For a moment he thought she wasn’t going to answer, but then she said, “I was content.”
He wanted to punch her ex in the throat for the sad look that crossed her face. He’d bet all his money the ex in question was the Robert whose mere name made Caitlyn deflate earlier at the bar.
He hated emotional moments, so for lack of anything better to say, he mumbled, “I’m sorry.”
She glanced over quickly and then looked away. “It’s okay. It was hard at first, but then I realized that he was probably doing me a favor. I mistook comfort for love.”
“I did the exact opposite. I mistook passion for love.” Did he really just say that out loud? She had some sort of Barbara Walters effect on him, apparently, because he was talking to her like she was his bloody psychiatrist.
She was looking up at him with an impish grin that made it nearly impossible to keep his hands to himself. “That sounds way more fun.”
He let out a surprised laugh at that. “Maybe at first, but passion in the bedroom quickly turned into passionate fighting. We’re talking plates thrown against the wall, waterworks in very public places, the works.”
Her eyes widened. “That sounds awful.”
“The worst part was, it was addictive. I got used to the drama and so did she. After a while, it felt like, if we got too comfortable, she got antsy. She couldn’t just enjoy being together.” Probably because they’d had nothing to talk about when they weren’t fighting. God, that was depressing.
Caitlyn’s quiet voice cut into his thoughts. “Did she end it?”
He took a deep breath. The memory of her betrayal still stung, but he forced a casual tone. “I guess technically I’m the one that ended it. Although sleeping with my friend from work had a good deal to do with it.”
Caitlyn’s gasp of outrage was sweet. No, not sweet, he corrected himself. It was heartening.
They’d reached the front door to her apartment building, and she turned to look up at him with such concern, it made his heart ache. When was the last time anyone had looked at him like that?
“I’m sorry she hurt you,” she said. The words so simple and so natural coming out of that beautiful mouth. He thought she would turn to open the door, but her brows furrowed together and her eyes locked with his. “Are you okay?”
And there it was, the question that no one bothered to ask him—not even his friends and family. He deflected their concern with quips and sarcastic remarks and they rolled their eyes and dropped the subject. But here, now, this little beauty had asked the question that had the power to cripple him. Are you okay?
No. Not really.
Her hand slipped right through his chainmail armor and rested on his arm, and he lost all rational thought. The kind concern in her eyes was a drug, and he had the sudden and intense desire to spill his guts to her—to confess every sin and have her kiss away every pain. She was reaching behind her to open the door, but she still held his gaze, and those gorgeous, pouty lips were undeniable.
He leaned in slowly, giving her a chance to back away, but she continued to stare at him as though hypnotized. And then his lips covered hers and he was lost to the feel of those soft lips parting beneath his own with just the tiniest nudge on his part. Her sweet warm breath mingled with his as he deepened the kiss. The little moan she let out was more than he could bear. Any sense of decorum fled the building, and he pulled her against him with one arm while opening the door with his free hand.
They stumbled in through the doorway and he pressed her up against the closed door, kissing her jaw and nipping at her ear as he fumbled to remove her scarf and jacket. He wanted to kiss more of her, see more of her. Oh God, he wanted to feel all of her.
They were both panting for air when her hands cupped his face and drew his lips back to her own.
Chapter 5
Caitlyn lost any hope for coherent thought. She dragged his lips back to meet hers like she was drowning and needed his air to breathe. She was drowning. She couldn’t get enough of his lips, his tongue, those hands, which were trying to touch her through the thick layers of winter bundling. She wanted to help him shed the clothes but couldn’t do anything but kiss him. It was incredible. His lips were strong, almost possessive, as he pressed against her and his tongue teased hers, drawing her out, making her ache.
He pulled back briefly and she bit back a moan of disappointment.
“Want to fuck?”
The words were like ice water in her face. “What?”
His fingers were tugging at the zipper of her jacket, trying to free her from the thick layers of winter.
“Want to fuck?” he repeated, his breath hot and heavy.
He leaned back in to resume kissing, but she jerked away. When he tried again, she pushed him back and watched his eyes widen in surprise.
“What’s wrong?”
Want to fuck?! Speechless, Caitlyn gaped at him before pushing him out of her way and heading toward her bedroom.
“Caitlyn, wait,” he started. But she was halfway to her room and in the middle of a battle between desire and fury. Fury won out as she cut off his next protest with a gesture she had seen a million times but never actually done.
She flipped him the bird.
There was a brief moment of stunned silence, and Caitlyn experienced a surge of furious triumph. But then his loud guffaw of laughter followed her into her bedroom. She could still hear him laughing as she slammed the door behind her.
The nerve of that guy. She fumed over those words as she got ready for bed. Want to fuck? Like she was the kind of girl who just slept with whatever random guy was camping out in her spare bedroom.
Why not? You’re a grown woman, you can sleep with whomever you like.
She scowled at her reflection in the mirror. Sure she’d thought he was hot from day one, but she’d never contemplated sleeping with the guy. Or fucking him, as he so charmingly put it.
