Page 30 of Crave Me

“Evan,” she says, watching me as I towel off. “About last night.”

I don’t like the shift in her tone, or how she gathers a robe around herself, appearing to shield her body from mine. She was so open, exposing herself freely until now.

“Yes?” I ask when she fails to speak.

“It’s not something I do.” She reaches for a comb and works it through her thick wet hair, growing abruptly silent.

The tension drifting between us isn’t something I’m used to around her. I finish toweling off, waiting for her to speak.

She pauses with the comb in her hand, her thumb passing along the teeth. “I don’t have one night stands. Ever,” she says meeting my face. “And I sure as hell don’t sleep with men I barely know.” She sighs. “But you . . . you made it too easy.”

I’ve seen enough horrific movies with dominant male leads who’d brush aside a comment like this, or perhaps use it to their advantage. But I’m not one of those men. I let the towel fall at my feet and step forward, my hands finding her hips and pulling her to me. “You made it easy for me, too,” I admit.

“Because of the blow job?” she teases.

“No,” I respond. “Because of you.”

My comment draws her smile. “See, here you go again, making things easy.”

“Good,” I reply. “That’s how I want things between us.”

The kiss I give her is brief, allowing her the space I think she needs. I’m exhausted and sexually spent. Yet if she wanted, I’d carry her back to bed.

I imagine she guesses as much when she closes her eyes briefly and sighs. Rather than questioning my intent, she reaches for a bottle of lotion, warming it in her hands before passing it along my shoulders. “Do you do that a lot?” she asks.

“Sleep with a woman I just met?” I shake my head slowly when she nods. “My position in my company keeps me busy. The few women I’ve met work directly for me, and I assure you, none have sparked my interest.”

“None?” she asks.

“Not like you have,” I confess. I stroke her face. “It’s been a long time since I enjoyed the company of a woman.”

She tries to hide her smile as her slick hands massage the length of my arm, but I catch it nonetheless. “How long is long?”

I consider her question. “About ten months.”

She stops as she reaches my hand glances up. “You haven’t had sex in ten months?”

“Why do you find it so hard to believe?” I ask.

She reaches for the bottle of lotion. “Because you’re cute,” she says.

“Cute?”

“And smart, successful, and sexier than hell. I’m surprised you don’t open up your office every morning to find a naked woman sprawled across your desk, wearing a smile and nothing else.”

“I assure you that’s never happened,” I say chuckling. “The success of my company means everything to me. With the hours I keep and the work I do, it’s a rarity to meet women like you.”

“Loud women like me?” she offers.

“I mean mesmerizing,” I tell her, because it’s true. “And unique and kind.”

She groans. “There you go again,” she says. “Making it too easy to like you.”

“I like you, too,” I remind her.

I don’t want that strain between us to return, but I want to know where I stand. “What about you? How long has it been since you spent the night with a man?”

She places the empty bottle aside and reaches for another one beneath the sink. It’s a casual response, but I can’t help thinking it’s an excuse to turn away from me. “Over a year.”

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