Page 36 of Butterfly

Being alone with a woman I’m attracted to has never been a problem before. I wouldn’t consider myself a playboy, but not a shy guy, either. Yet with Sienna, I’m always on edge, worried to say or do the wrong thing. Maybe because she never behaves as I expect, and she keeps everyone at a distance.

“You and Tyler seem good friends,” I say, watching her reaction.

“We’ve known each other for a while, and he’s my boss.” She shrugs.

“But he’s your friend, right?”

“It depends on what you mean by that. If you mean someone I reveal everything about me and with whom I share everything, then no.” There’s a harsh, almost evil quality in the way she delivers that.

“Do you have any friends?”

“I told you. I don’t like confrontation.”

What kind of a shitty answer is that?

She wants everyone to be friendly to her, but she doesn’t want to be friends with anyone. She didn’t call me to begin with. She kept me at a distance. Am I a jerk? Maybe. But she didn’t call me, even when I was worried about her. Any other human being would have let me know they were all right. Her way of thinking about herself and about what other people think of her gives me a headache.

But when I kissed her, she kissed me back. Does that mean she likes me? If anything, her reaction to the kiss only confused everything more.

Toughen up, Alex. There’s only one way to find out if she likes you.

As she strokes Dart’s fur, I take her hand and decide that honesty is the best policy. “I like you, Sienna.” I kiss her knuckles, and she draws in a breath, her fingers stiffening. “I feel like I’ve known you for a long time, but not enough. It’s rare to find someone with whom I don’t feel the burden of the celebrity world. I like how I feel when I’m with you. I can be myself with you.” I trail my lips on her wrist, the scarred one. “If I were dating someone else, I wouldn’t kiss you.”

“I know,” she whispers.

I inch closer, waiting a breath away from her tempting lips. Energy charges the space between us. The tip of her tongue darts out to lick her bottom lip. I close the distance between us and press my lips against hers. She’s so sweet; I can’t control my urge for long. With my tongue, I part her lips and explore her warm mouth. At each stroke of my tongue against hers, she releases a breathy moan that shoots adrenaline right into my crotch. Kissing her is like standing on the edge of a cliff. Exhilarating, but one wrong step, and I’m done. I shift closer, slipping a hand through her silky hair. Her kiss is shy and reserved at first. So when she opens for me and presses her chest against mine, I’m shivering with pleasure. The more I taste her, the more I want her. It's my first kiss all over again, only more powerful because I know what I’m doing.

I pull her bottom lip and bite at the plush softness while moving my hand lower. Soft, smooth skin flows from the curve of her shoulder to her arm and waist. My thumb brushes the underside of her breast as I graze her jaw. Little shivers go through her delicious body. I toy with the hem of her top and lift it an inch to brush her belly. She pauses, sucking in a breath before kissing me again. Hesitation lingers in her kiss, as if she’s waiting for something unpleasant to happen. When I slip my hand under her top, she breaks the kiss and stiffens. Even her abs become a hard slab.

I clench my jaw, annoyed with myself. Go slow, you dickhead. She isn’t ready yet. She doesn’t know me. Going slowly for her is something I can do. Kissing her lips, I withdraw my hand and put it on her hip, needing to touch her. “Too much?” I whisper against the skin of her neck.

“Too much.” She swallows hard. A nervous shiver ripples through her, leaving a trail of goosebumps along her skin.

“Do you want me to stop?” I ask, even though I’m already withdrawing from her.

“Yes,” she says so low that I barely catch it.

Right. If that’s not a rejection, then I don’t know what it is.

“I think I should go home.” She avoids looking at me.

Daggers to my chest and balls. Inching back from her warmth requires my entire reserve of self-control. The instinct to kiss her again drums in my chest while my erection threatens to rip my track pants. I don’t bother covering the tent forming over my crotch. She knows I want her, and her interested gaze on my male parts gives me hope.

“All right.” Although it’s not. “Did I do something w—”

“No.” She whips her head up. “You didn’t do anything wrong. It’s…”

“It’s the same thing that made you run away from me,” I finish, without completely removing the frustration from my tone.

“In a way.” She starts stroking Dart again.

“Which is?”

No words come out of her. As my anger is flaring up, she clears her throat.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Sienna.”

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