Her traitorous brain flashed on a memory from the night before when his thigh had brushed up against hers. Despite the flannel of her pajamas and the completely unsexy reality TV show they were watching, she’d gotten so turned on she’d been thoroughly uncomfortable for the rest of the night.
But physical attraction aside, she hadn’t seriously considered sleeping with him. And she couldn’t really be considering his offer now. She was not that kind of girl. She’d only ever slept with two men, both of whom she was in a committed relationship with.
And look where that’s gotten you—single, lonely, and painfully horny.
Not to mention heartbroken. Besides, what if she didn’t want a relationship with the man, but that man happened to make her so turned on she could barely breathe? Because she most certainly did not want a relationship with Ben, even if he was interested. Which he clearly wasn’t. But if he was…
He was still a rude, annoying bastard, Caitlyn concluded. Ex baggage aside, he was the living definition of the kind of macho alpha males she despised. He drank too much and cursed too much and always thought he knew what was best for everything and everyone around him.
They would be miserable together and probably end up killing each other if they ever went on a second date. She unclasped her necklace and took out her earrings, getting ready to go to bed. Alone. After inhaling deeply, she blew out the air forcefully, hoping to dispel some of the sexual tension that had her on edge.
It was decided. He was Mr. Wrong. No amount of perfect kisses would sway her opinion on the man.
But those kisses had been perfect. Just thinking about it made her heart race and the aching throb between her thighs deepen.
But if it was just sex… She could practically hear Alice’s voice in her ear, the devil on her shoulder. You need to get laid. Maybe Alice had been right. Crap, maybe Ben had been right when he’d said the very same thing. She would be the first to admit that she’d been in something of a rut ever since Robert walked out on her.
And Ben wanted to sleep with
her. It wasn’t like hot guys were falling over themselves to proposition her. Would it really be so bad to have some fun before she gave up on dating and locked herself up in a nunnery?
Clearly there would be no strings attached, no big talks about where they were headed, no…emotions. Maybe it wasn’t such a ludicrous idea after all.
It was those thoughts that kept her up half the night, tossing and turning as she battled with frustration and temptation. But while that line of reasoning was all fine and good in the dark quiet of her bedroom, in the cold light of day, Caitlyn was horrified anew.
How could she have even contemplated sleeping with her roommate? Temporary roommate but still, a roommate. Talk about asking for disaster. If one of her friends came to her asking for her advice on this same situation, she would tell them to run in the opposite direction and don’t look back. It was bad enough that they’d already gone on a date from hell, but add sex into the equation and this little truce they had going would be over. She was still healing from a horrible break up and so was he…. The last thing either of them needed was another complication.
Besides, she had kind of gotten used to having him as a roommate—although his slobby tendencies hadn’t gotten any better. But he was easy to be around other than that. Why mess with a good thing?
Still… That next morning, Caitlyn warily left her bedroom. Not that she thought Ben was going to pounce on her or anything but she had no idea how she was supposed to act. She’d never once made out with a roommate before, temporary or otherwise. She’d also never had one ask her if she wanted to fuck.
Maybe her life was pretty boring after all.
She had no idea how she was supposed to act, or what she was supposed to say. Alice would know what to do. Of course, Alice would have slept with the hottie roommate his first night in the apartment and not given it a second thought.
Why couldn’t she be more like that? Embrace excitement and say to hell with the consequences. Because she was a dowdy old stick-in-the-mud, apparently.
She managed to make it through her morning routine without running into him. As she quietly slipped out the front door, she closed it behind her with a sigh. That wasn’t so bad.
That was how she would deal with this. She wouldn’t deal at all. There were only a few weeks left until he was out of her life for good. Until then, she’d avoid him—and avoid temptation.
* * * *
She was avoiding him and it drove Ben nuts. They hadn’t been roommates for long but long enough to know that Caitlyn was a creature of habit—particularly when it came to eating and knitting, the two functions that were apparently critical for her survival.
First, she’d skipped her typical breakfast that morning—he’d heard her scramble to leave the apartment before he had a chance to leave his bedroom. Then she failed to come home for dinner between work and teaching, which she always did—she’d told him so herself. And then, when she finally came home, she’d scurried past the living room where he was camped out next to her giant basket of knitting supplies. She’d mumbled something about being exhausted after a long day. Yeah, right.
Had he offended her that badly? Or was she so turned off by his advances that she couldn’t face him? He could still hear the sexy little noises she made while he was kissing her and feel her fingers holding him tight. No, she had definitely not been immune to the chemistry.
He shifted on the couch as his erection strained against his jeans. God, he really needed to stop thinking about that kiss or he would never be able to be seen in public.
It had been two days since he’d had more than just a glimpse of his sweet, curvy roomie, and he hated to admit how on edge he was. He’d offended her, that much was clear. But that had never been his intention. The fact that he could unknowingly hurt a woman like Caitlyn is exactly why he never dated women like her. He’d spent his childhood watching his asshole of a father wear down his kindhearted mother. Aside from the fact that he had a work ethic and didn’t gamble all of his money away, he’d turned out just like the old man. But he’d be damned if he ruined everything and everyone good around him like his dad had done. And Caitlyn was good…too good. She was too sensitive, too emotional, too…good for him. He knew it, and she knew it. But good Lord what he wouldn’t give for one night to finish what they’d started.
