“You don’t want much, do you?”
* * *
Just his soul, Ben thought. Her damp heat surrounded him, and she’d begun a steady clenching of her pelvic muscles that had him grinding his teeth and nearly sent him over the edge.
But the rational part of him didn’t blame her for her confusion and understood the need to resort to dominant tactics. And she was good at them. So good that in another second, he’d be blurting out all his secrets. Something that wouldn’t do either of them any good and would deny them both what they desperately desired: each other.
Warm brown eyes met his. “I want you, Ben.” But he saw the insecurity hovering in the darkened depths and respected that although she played a game, the act and the feelings were obviously new for her, too.
His body shook from the effort of holding back, from the exertion of not taking her into his arms and kissing her senseless, then stripping off those wet clothes and burying himself deep inside her.
He forced himself to think about what her statement implied. She wanted him, but she didn’t know who he really was. She desired answers to why he held back, yet he couldn’t tell her he was maintaining his distance for the sake of his job. And for her grandmother’s sake.
So, he opted for the safest route. “I don’t do commitments.”
At least, he never had before. No woman had lasted longer than a month, tops. Between work and caring for his ailing mother, he’d never had the time to make the effort it took for a relationship to last. He glanced at Grace. Or maybe no woman had interested him enough, fascinated him enough.
She shrugged. “It’s been a while since I’ve had one of my own. And I don’t recall asking you for any commitments.” She ran one fingernail down his chest, slowing down at the thin line of hair from his navel into the waistband of his jeans.
The tingling sensation set his already-raw nerve endings aflame. He swallowed hard. “You might not be asking, but you’re entitled to them.”
“I think I know best what I want.” She worked at the clasp on his fly. “What I need.” She popped open the button of his jeans. “What I deserve.”
He grabbed her wrist in his hand. His body was strung tight while his mind wandered in varied directions. He could give in, give them both what they desired, and he could walk away in the end. But his conscience kicked in, telling him he couldn’t selfishly take while lying to her at the same time.
If he wanted to deceive himself, he could say giving in had professional benefits. A temporary relationship with Grace enabled him to protect her when she was on the streets, in the park. She’d fight him accompanying her under any circumstances, but as a couple, he’d have a chance to remain by her side during the time he was in Emma’s employ. A chance to discover who was out to get her—and why.
But why lie? He wanted to protect her, apart from doing his job. When he left in a few short weeks, he wanted to leave her safe. And giving in to her now would help him in his cause, help him be close to her in the time they had left. “You deserve the best.”
She arched her back and leaned closer. The effect was more intimate body contact—if such a thing were possible. Her sex nestled against his straining cock.
She glanced down at their intertwined hands. “Then you need to let go of me.” Her voice came out a breathless whisper.
He released his grip, wondering just how far she would go. But he had to touch her. He needed the contact too badly. Reaching out, he grabbed for her ponytail, freeing the delicate strands from confinement. Blond hair sifted over her shoulders and grazed her face.
“I’m all yours, princess.” He leaned his head back against the seat, wanting to get a better look at her. Her cheeks were flushed and her brown eyes were alive with delight… and determination.
She wiggled backward, each not-so-subtle movement putting a strain on his erection. She hesitated, and he felt her indecision. He waited, knowing it was her choice.
And then she made it, pulling down on his zipper in an excruciatingly slow motion, making sure her hand cupped and molded his arousal with each incremental move downward.
Ben thought he knew all about foreplay. He thought he knew how to control himself, but her dainty-yet-deliberate maneuvers were bringing him closer to the edge than ever before in his life, and the anticipation of what she planned next was killing him.
“You’d better be sure you know what you’re doing,” he said through tightly clenched teeth.
She flipped her mane of hair over her shoulder and glanced up. “Are you questioning my prowess?” Her lips lifted into a provocative grin, but her eyes held questions.
“I’d be a fool to deny the obvious.”
As if his words had given her permission, she then edged the zipper down completely. With one hand, she reached inside his open jeans, and with a little dexterity, she freed his cock.
He let out a slow groan. “I just want to make sure you know what you’re getting yourself into.”
“Like you said, it’d be ridiculous to deny the obvious.” She ran her palm up and down his rigid shaft in a move more experimental than sure. “And besides, you drove us into a secluded alley behind the building. No one’s going to see us.”
He let out a groan. She obviously meant what she said. She wanted to play with fire. And since he’d already made his decision not to back off, the control he’d held on to snapped.
Between them, they made fast work of her jeans. Despite the cramped quarters, somehow, they got them unsnapped and down over her hips until they went flying to the other side of the car.