Page 39 of Too Little Too Soon
“Not small town. More like Southern high society.”
Her eyes widened. “No kidding?”
He tapped her knee. “I can usually spot someone with the same breeding from a mile away. I trained myself to, because when I first walked away from that life, I was paranoid I’d get pulled back in. So I learned how to avoid anyone associated with that crowd.”
“What are you doing with me then?” Her tone was teasing—on the surface. He heard the edge of worry, though.
Standing, he strode to the window, peered out, swept his gaze over the parking lot. They were on the third floor, and with no lights on in the room, no one down there would be able to see him.
“I need you in my life, Travis,” his stalker had whispered right before he stumbled backward and landed on his ass on the couch.
Shit, he was starting to sweat again.
Tugging the curtain closed, he reached over and flipped on the pin light next to the bed; just enough to allow them to see but not enough to change the mood.
Turning to Ava, he admitted, “You center me. I don’t know how to explain it. But I feel…comfortable when you’re around. And most of the time, I feel like an impostor in my own life.”
Her smile was brittle. “I completely understand.”
Waving at the TV, she tried to change the subject. “Are we binging something?”
He shook his head. “Can we just lay here for a while?”
She hesitated, probably thought he was going to hit on her again. Which hadn’t been his intent at all. Hell, seeing his stalker was about the most effective libido-killer ever.
Except, when Ava lay back against the pillows and he rolled onto the bed next to her, suddenly, he couldn’t think of anything else. His mind kept replaying the afternoon they’d spent together on New Year’s Eve. Over and over, every single moment. In graphic detail.
“What are you thinking about?” she whispered, like she could read his damn mind.
“My thoughts are decidedly not nice right now.” He stared at the ceiling.
After a small pause, Ava asked, “As in, they’re mean?”
He snorted softly. “Definitely not mean.”
Her breath hitched. “Then…what?”
He should cut this game off at the balls. Instead, he whispered, “My thoughts are very, very…naughty.”
Her entire body went rigid for a few seconds, and she practically breathed, “Tell me. I want to hear your thoughts.”
“No, you really don’t.”
“Don’t tell me what you think I want. Tell me what you’re thinking.”
Fuck. This woman. She really was going to be the death of him.
“Tell me, Travis.”
Fine. If that was what she wanted. Hell, maybe his admission would scare her off. That would be best for both of them.
“I want to twist my hand in your hair and use it to hold your head still so I can plunder your mouth.”
She gasped, followed quickly by a moan, and holy shit, it was such an erotic sound, his cock gave a hopeful jump.
Down, boy.
And then she whispered two words that broke him.
