Page 29 of Back in the Texan's Bed
“A part of you will always blame me for missing the first couple of years with Ben. But that’s not even what you’re lying about.”
“Really? Enlighten me then, Charlotte.”
“You still haven’t forgiven me for leaving in the first place,” she said brazenly. “Before you knew about Ben, you seethed with that anger, Ross. And it didn’t just disappear.”
Deliberately, Ross set the glass down on the end table. He stretched an arm out along the back of the couch, and the other settled on his thick thigh, long fingers splayed wide. But he didn’t look at her, his attention seemingly transfixed on the fireplace’s dancing orange-and-red flames.
“You think you know me? That’s presumptuous of you, isn’t it?” he murmured, no rancor in his low voice, but she caught the edge. Sharp enough to leave stinging cuts.
“I knew you better than most,” she said, and at her words his head turned toward her, and the icy shock of his wintry blue gaze slicked over her skin like sleet.
“We fucked, Charlotte,” he stated bluntly.
Though he spoke the truth, it still drove a fist into her stomach, leaving her winded and hurting. Because he said what she’d always known but had mourned. For him, it had been just sex with the family chef. For her, it had been so much more. And that was her fault, not his. But wisdom didn’t mean shit when the heart became involved. Lucky for her, she’d stopped being that foolish, naive girl three years earlier.
“And yet, you still resent me. Come on, Ross, get it off your chest now that you have the chance. Want to tell me why?” She taunted him, and fire leaped in his eyes as if she’d poked those flames.
Did she want to be burned?
Yes.
The word vaulted, unbidden, to her mind. And she wanted to deny that need, but her actions belied it.
“What are you doing?” His hooded scrutiny dipped to her mouth, then lower. Over her suddenly sensitive breasts, down to her thighs...to the aching space between them. When his gaze met hers again, the heat from it licked at her skin.
God, she wanted to lean into it. Bask in its warmth. Let it consume her.
Even though every self-preserving instinct screamed at her to protect herself.
“I don’t know what you mean,” she said, the rasp of the tone making a mockery of the statement.
His sensual lips curved at one corner, lending it a carnal, almost cruel cast. “Don’t you? Do you want a fight, baby? Is that it?” he murmured. “Or do you just want to use it as an excuse to get your mouth on me?” He cocked his head, and his teeth briefly sank into his bottom lip as if he were nipping her mouth instead of his own. “You don’t need that charade, Charlotte. If you want to taste me without having to feel guilty afterward, it can be our little secret.”
Little secret. The words clanged in her head, a warning bell.
That’s all you are to him. All you’ve ever been.
Truth. Sheknew this. Yet...lust pumped through her like an engine with greased, faulty brakes—fast, screaming, out of control.
Maybe he was right; she did want his anger to take the decision out of her hands so she could give in. So she could blame emotion instead of accepting that she wanted his mouth again. Craved his tongue licking at her, sucking on her.
A kiss. That was all she’d allow herself. Another kiss. Then she could sate this need that had been teasing and taunting her since yesterday. For three years, she’d been sacrificing—for her career, for her son.
Tonight, she could take for herself. Just once.
One little taste. Who could it hurt?
You.
Bullshit. Because she wouldn’t let it.
“That’s nothing new for us, is it?” she whispered. Rising from the couch, she slowly moved across the short distance separating them. “Secrets. We’re made of them. So what’s one more, right?” She pressed a knee into the cushion along his outer thigh. “Except this time, you’re mine. I’m not yours.”
“Charlotte.” A faint frown marred his brow as she lifted her other leg, straddling him, caging him between her thighs. His hands shot up to cradle her hips. “What’re you—”
“Taking.”
Without breaking his gaze, she lifted her glass, sipped. Then, turning it around so his lips would close over the same spot, offered it to him. He accepted the drink, and the intimacy of the gesture had her sex clenching, an empty ache pulsing deep inside her.
