Page 39 of Loving You

“No,” he grunted.

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t want you to leave.” His stare burned into me, making me shudder.

“I don’t want to leave either.”

“Good. Then sit down andtalkto me.”

A feline smile crept over my lips—a defense mechanism, to be sure, but I reveled in the shudder it caused in him. “What if I don’t want to talk?”

His eyes flared like he wanted to tell me I didn’t have a choice, except I knew I did. This man wouldn’t make me doanythingI didn’t want to do, but unfortunately for him, there was a damn long list of surprising things I wasthis closeto demanding of him.

“What if there’s something else I want?” I pushed on, the flirty, seductive tone easy and familiar. I’d used it many times as part of my fake-April persona, only this time… there was nothing fake about it.

He swallowed hard, then shook his head.

“No?”

Another shake.

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t think I can give you what you want.” There was a hint of desperation in his voice, and when I only continued to hold his gaze, he closed what little distance was left between us so I could feel the hard length of him pressing against my belly. “I don’t thinkyou’dwant what I want.”

His eyes blazed and his voice was ragged.

He was trying to scare me off. He was trying towarnme that when he let loose of that control and acted on what he wanted, I wouldn’t like it.

Well, we were in for the surprise of our lives then, because I had a feeling we’d both like it a hell of a lot more than either of us had ever imagined we would.

“Show me,” I whispered, angling forward to rub against him.

“April—”

I watched in fascination as he slowly lost his battle with his willpower. I felt that tight hold straining against what we both wanted. And yet, even as I tortured him with slow movements against his hardness, his hands remained clenched at his sides.

“I won’t touch you until you tell me what happened to you. I don’t know what happened, and I can’t… Iwon’tlay a finger on you until you tell me what I’m up against.”

It hit me then.

He thought whatever I wasn’t telling him was linked to sex. And if that were the case—which it wasn’t, because as much as Cliff had hurt me, he’d never forced me—then Eric was worried that him being a little bossy in a way I was sure wouldn’t be anything other than sexy and fun would betraumaticfor me.

But no.

There was no comparison between this need for me to have this hot, high-handed man tell me what to do in bed and what happened to me in the past.

And if he needed that reassurance so we could do this damn thing, I supposed I could tell him enough for that. “It’s not what you’re thinking. You’re right that I’m scared, and I have my reasons, and I promise we can talk more about it later, but what you’re thinking…” I couldn’t even say it, and I closed my eyes and took a breath before going on. “It wasn’t like that. You don’t need to worry aboutthat.”

His throat worked and his jaw tightened. Relief was there, and it was palpable. But he continued to stand there without giving me what I couldn’t believe I needed from him.

I needed it as much as I needed air in my lungs, and for fuck’s sake, I’d do whatever I could to show him that.

“Eric,” I said, reaching up to grip the sides of his face, “you won’t hurt me. I trust you. Now, shut up andshow me.”

12

ERIC

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