She was not a usee. She’d been thinking about becoming one, had even been thinking of using him to give her the pleasure wielded at his fingertips, which would make her a user, too. What she hadn’t been thinking of was going on a date with Jude Davenport.
That terrified her much more than the thought of having sex with him.
Sex was nothing to Jude. Maybe dates weren’t either. But to her, at that moment, dragging him into his bedroom and stripping him naked felt safer than agreeing to a date.
No.
She would not set herself up for that particular disappointment again.
“I can tell you are way over-thinking this,” he pointed out, lifting her chin to where she was looking into his eyes again. “It’s just a date, Sarah.”
Just a date. She hadn’t misread what he’d been offering. Jude wanted to take her on a date. A real date.
“I’m not your type,” she reminded him, positive that agreeing to go with him would be a bad idea, that to do so would be setting herself up for disappointment the way Kenny had never come close to.
What if she grew emotionally attached?
No, she knew better than to do that with a man like Jude. If they went out, it would be because he was tired tonight, but was interested in pursuing the sexual chemistry between them at a later time. On Friday night. Taking her to watch a Broadway show was no big deal to Jude, merely a form of foreplay.
She needed to be careful not to make his offer into more than what it was.
“And I’m not your type,” he countered her response, his eyes full of delicious promise. “So how about you say you’ll go to dinner and to see Phantom of the Opera with me? We will have a good time. I’ll be on my best behavior and give you a night you’ll never forget. I give my word.”
The man could sell sand in the middle of the desert.
“And then what?” she ventured, trying to play out in her mind what would happen after their “date”. “You expect me to sleep with you and then me to sneak out of your apartment the next morning?”
His expression didn’t waver. “I would never ask you to sneak out of my apartment, Sarah.”
Right. He’d just kiss her goodbye, while standing in his doorway with only a towel covering his lean hips, while she craved more of whatever he’d done the night before.
If she wasn’t careful, she’d be the one with no pride, offering to do whatever he wanted for just a little bit more of his delicious body.
She had to put a stop to this. Her sexual need had ebbed a little and she felt stronger, more able to walk away, and that’s exactly what she was going to do.
She went to turn from him, but he stopped her.
“I like you, Sarah,” he told her, his voice clear, sincere, imploring. “I’ve enjoyed tonight more than I’ve enjoyed talking with a woman in a long time. Stop judging me on what you think you know. Pretend you met me for the first time at the hospital today and listen to what your heart is saying right now.”
If she’d met him at the hospital and not had preconceived ideas she might think he was wonderful and not at all like the men her mother had warned her about.
“My heart isn’t saying anything right now.” Okay, so it was beating fast, and a little erratically, but that wasn’t speech.
He put his palm over her heart, as if interpreting an unspoken language.
Beating a lot erratically, she corrected, wondering why his hand on her chest made breathing so difficult.
“Maybe you just aren’t listening closely enough, because I think it is.”
“Don’t use lines on me, Jude Davenport,” she warned, reminding herself not to get caught up in what he was saying. The man was a practiced womanizer. “I’m not one of your women.”
Looking frustrated, he sighed. “How about we go to dinner and the show Friday evening and then just have some fun between now and Christmas? You get to decide how much, or how little, happens between us physically.”
No doubt shock registered in her eyes because his question floored her. That a lot would happen between them physically wasn’t in question. If she spent time with him, she would end up in his bed. She didn’t fool herself otherwise. She didn’t even deny to herself that a big part of her wanted to be in his bed, to know what it felt like to have him give her body pleasure.
“Christmas?” she finally croaked. “Christmas is weeks away. Wouldn’t Thanksgiving make more sense?”
Which almost sounded as if she was considering his outrageous suggestion. She wasn’t, was she?