by Lori Foster
She didn’t want to talk about that, not now, not when her emotions already felt so raw and exposed. “You’re only playing with me, aren’t you?”
He gave a sigh of long-suffering affront. “I’ve been a perfect gentleman, despite your provocation.” Then he glanced down at their layered bodies. “Though I’ll admit playing with you has entered my mind several times.”
Good, she thought. Let’s play, and you can quit trying to confuse me with things I can’t accept. She thought it, but she hoped her silent encouragement wasn’t too obvious.
He sat up, then pulled her up, too. She swallowed her disappointment as he moved to her side, trying to concentrate on what he had to say.
“It’s all settled. I can get most of my stuff moved in over this weekend, if that’s okay with you. Actually I was really relieved when you asked. I was only kidding about you having to beg me. This will work out perfect. It’s been a real pain letting people through the house with me living there. I’m not a slob or anything, but I hated having to worry about every little thing I left out of place. And people have no respect for your privacy. They snoop through drawers and cabinets as if they already own the place. This way, with me living here, I’ll still be close enough to supervise things, which is why I moved into the model home in the first place, but my privacy will be protected.” He raised a brow in her direction. “That is, as long as you don’t suffer a penchant for prying.”
Her back stiffened. “I do not pry.”
“You said you asked Karen personal questions about me.”
“I didn’t have to ask,” she sputtered indignantly. “She gloated on and on about what a phenomenal stud you are. She practically shoved the information down my throat. I tried not to listen—”
“But she was insistent? How annoying for you.” His smug grin set her teeth on edge and set her head to pounding. Now that he no longer touched her, she was beginning to see the situation with just a tad more clarity. Still, there was too much she couldn’t remember.
“I have no recollection of asking you to move in. In fact, I never once considered such a thing.” Not seriously, anyway.
“Well, why not? We’ve always gotten along well. Are you telling me you made promises while you were drunk that you’ve no intention of keeping?”
That was the rub. She wanted to grab this opportunity and take complete advantage of it and him. He was the most compelling man she’d ever met, with a strength and gentleness that formed a potent mix. This could prove to be a page right out of her fantasies. She thought of Gavin’s skilled hands, his confidence and capability, and her stomach leaped in encouragement. Say yes, say yes, her body screamed.
But she’d made a vow to herself after her breakup with Ted. Never again would she leave herself open and vulnerable to humiliation. A woman should only have to suffer one such incident in her lifetime, and she’d had her quota. She would have to stay in control of any situation, especially those involving men. Right now, with Gavin, she certainly wasn’t feeling any sense of real control; she was mired three feet under in deep, dark confusion. He seemed to want her, yet he kept pulling away. Not far away, especially given that he wanted to move in, but just enough to make her want him more, when she already wanted him plenty! It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t the behavior she was used to from men. Not that she’d been a highly sought after female, but the men she had known had made their intentions plain. Gavin was evidently willing to keep her guessing. But why?
When she remained quiet, Gavin prompted her with a slight nudge to her shoulder. “Well?”
Feeling trapped, she asked with a degree of obvious caution, “Did I make very many promises last night?”
His look was suggestive. “A few.”
Her teeth sank into her bottom lip, and she saw his gaze drop to follow the action, the intensity of that gaze palpable. She immediately hid her teeth behind her lips, but not before their thoughts collided. They were each remembering last night, and the fact he thought she was sexy.
She had to give herself a few minutes to collect her composure, without his disturbing influence, before she made any decisions. Gavin had the power to hurt her much more than Ted ever could have. Ted had been a solution, but Gavin was a desire, a need, a dark craving. To have him, for whatever reason, and then lose him, could be devastating. “Why don’t you meet me in the kitchen after I shower and change and we can…discuss all this.”
“Hell of an idea.” He was already on his feet, moving with an air of triumph. “I’ll throw together some breakfast.”
