Page 9 of Too Little Too Soon
No one had ever called her sugar before. He, on the other hand, probably called every woman he ever dated sugar. She decided not to care. It didn’t matter anyway. This was a one-night thing. Really, just a few hours this afternoon.
She took him home.
After shoving the key into the lock and rattling it like she did every single day, the door wouldn’t budge. It happened a second time. Was this a sign that she should send him back to his hotel and call it a nice try?
He gently extracted the key from her hand and worked the lock, and a moment later the door popped open. “You’re nervous,” he murmured in that rusty Texas drawl.
“I’ve never done this before,” she admitted, stepping inside and sweeping her critical gaze around the interior. It was clean—other than the ruined shoes and the box filled with her former life resting on the tiles just inside the door—but it was sparsely furnished and even less decorated. It had no personality. God, was her apartment a reflection of her, after all, and she’d only just noticed?
“Had sex?” he asked, a teasing lilt to his voice.
“With a perfect stranger,” she replied, shedding her coat and sunglasses and kicking off her boots.
He pushed the door closed and flipped the lock before hanging his fisherman’s cap on the handle. He dragged his fingers through his longish locks, setting it into delicious disarray.
She licked her lips.
Cupping her cheeks, he said, “I don’t think we are perfect strangers. I haven’t talked to someone like I’ve been talking to you in years. There are probably less than twenty people who know more about me than you do right now.”
She felt her eyes widen.
“Ava, if you’ve changed your mind, it’s cool. I’ll take off.”
“No.” She grabbed a fistful of his shirt. “Don’t go.”
He smiled. God, the man was sexy.
“Keep talking,” she said. “Your voice is definitely turning me on.” She couldn’t believe she was being so bold even as she reveled in being so bold.
He chuckled. “True confession: when I was in high school, I deliberately worked to make my Texas twang more prominent because it got me into way more girls’ pants than I probably would have otherwise.”
She laughed. Walking backward, she pulled him along with her. “You have only a few hours, right?”
“Oh, I can make a lot happen in a few hours.”
“I’m counting on it.”
His grin spread from cheek to cheek before he reached for her, grasped her backside. Suddenly, she was in his arms, her legs wrapped around his waist.
He wasn’t even breathing hard as he carried her down the short hall to her bedroom. They came to an abrupt stop when his feet became tangled in something. Glancing down, she noted her rumpled power suit.
“Kick it out of the way. It’s just the remnants of my former life.”
He arched his brows but didn’t ask. Instead, he turned toward the bed. She half expected him to toss her unceremoniously onto the soft surface, but he surprised her by laying her down gently. First, he flipped off his cable-knit sweater, then unlatched the buttons on his shirt, one at a time, slowly. Her gaze tracked each step of the process.
“When you unbuttoned your coat in that restaurant, that was the point I decided I wanted to sleep with you,” he rasped.
She glanced up at his face. “Really?”
He nodded. “Sexy as fuck.” Rolling the shirt over his shoulders, he let it drop to the floor and climbed onto the bed.
“No, wait,” she said as he started to lower himself on top of her.
She pushed him to the side. He rolled onto his back, furrowing his brows. “What’s wrong?”
She crawled on top of him, straddling him. “Nothing.” She traced his tattoos with her finger. “So beautiful,” she murmured, soaking in the detail, the colors, the artwork drawn onto his chest, his arms.
His body relaxed under her while she continued her ministrations. Well, it didn’t entirely relax. A certain part of his body was swelling and getting stiffer and stiffer, right between her legs. She shifted her hips. He groaned, his gaze latched onto her face.
