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, tucked against his side, her forearm draped over washboard abs so impressive she’d already promised herself she’d eat less chocolate and do sit-ups every morning.
Or maybe just sit-ups, she amended. Life was too short to deny herself chocolate.
Or wild, exhilarating sex...
‘Jordan?’ His arms tightened around her and his large hand stroked up and down her arm.
She felt her heart thud unevenly. She reminded herself she mustn’t enjoy this part too much. They’d had amazing sex, but she would not build it into something it wasn’t in her head. Her rose-tinted glasses would remain firmly under lock and key.
But a little post-coital euphoria wouldn’t do her any harm. Besides, how could she pretend that being cocooned in these big, strong arms was anything less than bliss? Not to mention a surprise. Who would have pegged the formidable Xavier de la Vega as a cuddler?
Smiling to herself, she tucked her chin back down and let her gaze drift across his hair-roughened chest. ‘What was the question again?’
‘What are you thinking about?’
She was thinking he had ruined her future sex-life, because no other man would ever compare. ‘I reserve the right not to answer that question.’
‘On what grounds?’
‘On the grounds that my answer may go to your head.’
‘Which head?’
She was slow to register his meaning. Then a snigger escaped her. ‘I can’t believe you said that.’
‘Says the woman who asked me to f—’
She jerked up and slapped her fingers over his mouth. ‘That’s different,’ she defended, colour singeing her cheeks. ‘That was in the heat of the moment.’
And the heat in that particular moment had been blistering—so intense Jordan had half expected the sheets to ignite and engulf them both in flames.
She’d sensed the change in Xavier, known the exact moment his prized control slipped from his grasp. Had he been another man, his sheer size and the power of his body as he surged between her legs might have made her feel vulnerable, but she trusted Xavier, and instead of fear she’d felt a thrill of wild excitement. His control had been in tatters because of her, and that intoxicating knowledge had made her brazen. Daring.
He grabbed her wrist and tugged so she ended up sprawled over his chest. Her pulse quickened. The light abrasion of chest hair against her sensitive breasts was far too tantalising.
His grey eyes gleamed. ‘I never would have picked you for a dirty talker, Ms Walsh.’
Neither would she. But then she wouldn’t have picked herself for a one-night stand kind of girl, either.
The thought was unwelcome and sobering. A reminder that this—whatever ‘this’ was, exactly—was temporary. Just how temporary she hadn’t yet worked out. For all she knew Xavier could be intending on taking her back to the ferry terminal tomorrow. Maybe for him once was enough.
A tiny sliver of ice pierced her euphoria.
Quickly she rolled away, managing to reach the side of the bed before a strong arm looped around her waist and hauled her back against a hot, muscular body.
Xavier growled in her ear. ‘Where do you think you’re going?’
Treacherous heat poured through her. ‘I—I put my things in one of the other bedrooms.’
She hadn’t wanted to make any assumptions about where she’d sleep—and she was glad now that she hadn’t. It gave her an excuse to vacate his bed without suffering the humiliation of being asked to leave. The cuddling had been nice, but just because he held her in the immediate aftermath of lovemaking it didn’t mean he wanted her in his bed all night.
‘I moved your things. They’re here...in the dressing room.’
‘Oh.’ And now she felt foolish.
‘Do you have a problem with sleeping in my bed, Jordan?’ His voice was dark and velvety, with the tiniest hint of menace.
‘No. I just...’ She tried for a careless shrug. ‘I don’t know what the rules are, that’s all...’ Her face burned. ‘I don’t usually do this sort of thing.’