Her nervousness was enough to choke a cow, and her stomach rebelled at the mere thought of food. “I don’t think…”
“Don’t worry. I promise to go light.” He was halfway out of the room before he added, “I’m an excellent cook, Sara, and I don’t mind pitching in. I’ve even been accused of being fun on occasion, so you shouldn’t have any complaints at all.”
Gorgeous and an excellent cook? But what was all that nonsense about him being fun?
Sara heaved a sigh. She had no idea what was going on. One thing was certain, he had her interest. It was almost too good to be true, though she wanted it to be.
God, how she wanted it to be.
It was terribly risky, especially since she knew deep down that if she accepted Gavin, on whatever silly terms he spoke of, she might end up totally devastated.
Then again, since she was no longer looking for husband material, knowing exactly how futile that endeavor would be, Gavin might very well be the perfect roommate. She couldn’t expect a man like him to commit himself to one woman. Commitment was no longer a requirement. Right? She nodded her head at her own question, but still wasn’t convinced. As long as she had her fair share of his time…
Ground rules, that’s what they needed. He should be hers exclusively for at least a while. She could glut herself on his masculine charms, then move on to newer game. Men did it all the time.
The thought of newer game actually sickened her. Lately all men had seemed a big turnoff, at least romantically. But not Gavin. Maybe that was because he was such a good friend, too.
She saved the uninteresting, disturbing thoughts of greener pastures for later and concentrated on the glutting part while she prepared for her shower. Now that was enough to get a woman wide-eyed and bushy-tailed in the morning. Everyone deserved a little fantasy time, and it looked like this might be hers.
Maybe this would all work out after all.
* * *
GAVIN’S PLAN WAS MOVING along rather smoothly. All he needed now were a few ground rules. He had to get Sara to commit, somehow, even if for a short while. He’d work on extending that time as they went along, teaching her to trust him, to trust her own feelings again, and eventually, she would be his. Only his.
It would have to be a unique role reversal, but he planned to hold out on her. She wanted him, that much was obvious. Not as much as he wanted her, which was impossible given his constant state of arousal. But he was more determined, and therefore it stood to reason he could control his reactions better. At least, he hoped he could. He prayed he could. Damn, could he?
It wouldn’t be easy. It would be his greatest challenge. More so than building an expansive house, more than doing a renovation, more than…
He grinned, thinking he had likened himself to a superhero, ready to leap tall buildings to rescue his lady-fair—by withholding sex. Actually, leaping a building might be easier than holding out on Sara.
She wasn’t a woman who inspired higher levels of celibacy. Not when she went all soft and warm and willing every time he touched her.
But he wouldn’t let her use him.
He chuckled out loud, pondering his course of action. He’d force her to be a gentlewoman and do the honorable thing, namely marriage. Teasing her would be fun, and a type of stratospheric sensual torture, because teasing her meant teasing himself and he was already on the ragged edge of lust. But with the promise of success, he could take it.
H
opefully Sara couldn’t.
He had breakfast ready when she wandered in, looking refreshed and in control. Her cutoffs matched his own, but she wore a pastel T-shirt, where he opted to remain shirtless. He hadn’t missed her fascination with his chest, and while he’d always been aware of the attention from other women, it hadn’t mattered to him nearly as much as Sara’s appreciation. He knew if she hadn’t liked him as a man, she wouldn’t have given his body more than a single, cursory glance. But she did like him, and she did a lot of gawking, not just glancing. So if flaunting his body would help capture Sara, he’d flaunt away without an ounce of remorse.
“Feeling better now?”
She gave him a wary look, then nodded. He was pleased to see she was still uncertain how to deal with him. As long as he kept her off center his odds of success were improved. She didn’t want marriage, so he was going to have to sneak it in on her.
“Breakfast smells good.”
“Then your appetite has returned. I’m glad. You never did eat your sandwich last night.”
When she looked puzzled, he decided to be benevolent and explain. “You fell asleep. I carried you to bed.”
Her eyes widened. “Then…?”
