Page 9 of So Wrong It Must Be Right

He watched her, just as he’d said he would. Even with her heart pounding in her ears, she put a little swing to her step. Because this was supposed to be fun. Fantasy. She was damn well going to enjoy herself.

Ignoring nerves, refusing to accept them, she sauntered her way over to his unmade bed. She sat on the rumpled black comforter, just like the email had instructed her to. But she couldn’t quite bring herself to remove any clothing.

Yet. She would. She so would.

He stepped into the room, closing the door behind him. She didn’t fidget. She wouldn’t. Instead, she looked up at him and smiled. “I hope you have condoms.”

“Yes.”

“Good.” That was good. She might be crazy, but she wasn’t stupid. She hoped.

But he stood there, feet away from her, arms crossed over his chest, frowning. It was an oddly good look for him. Broody and intense over mean or standoffish.

“Problem?” she asked, a lightness in her voice she wanted desperately to feel. Fake it till you make it.

“We’ve never even kissed.”

She blinked. That hadn’t been what she’d expected. But, what had she expected? She had no idea. But she kept the smile in place. “So kiss me, C.”

He stepped toward her, brow furrowed, wavy hair a little unruly and his beard somewhat neatly cropped. Her breath hitched a little in her chest because she was sitting on his bed and he was hovering above her, all tense and serious and yum.

Then he touched the tip of his index finger to her cheek, drew it across what she assumed was the pattern of freckles there. He’d said in his email he had a thing for freckles.

Well, lucky him.

When his head bent, mouth bridging the distance to hers, she had to fight the need to fidget. Or move. Or grab him by the neck and kiss him hard. Maybe later. Right now, she kind of liked the wild anticipation in her racing heart and unsteady breath.

His lips barely brushed hers, and that excitement doubled, tripled. The finger on her cheek became his whole hand, cupping her face, pulling her closer, his mouth pressing to hers. Sinking deeper and deeper until his tongue traced her bottom lip, and she opened her mouth to return the favor.

It wasn’t the kind of kiss she’d expected. This wasn’t quick or heated or even weird, it was lazy exploration. It wasamazing. The rasp of his beard against her chin, his rough hands traveling down her neck.

Every word that had been amazing and beautiful still managed to pale in comparison to the reality of his mouth on hers.

He pulled back, his expression unreadable. Of course, the erection making itself a very obvious bump under his jeans was readable.Veryreadable. He might be uncertain, but he wasn’t unaffected.

“Take off your coat.”

She swallowed, but got that thing off as fast as she possibly could. If the kiss wasthatgood. Just one kiss. Oh man, the rest might melt her from the inside out.

“You really did have a shit day, huh?” he asked, forehead still not smoothing out.

“The shittiest.”

“And this is your answer?”

“An orgasm I don’t have to give myself is a hell of an answer.”

He leaned closer, his mouth brushing against her ear. “Then I’ll make sure you get two, D.”

It helped to use the poorly coded nicknames. She didn’t think about the man who’d threatened to call the cops on her. She thought about the man who might make her beg for things she’d never had the courage to beg for before.

“The rest,” he instructed.

She unbuttoned her blouse, determined to be sexy and sure. She was a smart, mature twenty-something who was going to enjoy some casual, consensual sex. If it was a little out of character, good. She’d gotten a whole lot of nothing for staying in character.

So, she shimmied out of her skirt and gave him her best come-hither look. “Your turn.”

Slowly, he pulled the T-shirt up and over his head, then undid his belt, the button to his jeans, the zipper.

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