Page 51 of That One Heartbreak

And then she touched himthere.

It was like a thousand fireworks exploding in his brain. Her palm cupped his hardness through his jeans, then her fingers wrapped around him through the denim, moving up and down.

He was a breath away from coming in his pants like a sixteen-year-old kid.

He kissed her lips, her jaw, her neck. “Kate.”

“Huh?” Her gaze was hazy.

“I need you to stop touching me,” he told her, his voice rough with need.

For a second he could see the hurt in her eyes. “Because I’m about ten seconds away from coming,” he added truthfully.

“Oh.” Her voice was soft, but she moved her hand.

And for a moment he wished he hadn’t said anything. Regret mingled with relief.

“I’m sorry,” he told her. “It’s been a while.”

This time she smiled. It was a little wobbly but it was there. And he realized she was on a cliff’s edge of emotions. He wanted to wrap his arms around her and keep her away from the danger. “That’s kind of sexy,” she whispered.

He went to sit up and she did, too, moving so she was sitting on his lap.

It was so exquisitely painful having her there it was messing with his brain.

He reached out to stroke her hair. Kate let out a long breath. “Well…”

The corner of his lip quirked. “Well, I guess I didn’t see that coming.”

“Literally.”

He grinned. Damn, he liked this woman. “Let me take you out on a date,” he said, brushing her neck with his lips.

“I just got back from one.”

“With the wrong guy,” he pointed out.

“And whose fault was that? You’re the one who offered to babysit.” She tipped her head to the side, giving him more access to her neck. He trailed his mouth along it. “Why did you?” she asked.

“Why did I what?” he murmured against her skin.

She let out a contented sigh. “Why did you let me go on a date with another man? If you wanted me?”

He kissed her lips again. Damn she tasted sweet. “Because I needed to know you’re ready.”

“What if I’d clicked with him?” she asked.

“Then I would’ve said my piece. Let you choose between us.” He’d been thinking about it ever since his conversation with Pres. He’d needed to know for sure that she was ready. That itwasn’t just him. She’d had so much shit in her life over the past few years. He wasn’t about to press her if she wasn’t ready.

She cupped his jaw with her hands, her gaze intent as she leaned in to kiss him again. “You said it was a race. I’m not a prize.”

“Yes you are.”

She shook her head, looking earnest. “I’m not. You said you needed to know that I’m ready. I don’t know if I’m ready. I have three kids, a job, a house that always has something falling apart in it. I still cry myself to sleep sometimes. I’m not exactly the kind of woman men fight wars for.” She took a deep breath. “And kissing you was hot as hell. But I’m not a prize there either. I haven’t had sex for years. And if I’m being truly honest, I’m absolutely petrified about that.”

There was a vulnerability to her voice that made him want to protect her from the world. “I’m talking about a date,” he told her, kissing her again. Mostly because he couldn’t bear not to. “That’s it. You and me. Some food. A little wine. See where things go.”

Her eyes caught his. And yeah, he knew where he wanted things to go. But he also knew she was new to this. He didn’t want to make a mistake. To scare her away.

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