Page 24 of Ruthless Creatures
“It doesn’t matter. What matters is that you believe you’re safe with me.”
My laugh is faint. “Safe with you? God, no. I think I’m in more danger around you than I have been with any other man before in my life.”
Something about that pleases him. His lips curve, but he shakes his head. “You know what I mean.”
“Check back with me later. My brain isn’t working right at the moment.”
His tone gently chiding, he says, “I want a yes or a no.”
“Throwing my words back at me won’t help your cause.”
“Decide soon. We don’t have much time.”
“Why is that?”
“I won’t be in town long.”
That shuts me up for a good thirty seconds. I become aware that we’ve both leaned closer toward each other over the table and are locked in a tense little bubble to the exclusion of everyone and everything else, but I feel oddly powerless to resist.
Now I understand how moths feel around open flames.
“Why did you buy a house here if you’re not going to stay?”
“I already told you that.”
He reaches across the table. Slowly and gently, he skims his thumb over my cheekbone and down to my jaw, his heated gaze following the path of his finger.
Goose bumps break out all over my arms. My nipples tingle. I lick my lips, fighting dueling urges to lunge across the table and kiss him or run away screaming.
This is insane. You’re too sensible for this. Get up from the table and walk away.
I manage to ignore the voice of reason in my head. “How long will you be here?”
“A few days. I need to kiss you.”
“No.” It’s faint and not altogether convincing.
“Then come sit on my lap and let me finger fuck you while I feed you dinner.”
To manage the explosion of shock and lust that astonishing sentence caused in my body, I sit back abruptly in my chair and look away, choking out a disbelieving laugh.
“It must be all the champagne I’ve had. There’s no possible way you just said that.”
“I said it. And you liked it.” After a pause, he demands, “Look at me.”
“I can’t. This is crazy. I’ve known you for twenty-four hours. No one has ever spoken to me like that before in my life, not even my fiancé.”
He waits in silence for me to regroup, but I doubt if that’s possible. I think this conversation is going to leave me permanently scarred.
When I finally gather enough courage to glance at him, a tremor runs through my body at what I see in his eyes.
I clear my throat. “Also, that sounds like you’d need very good coordination to pull off. And maybe an extra set of hands.”
For the first time, he smiles at me.
It comes on slow and sensual, a gradual upward curve of his mouth that ends with a show of straight white teeth. It’s a beautiful smile, and also a frightening one.
Frightening because of how much I like it.