“Nothing happened, Sara. Is that what you’re wondering about?” He tried for a look of masculine affront. “I told you I behaved myself, though I swear it wasn’t easy.”
He loved how she blushed. Looking down to avoid his gaze, she pushed her hair behind her ears and fidgeted. Gavin waited, fighting to keep his amusement hidden.
“Last night is…something of a blur. At least parts of it are. Some things I remember clear as a bell, but others…” She hesitated, then forged on. “I have no memory of asking you to move in. None at all.”
Guilt swamped him. She looked too confused, vulnerable, too. He considered confessing, maybe giving her some partial truths that would reassure her, when she shook her head.
“It doesn’t matter. I’ll be glad to have you.”
Gavin felt his lips twitch, along with his heart and other numerous, masculine parts of his body. “Have me?”
Her eyes flared, and she stammered, “That is, I mean, I’ll be glad to have you here.”
He raised one brow, his skeptical gaze going to the kitchen tabletop.
“I don’t mean have you, have you, I mean…You could come here…”
He opened his mouth but she quickly cut him off.
“No! I don’t mean…” Slapping a hand to her forehead, she said, “I’d…I’d like you to move in.”
He never said a word, giving her the chance to state her intentions outright. She had to make the ultimate decisions of what and who she wanted.
“It will have to be a complete partnership. I’ll continue with the house payment myself. The rest of the bills we’ll divide down the middle, even the groceries. And we’ll have to share all the chores.” Then she seemed to consider that. “Although, if you really do know how to cook, maybe we could work out a deal. I wouldn’t mind doing the grocery shopping and cleaning up the kitchen if you’d fix the meals. It’s the truth, I’m an awful cook.”
“No problem. When I can’t cook, we’ll order in or dine out. What do you say?”
She looked suspicious again, so he tried a very sincere smile, which only deepened her frown. “That’s fine, I guess, but there are a few more things we need to iron out.”
She seemed entirely too serious, so Gavin handed her a plate of food, hoping to distract her from her thoughts. “Here, eat while we talk. You need some nutrition after your raucous night of drunken revelry.”
She accepted the plate, then breathed deep of the combined scents of scrambled eggs, toasted English muffins and fresh fruit. “It really does smell delicious. I hadn’t realized I was so hungry.”
Gavin watched her taste everything, then nod approval. He said, “My mom and sisters didn’t want to turn me loose when I moved out. It seemed one or the other of them showed up twice a week with homemade meals. I either had to learn to cook for myself, so they wouldn’t worry, or be forever indebted to them. I chose to learn to cook.”
Sara smiled around a mouthful of warm muffin. “They sound like very nice people.”
“Yeah, and I’m spoiled rotten.” He waited until she had another mouthful of eggs, then added, “You’ll get to meet them next Saturday. They’re coming to visit.”
She sputtered and choked and coughed while he patted her back. “Are you all right?”
She wheezed a deep breath. “The damn muffin went up my nose.”
Gavin bent down to look in her face. “No kidding?”
She took several more gasping breaths, a large drink of juice, then demanded, “What do you mean they’re coming to visit?”
With a deliberate shrug of indifference, he said, “Mom always calls on Saturday morning. I knew she’d be worried if she couldn’t reach me, so I phoned and gave her this number. One explanation led to another and now she wants to meet you. And whenever my mom interferes, my sisters are close on her heels.”
“But…but…I can’t meet your family!”
“Why not?”
He watched her search frantically for an answer, and finally come up with, “Because!”
“Because?”
She made an elaborate show of exasperation. “You know why, Gavin. What will they think?”
That I’ve finally met the woman I intend to marry. He didn’t tell her that, of course. If he had, she’d have put a stop to his folks visiting real fast. She was so damn skittish about marriage and family and commitment now. But his family was the better part of him, a real selling tool to a woman like Sara. She wouldn’t be able to resist any of them, and they wouldn’t be able to resist her. He was certain of that.
