Page 8 of Found Forever

Heat filled her cheeks, and she was sure beads of sweat scattered themselves along her hairline. She certainly had them between her breasts.

Slowly, she lifted her gaze to his.

Softness met her, and she instantly relaxed.

“Take a deep breath,” he whispered.

She did.

“Good girl.”

Oooh. He was hitting all the right buttons right now.

Her pussy spasmed at his praise. That traitorous bitch. Didn’t she know he just turned them down?

“I never said a word, and you just jumped to conclusions. Why?”

“Because you took forever to answer. And that usually means you’re searching for a gentle way to let me down.”

“Or,” he postured, “I was choosing my words carefully because I don’t want to fuck this up.”

Fuck this up?

What wasthis?

She was just looking for a good time. For a wedding night shag. Nothing more.

Anything more made absolutely no sense. She lived in Toronto and Decker lived … well, his address was in Dallas, but the man was a nomad.

He took a deep breath. “I don’t really do casual. Unlike my brother, who is a walking poster boy for one-night-stands. I can’t say we’re identical in that way. I mean, yes, I’ve had them. But I prefer not to.”

Her brows knitted. What was he saying? He wanted to date? She was going to have to agree to be his girlfriend if she wanted to get laid?

Fuck that, she could find someone else if that was the case.

She made to pull out of his embrace again, but his hold on her remained firm. Secure.

She hadn’t even been paying attention, but somehow, he guided them off to the side and they were now standing almost outside the tent under the stars.

Joanna blinked at her surroundings, allowing her eyes to adjust to the dark.

Crickets and frogs competed with the music from the speakers.

She welcomed the cool air against her sweat-misted skin and goosebumps quickly broke out along her arms.

Decker was in a black, long-sleeve button up dress shirt and gray slacks that fit himverywell. Like he’d been sewn into them or something.

She swallowed and brought her gaze back up to his. He was staring at her. Had probably been staring at her the entire time.

“So what does ‘I don’t docasualmean?’”

“I don’t do casual sex. When I’m with a woman, I want it to mean something. I want there to be an emotional connection. I want there to be feelings involved. The promise of something more than just that moment or that night.”

“I never would have pegged you for a serial monogamist. Do you even have time for relationships?”

Frowning, but in a sexy and lazy way, he shook his head.

“So then, do you just not have a lot of sex?”

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