“No.”
She blinked into the darkness. “You just stayed with me?”
His arms tightened around her. “Yes.”
She didn’t know what to make of that.
The silence reverberated around them until she decided she’d overstayed her welcome. Both for her own peace of mind and probably his.
“I should go,” she said, beginning her slide out of bed.
“Don’t.”
She stilled. Her heart beat a staccato rhythm, panic filling her at the dichotomy she’d discovered within herself.
“Stay,” he said, an underlying tremor in that one word.
Her instinct to soothe him overrode her own sense of fear, and she rolled to her side, facing him. Her next words didn’t come easily. “You have to realize that we couldn’t be more different.”
He narrowed his gaze. “We’ve had enough dinners together for you to know we have plenty in common,” he said.
She couldn’t help but grin at his attempt to deliberately misunderstand her point. “You know what I mean.”
“I do.” His body stiffened, but he continued. “Clearly we’ve both got issues. But you’re talking about my sexual needs, and that’s your fear talking. You liked everything we’ve done together.”
She had. And that was the problem. She couldn’t accept it.
His domineering ways went against everything she wanted for herself. It reminded her too much of the emotional upheaval and painful childhood she’d left behind.
He leaned over and pressed his lips to hers with such extreme gentleness, tears formed in the corner of her eyes.
Despite everything inside her warning her to keep her distance, she responded, tension leaving her as he slid his tongue over her lips. She did the same, their mouths gliding back and forth.
For a long while, they lay side by side, just kissing. She lost herself in the taste of him, in his ability to give back to her in this simple but oh-so-effective way.
Her sex pulsed, heavy with need, her breasts grew tight with the need to be touched, yet he did nothing but explore her mouth with long, leisurely strokes of his tongue.
Even when she expected him to push further, when she gave him every indication she wanted more, he settled for seductive strokes of his tongue over her lips.
And later, when she said she needed to go home, he respected her wishes and walked her to her car, leaving her beyond disappointed he hadn’t pushed for her to stay.
NINE
Monday morning, Riley learned what crisis management meant at the Thunder front offices. Over the weekend, the travel secretary had informed Olivia that he’d be retiring and not returning to work when he recovered from his illness. Dylan Rhodes, who Riley had met last week, had been promoted to his position. He’d immediately begun making inquiries into new hotels, wanting to do things differently than his predecessor. As a result, Riley had been given a crash course in what it took for a hotel to become one the Thunder would be willing to stay in while on the road.
Under his direction, she’d looked into each hotel’s ability to accommodate team meeting space, the ability for their kitchens to meet the dietary needs of the players, and their willingness to block out whole floors, knowing full we
ll they could end up with vacancies due to winter storms and travel delays.
As the workday eased into early evening, Riley was exhausted yet exhilarated. She loved her new job and the challenges that came with it. She came back from a bathroom break to find out that Olivia had left a message on her desk to come see her immediately.
She headed to the other woman’s office. As she approached, the sound of raised voices told her this might not be the best time to interrupt.
“This isn’t the change I want you to make!”
Riley recognized Ian’s sharp tone.
“Well, travel isn’t your domain, it’s mine, and I’m making it,” Olivia shot back.