Hoping to distract her once more so she wouldn’t put up too much fuss, he leaned forward until his mouth was only a hairbreadth away from her lips. “You’ve got a whole week to get used to the idea.”
Her eyelids fluttered, then closed as he kissed her. It was a very light kiss, soft and void of sexual intent.
For about three seconds.
Her soft moan shot his good intentions all to hell. When her tongue touched his lips, Gavin stumbled out of his chair and pulled Sara from hers, all without breaking the kiss. With only two steps he had her backed to the counter, trapped there with his body. She was so soft and sweet from her shower, so warm, he couldn’t resist touching her.
Tangling his fingers in her dark, curly hair, he tipped her face to the side so his mouth could explore her throat. She hummed a small sound of pleasure, her hands gripping his bare shoulders, urging him closer. He felt the slight sting of her nails.
The distraction worked. In fact, he forgot why he was distracting her.
He kissed her again, wet and hot, his tongue sliding in, imitating what he wanted. What she evidently wanted, too, a truth that his carnal side relished. She wasn’t drunk this morning, and she knew what she was doing. That thought kept pounding through his brain, driving him.
She groaned and arched into him. It was too much, and he lost control. He was hard, urgent, and he pressed his erection against her soft belly, hearing her groan again and feeling her cuddle him closer. One hand moved to cup her breast, and her nipple was stiff, ready. He started shoving her T-shirt up. He wanted to taste her, to have her nipple in his mouth, sucking, licking…
“Gavin?”
“Hmm?”
Breathless, she whispered, “Are we going to do a lot of…this, when you move in?”
His brain shut down for a single heartbeat. “Aw, hell.” Reminded of his plan, he shoved himself away from her, jamming both hands into his hair. Immense frustration rode him, along with total disgust. He’d never get her to marry him if he was so easy. How did that saying go? Something about not buying the cow if the milk was free? Not that he liked comparing himself to a cow. A bull, maybe, but still…
He forced himself to take several deep breaths and face her. She looked aroused. Her lips w
ere a little puffy, her shirt half untucked, her cheeks flushed.
But it was her eyes that grabbed and held his attention. They were bright and clear and filled with hot anticipation.
“Don’t do that.” His tone was cautious, and he backed up a step. Sara slowly followed. Her gaze remained glued to his, and as he watched, wary, she licked her lips. He felt like a meal set before a starving person.
It wasn’t an altogether unpleasant feeling. “Sara…” he warned.
“I wasn’t complaining, Gavin, when I asked if—”
“I know.” He held up a hand to ward her off, both physically and verbally. If she said much more, if she touched him again, if she licked her lips just one more time, he was a goner. Thankfully she stopped. He wondered how to begin, what exactly to say. He needed her to know how much he wanted her. That was an important fact she had to understand with unwavering certainty. But he also had to make her understand he wouldn’t allow her to toy with his affections. There would be no simple fling. If she wanted the beef, she had to buy the bull. Period.
“What is it, Gavin?”
Trying to look stern, he folded his arms behind his back and paced. “You’re just coming out of a bad relationship, Sara. People tend to react on the rebound whenever they’ve been hurt, and—”
“How do you know?” Then her eyes narrowed. “You’re talking about your breakup with Karen, aren’t you? You said she had stopped being important to you long ago.”
Her tone was accusing, and he flinched at his poor choice of wording. “True. Karen didn’t mean that much to me. But it was another example of a failed relationship, and I’m getting too old to keep involving myself in dead-end situations. Do you understand?”
She nodded, the movement slow and thoughtful. “But I didn’t think you were looking for involvement anyway. And I’ve already learned all I need to know about these things. If you’re afraid I’ll get clingy, I promise I won’t. I’m not looking for happily ever after. Not anymore.”
So. That hadn’t just been the drink talking. Having her reiterate her intentions so plainly pricked his temper. He didn’t like the idea that she planned to use him for mere sex. For mere, mind-blowing, torrid, delicious sex. God, he was an idiot. A determined idiot.
