Page 19 of His Favorite Mistake

Hell,Iliked them. They gave me a boost. Though I didn’t have self-image issues most of the time, other than the relentless need to watch my weight unless I wanted to read scathing critiques in the trades, I didn’t get a ton of opportunities to feel sexy. My look was more homespun than that.

These boots definitely werenothomespun in any shape or form.

The first doorway was a small bathroom with the standard tub/shower setup and a single sink. A total bachelor’s bathroom. Smiling, I moved to the next doorway and discovered what must be a guest bedroom. In the moonlight pouring through the window, I glimpsed a neatly made bed along with a nightstand and dresser. Nothing unusual there.

The final doorway led me to the jackpot. Soft, almost unintelligible music played from unseen speakers. The room was dark, and the man in bed with a laptop in his lap typed by the light from the screen. His fingers kept up an endless rhythm over the keys and I lurked in the doorway, fascinated. He’d slipped on a pair of reading glasses and his brown spiky hair looked even more so from my hands. My belly tightened and my nipples grew taut, reminding me I was still nude under my blanket.

And apparently still really horny.

“You planning on coming in or just going to stand there and watch me all night?”

His low voice startled me enough to make me waver where I stood. He chuckled as I sucked in a breath and gripped the doorframe, evidently enjoying my surprise. “I didn’t realize you knew I was here.”

“Former cop,” he said lightly, sparing me a brief glance that still managed to pin me in place with its intensity. “Plus hooker boots.”

Biting my lip, I glanced down at them thoughtfully. “They are kind of like the ones Julia wore inPretty Woman, aren’t they?”

“Mmm-hmm.” His noncommittal answer made me need to press for more. I already craved his praise like a junkie with a fix.

Which probably wasn’t good.

“Do you like them?”

“Did I or did I not nail you in my front hall?”

“Yeah.” There was no smothering my laugh as I unzipped the boots in question and wriggled out of them, abandoning them just inside the doorway. “You so did.”

Giving up on any attempt at maintaining distance, I crossed the room and crawled over the distressingly neat bedding—who could be that tidy while in bed?—to curl against his side.

I wasn’t surprised when he snapped his laptop closed, but I was disappointed. It would’ve been nice if he’d opened up to me about his true identity, especially since I already knew.

Besides, who would understand better than I would? We were both artists of a sort. Did he get to create as he saw fit or was he hamstrung by rules and standards he didn’t agree with too?

But I didn’t ask. I just dropped my head to his shoulder and slid my arm around his waist. “I woke up alone. I didn’t like it.”

“You found me well enough.” He pushed his laptop aside and shifted toward me, tilting my chin upward. Even in the darkened room, I felt his probing stare. “Are you okay?”

I sighed. “You’re not going to ruin some awesome sex with somenotawesome talking about it, are you? Because really, I’m cool with putting a period on it and just not going there.”

“I spanked you.” His voice held a note of something dark I didn’t fully understand. Nor was I sure I wanted to.

“Yeah. You did.” I snuggled closer and slid my fingers into the waistband of his silky pajama bottoms. He’d skipped a shirt and I was tempted to let my hands do the walking on his ripped chest and torso. “It was fucking incredible.”

“That’s it? You’re not unnerved?”

“Should I be?”

“No. Yes. I don’t know. We don’t know each other, Peyton, and I did something with you that pushed us into the realm of the familiar awfully quickly.”

“What better icebreaker is there? Questions about favorite colors and meals are so tedious.”

His sigh as he removed his glasses and set them on the nightstand made me grin, though I schooled my features into sober lines as he turned back to face me. “I half expected you to call a car to come get you as soon as you woke up.”

A new layer of disappointment crashed into the first. I tried to suppress it. If I was going to do this—or keep doing it, since I’d already gotten that ball rolling—the key was to not get my heart involved.

Except, oops, too late. Evidently, my butt and my chest were connected. A spanking, a few words of praise and some hot lovin’ later, and I thought I had a boyfriend.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

---