Page 77 of The Last Good Man

“You didn’t want me in the room with you. You thought I’d force myself onto you?”

I slowly shake my head.

“No.”

“Why are you so scared then?”

Cocking his head to the side, he narrows his eyes at me, awaiting my answer while taking a drag off his cigarette and blowing the smoke out. “Tell me,” he insists in the smoothest, most sensual voice I’ve ever heard.

What can I say?

That thebankers I meet don’t generally make me melt inside, and he does?

“You caught me at a bad time,” I say, downplaying my physical reaction to him.

“Uh-huh…”

He taps his cigarette outside the window.

“And?” he murmurs.

And, um…

What else am I supposed to say?

That Ihad my share of failures and wanted to do it right for a change.

That Ihad a plan, found Thomas, and thought I could check things off my list with him.

Date him, sleep with him, and talk about creating a future with him. Maybe not in this order.

That there weren’t men like Jax London on my list.

No onesounpredictable, stubborn, and hard to deter.

No onesointeresting and driven for no logical reason.

Am I really as interesting as he has claimed?

Or am I someone he wants to prove himself he can have?

“Why is the timing of this so important?” he asks, and I have no answerfor that either.

Instead I grow nervous and dip my gazetohis cigarette.Normally, Iwould justtouch the pack of cigarettes in my clutch, something Aretha repeatedly suggested might help, but my bag is too farfor meto reach.

He notices the direction of my gaze and tightens his grip on my hair, almost forcing me to tip my head back and part my lips.

He has a way, I must say, so I open my lips before he brings his cigarette to my mouth.

“Take it, baby…” he says quietly, his eyes on my lips as if hetalksabout something elsewhileI inhale his haunting masculine smell and the aroma of tobacco and touch the part of the cigarette he has touched with his lips.

His eyes burn like embers when I take a drag and exhale slowly.

His gaze moves down the length of my neck and over my chest while I feel like there isn’t enough crisp air in the room to obliterate the warmth of my body.

I talk again to forget about that.

“Your reasons aside––”

---