went by really fast. Badda-bing-badda-boom, and we were down in the garage in the middle of a gunfight. I don’t see how that relates to my sex life.”
He sighed. “All I’m saying is, trusting me might not be so hard if you remember that you’ve already done it, and it turned out okay. I didn’t let you down.”
Ah. For the first time, what he was saying made sense to me. Like a little ray of light. Fleeting, but nice.
Yes, it was true. I had trusted him. And I had lived to tell the tale. Of course, he had promptly fucked it up afterward by muscling me into his helicopter, but hey. I was getting over that remarkably fast. A bottle of Prosecco, a fabulous hearty meal, some good wine, and his naked body right in my face? Damn. I was more flexible than I’d ever dreamed. Disposed to let bygones be bygones.
“Okay, you have a point,” I said. “I trusted you, and we lived. Now what?”
He reached out, so slowly that I had all the time in the world to prepare, to brace myself. No need to flinch as he traced the angle of my cheekbone, the point of my jaw.
“Close your eyes,” he said.
I swallowed back my knee-jerkhell, no, and examined it. That was just my alarm system, functioning exactly how I had wired it up to function. I would never get what I wanted from this guy unless I reprogrammed the damn thing.
I gave him a jerky nod, and closed my eyes. “Don’t make me stay this way too long,” I said. “It’s a big waste. You’re hot, and I like to admire your assets.”
That made him laugh, but then he moved around behind me, the heat coming off him surrounding me. And my body reached for it, pined for it, ached for contact with his skin, but he was not touching me yet. That tease.
“So?” I asked, impatiently. “What are you waiting for?”
“The right moment.” There was a hint of humor in that deep, rumbling voice that was like the stroke of something silken, something furry, making the nerves in my skin shiver and thrill.
“News flash, buddy,” I told him. “The moment has arrived.”
“I’ll be the judge of that,” he said.
My body shook with a burst of sharp laughter. “Oh, will you? Who died and made you king?”
“Nobody. I am not being arrogant. I’m just paying attention. Slow down. Breathe. You’ll feel it. You’ll see what I mean. We need to get in synch. In tune.”
His voice was so soft, so patient. Usually by this time, my would-be lovers were evaluating their poor life choices, and deciding that an erotic tumble with the razor-tongued Amazon blonde was not worth the cuts and bruises.
And I didn’t blame them. I hurt guys’ feelings, always. I put them on the defensive, and made them feel emasculated, all of it. I was a hot mess as a sex partner.
