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If I’d met Moira at a bar one night and gone home with her, I knew what Evan would say. He’d laugh about me taking his sloppy seconds. Then in the next breath tell me how he fucked things up between them and if I wanted her, I should go for it.
And that I was being an idiot because I didn’t need his approval if she was what I wanted.
I did want her. More than was likely wise on my part. I was in over my head and sinking fast. Fuck, I’d want her even if she shaved her head and painted her bald scalp bright pink. So why in the hell was I sitting down here moping when I had a gorgeous woman inviting me not only into her bed, but into her life?
I was acting like a fucking idiot. Evan was dead. He wasn’t coming back. And even if he was alive, he wouldn’t be with Moira because she didn’t want Evan. She wanted me.
And I wanted her like I needed air to breathe.
Decision made, I rose and cleared the table. I stored the leftovers in the fridge and put the dirty dishes in the dishwasher. Then I headed up the stairs, turning off lights as I did so.
At the threshold of her door, I inhaled a deep breath. Once I did this, there was no going back. And maybe that’s what I needed, this woman to shake up my routine and my world. I didn’t know where this was going beyond the next few days.
But if life in the military taught me nothing else, it was to grab happiness wherever I found it and not let it go. Being with Moira, when it was just the two of us, made me happy.
So that’s what I was going to do. I was going to lay Evan’s ghost to rest so that it was no longer between us and be with her.
I pushed her bedroom door open. She stood at the foot of the king bed and its mound of pillows. The damn thing felt like sleeping on a marshmallow. But she had one of her delicate feet resting on the small bench while she rubbed lotion over her toned leg.
Spying me, relief flooded her gaze. Her smile was all seduction as she said, “Shut the door, Ben.”
I did what any man worth his salt would do—I shut the fucking door. Then watched a shiver run through her as I approached. And knew I’d made the right decision.
21
Ben approached like a big, sleek panther on the prowl. Every time I saw the bastard, it was like a lightning strike at my core.
He left me breathless. Aching. For him.
My entire body was attuned to his every movement. When I threw the gauntlet down earlier, I didn’t think he would take me up on my offer. I knew he was mourning Evan. I was too, but in a different way. But I figured that was it. We had our one amazing night together, and now it was done.
But Ben surprised me. He kept doing that. And it knocked me off my center of gravity.
He stood before me, not touching me. But the air grew thick with desire as we stared at one another. His gaze scorched my body in the flimsy robe. My nipples pebbled beneath his hard stare. My body ached for his touch, but I needed him to make the first move. This time felt important, like we were crossing another boundary. And for there to be a real chance for us, the first move had to come from him.
My body felt alive at the kinetic energy swirling between us as I waited. I needed him in ways I didn’t completely understand.
I wanted to scream and ask him what he was waiting for because my need for him was so enormous—but I knew. He was struggling to push past his guilt and take the next step. I couldn’t do it for him. He had to cross that divide on his own.
When he cupped my face, my breath exploded out of me in a rush. I shuddered at his touch. He stared deeply into my eyes. It was like he was searching the very heart of me.
Did he see how much I wanted him? Did he know that no one had ever taken care of me the way he did today? Did he realize that I stood on a precarious ledge and a single push would send me into a freefall? Did he understand I had feelings for him?
I knew it was fast and would likely freak him out if he knew the depths of my feelings. But I was a woman who knew her own heart and mind. And I didn’t believe in lying to myself, even when a lie would make it easier.
His thumb rubbed over my bottom lip. Tingles erupted from his caress. He breathed my name reverently. “Moira.”
I met him halfway when he lowered his mouth. I craved his lips with a soul-deep ache. What this man did with his mouth set me aflame. His kiss rocked me to my core. Because he kissed me and everything else went away.
My world whittled down to his magnificent mouth.
He walked me backward until my thighs brushed against the mattress. His hands caressed my back, pulling me tighter against him. I wrapped my arms around his neck as an anchor.
He undid the tie of my robe. He lifted his mouth and stared at me as he spread the robe open.
“You’re so fucking beautiful.”
Oh god, the way this man looked at me made me feel beautiful. I cupped his cheek, lost in his arctic gaze. “So are you.”
