e sheets, or maybe wearing a nightgown with the blankets over her legs, her bare bottom showing . . . Jesus Christ! He grabbed a glass from the drying rack next to the sink and poured himself a glass of water from the faucet, then downed it.
This night was going to be long.
His cock twitched; even the fabric of his boxer briefs brushing against his hardened flesh was a constant tease. Again he filled his glass of water, and sipped it this time. The coolness sliding against his tongue was a much-needed relief.
On the fourth sip of his water, he realized he wasn’t alone. He slowly glanced over his shoulder, only to wish that he hadn’t. Emma leaned against the doorframe, wearing only cotton panties and a skin-tight white tank top. His vision narrowed on the curves of her breasts and the small, dark nipples peeking through the thin fabric.
He swallowed the water in his mouth, lifting his gaze to the slight smile on her face. “You are making this incredibly hard for me,” he told her, slightly annoyed now.
Her grin widened. “Is being hard such a bad thing?”
Being playful, was she?
Fuck, he had a hard time controlling himself without that goddamn sweet sparkle in her eyes. He downed the remainder of the water in the glass, keeping his gaze locked on her. Apparently, she’d done some thinking since he sent her off to bed. The rich desire in her eyes was an outright invitation for sex. An invitation he had no intention of refusing. He placed the glass in the sink then stalked forward, openly staring at her puckered nipples. She’d given him the invite; he’d take a look at what she was offering.
When he closed in on her, he found her chest rising and falling with her heavy breaths. She nibbled her lip, a sign that no matter how brave she might be, compared to him, she was a little mouse being hunted by a lion. That slight hesitation was what stopped him from bending her over the counter and making her scream. He also couldn’t forget the doctor’s warning to watch out for odd behavior. “What exactly are you doing here, Emma?” he asked bluntly, done with this game.
“I’m not sure,” she said gently.
His tension lessened some. If she suddenly jumped him, ripping off his boxers, he knew he needed to call the doctor. She was still hesitant but questioning, rationalizing things between them in her mind, not acting strangely. “You’re not sure because you don’t know me? Or because of the accident today?”
She rolled her eyes, laughing softly. “I don’t even have a bump on my head. The most I am is bruised, and most of that is my ego. This isn’t because of the accident, and you know that.”
Still, he needed to trust this was the real Emma he spoke to, not an Emma altered by a hit on the head. He moved against the island in the middle of the kitchen, crossing his arms over his chest. “Then what exactly are you so unsure about?”
Her brows came together, and in that moment, Shep saw the reason for her hesitation all over her face. Emma hid nothing of what she felt when she experienced it, and the past pain she’d obviously endured washed across her expression while she explained. “You have to understand that I promised myself I would never do this again. And I made that promise no more than a month ago.”
“Do what exactly? Become interested in a man?”
She nodded. “That, and my head just isn’t right. It wouldn’t be fair to you to get involved with me like this.”
He thought it cute that she worried about him, and it said a lot that, though she’d been hurt badly, she still cared for this Jake. This was a woman who had a big heart, one wasted on an asshole. “I don’t need you deciding what is fair for me and what’s not, darlin’.” He leveled her with a hard look. “Last night at the Spurs, you practically melted into the floor when I touched you, and if you had allowed it, I would have fucked you right there in the parking lot in my truck.” He liked the way her breath hitched and eyes heated. “Do you melt the way you did for me with every man who touches you?”
“No.” She glanced at her bare feet a moment, then lifted her pretty eyes to his again. “It’s not that I don’t want you . . . but it’s confusing. I don’t want a relationship, but then there’s you . . . and this thing that I can’t even explain but can feel . . . and I’m trying to ignore you, but I haven’t slept at all, even though I’m so tired, because all I can think about is you being in the bed across from me, and me wanting to be there too.”
His cock twitched again in his boxer briefs. She noticed, her gaze flicking there, mouth parting, breath deepening. He didn’t know what this Jake was like. Obviously, a complete jackass for the way he hurt her, but Shep wasn’t that guy. He placed his hands on the island, leaving himself wide open for her. “If you want me, Emma, come and have me. It’s that simple.”
“It’s not that simple, though,” she said softly.
“Actually, yeah, it is.” At least for him. “If you want to have fun, we can have some fun. If you want me gone tonight, I’ll go. If you want me to stay, I’ll stay. If you want me to take you for dinner tomorrow, I’m good with that. There’s something here between us. I want to explore it. Nothing more. Nothing less.”
She hesitated.
In that hesitation, Shep made his move, intent to get his point across.
He closed the distance, feeling the heat pouring off her body. He knew her pussy would be warm and wet, as much as he’d known last night that when she got off that stage she was drenched with silky desire. “My only hesitation here is your hesitation.” He pressed the length of his body against her soft curves, this woman who was putty in his hands. He leaned in and dragged his nose up her neck, inhaling her soft powdery scent. “I want to tie you up for real this time, and mercilessly tease you until you beg me to be inside you.” He grabbed her hips, yanking her close against his raging hard-on. “I want to fuck you. Hard.” She gasped, angling her head back, and melted in his hands when he brought his mouth to her ear. “I want you to come. Against my mouth. Against my fingers. Against my cock.” She shivered, and he grinned, becoming addicted to how she sensually responded to him. “But we have a problem, you and I.”
She slowly opened her eyes, hooded with desire. “What problem?” she whispered.
“From the way I see it, you’re full of doubt and confusion, and while there is nothing wrong with that, you need to be damn sure you want me to touch you.” He grabbed her chin, titling her gaze up to meet his. “Because, darlin’, the last thing I’ll ever be is someone’s mistake.” With everything inside of him screaming to say, he did the right thing.
He walked away.
* * *
Life was made up of a bunch of choices. Some good. Some bad. Emma only had a few times where she wasn’t quite sure of the direction she took. Now, as she wrapped her hand around the bedroom’s door handle and whisked it open, discovering Shep’s sly grin while he lay in bed, one arm tucked behind his head, the blankets resting low on his hips, she knew she’d made the right choice. It no longer mattered if she had it all figured out. “You won’t be a mistake,” she said, standing in the doorway.
There it was, all very simple.