There was no doubt in his mind that a night with Caitlyn would be unforgettable. The way her pale skin would look as he peeled off her clothing, her brown wavy hair fanned out on his pillow, those wide eyes glazed over with desire as he brought her to climax—
He shifted in his seat again. Focus, for the love of God. She clearly wasn’t interested in a cheap, casual affair—or anything more, as far as he could tell. But he hated to think that he had hurt her feelings…or worse, made her feel uncomfortable in her own home. Which meant they had to talk. He needed to clear the air.
His ex would laugh hysterically if she knew that he actually wanted to talk. How many times had he made lame excuses to avoid talking about their feelings, and now here he was plotting a touchy-feely intervention.
His new roommate would be the end of him.
When she returned home from the store that night, he was ready.
She was about to breeze right past him in the living room, but then she did a double take and came to a stop.
“What is that?”
“What does it look like?”
Her lips pulled to the side in a cute display of annoyance that he was becoming all too familiar with. What was it about Caitlyn that made teasing her so damn fun?
“It looks like a space heater,” she said.
“Bingo, give the girl a prize.”
She was outright scowling now. “Space heaters aren’t allowed in this apartment.”
“Why not?”
“Safety reasons, I guess. I don’t know, I just know it’s not allowed.”
“I don’t think landlords are allowed to freeze their tenants to death, so I’d say we’re even. Besides, who’s going to tell?”
She gnawed on her lip, clearly at a loss for an answer. He was right and she knew it. But she still wasn’t taking the bait.
He leaned in even closer to the offensive object in question and made a show of warming his hands.
She wrapped her arms around herself and gazed at the heater with longing. “I was just going to, uh, read in my bedroom.”
“Suit yourself, but if you find yourself getting too cold in there, you’re welcome to share my heat.”
There were so many dirty jokes that were dying to come out of his mouth, but he resisted the urge. He needed to be on his best behavior if he was going to put Caitlyn at ease. Her comfort mattered to him, though he couldn’t exactly explain why he cared quite so much. But there it was. He didn’t want to be the person who hurt her. And if he ever found out that someone else had hurt her… Well, he was fairly certain that person wouldn’t stand a chance in a fight.
She held out for a millisecond longer, shifting from foot to foot as she eyed the heater with obvious longing. Finally caving, she came to sit beside him on the couch.
She leaned in next to him to get closer to the space heater, and he could smell the soft lavender of her shampoo and… Was that whisky?
“Oh, that feels so good,” she breathed.
He had the sudden and intense desire to pull her into his arms and pick up where they’d left off the other night. Sitting back against the cushions, he tried to get a little distance.
“So about the other night,” he started.
He could see her shoulders stiffen and her lips tighten into a thin line.
“I just wanted to apologize.”
Her shoulders eased a tiny bit.
“I shouldn’t have kissed you like that. I’d had too much to drink and didn’t mean for that to happen. I’m sorry, it won’t happen again.”
She turned to look at him then and she looked…hurt? No, that couldn’t be right. “You�
��re sorry for kissing me?”
The pained look in her eyes was a punch in the gut. Ah shit, he’d said the wrong thing. “Look, I swear I won’t kiss you again if that’s—”
“I wasn’t mad because you kissed me,” she interrupted.
Well, okay then. Thoroughly confused, he tried to make sense of her answer. Did that mean she’d liked the kiss? At that hopeful thought, he found himself staring at her lips and fighting the urge to lean in to taste her. Did that mean he could do it again?
“I was angry because of what you said,” she finished.
He blinked at her like an idiot. What he’d said? What had he said?
“You asked me if I wanted to…fuck.” Her cheeks turned a neon shade of pink at the word, and it took everything in him not to laugh at her discomfort. Her eyes narrowed on him and it was clear she was not amused by his amusement.
He threw his hands up in surrender. “Look, I’m sorry, I really am. I didn’t mean to offend you. I just got carried away in the moment, and I thought you wanted the same thing.”
“I did.” Her cheeks turned flaming red in a heartbeat.
They were both shocked into a momentary silence at that.
If Ben had been uncomfortable with desire before at the sight of her lips, hearing her confess that she’d wanted him just about put him over the edge. His fingers dug into the arm of the couch to keep from touching her.
“You did,” he repeated. What the hell? “So what’s the problem?”
“It wasn’t the fact that you asked, it was the way you asked.” Frustration laced her voice.
Ah, so that was it. His big, crude mouth had gotten him into trouble yet again.
She gave a little huff of annoyance that she had to spell it out. “No woman wants to be asked like that.”
“So what should I have said?” He couldn’t help it, winding her up was just too much fun.
She shifted uncomfortably on the couch. “I don’t know, but you shouldn’t have used the F-word.”
“So what do you want me to call sex?”
She flinched a bit at the word. “I don’t know…making love?”
Her Leading Man Page 6
