Dark Child (Wild Men 5)
Page 58
“Cos—”
I tug on my hand to free it, shaking my head. “I don’t want lies.”
“I didn’t. I wouldn’t lie to you, Cos. Dammit, wait.” He hangs on to my hand, not letting me get up and go. “I’m not normally an afternoon nap kind of guy, okay? You’re right.” He sighs. “It’s just that I hadn’t slept well the night before, and when I did fall asleep, I didn’t wake up until too fucking late.”
The tightness of his jaw, the bite of bitterness in his voice…
“Does that happen often?”
“Oversleeping?”
“Not sleeping at night.”
He shrugs, and those broad shoulders slump slightly. “Sometimes.”
Is he telling the truth? I look into his eyes and I think so. But we’re back to whether I trust myself to judge correctly—a hot guy, sitting naked beside me, all rational thought melting like chocolate in July.
Should I take a chance? Give this a chance?
It’s harder than I imagined. Despite the rule, Lin’s constant warnings, my own insistence to meet this hot guy, talk to him, fall into bed with him, I now hesitate.
Which is ridiculous. Heck, I already gave this a second chance. But maybe it wasn’t that, really. If I want to be honest with myself, I just wanted to curse him and kick at him and tell him what an asshole he is.
Throw at him all my fury and pain from all the previous assholes who hurt me.
And he’s just sitting there, gripping my hand, asking me to believe him. Not pushing me, not giving me elaborate lies or, like Steve, not bothering to pretend he had a reason not to meet me.
Is this right? Or am I crazy, and will Lin shoot me for my sins and hide my body in the woods?
So many doubts, so it’s a shock to hear myself say, “Good to know of your afternoon napping habits. You know… for future reference.”
His gaze brightens, his mouth quirks, and his cockiness returns. “Am I forgiven?”
“Merc…” I want to laugh.
But his eyes seem to darken, and when I look down, I find his cock hardening and rising against his flat stomach.
Oh boy. Familiar heat washes through me.
“Stay.” He lifts his other hand to my face, his thumb caressing my upper lip, then pressing into the lower one, gentle but also a reminder of his mouth on mine. “Listen. It’s raining. We could watch a movie, eat something.”
“I don’t know…”
He leans in, kisses me. “Stay.”
“I should get going…”
“Stay.” Then he’s deepening the kiss, his hand is cradling my jaw, his other hand sliding to the small of my back, hauling me against him, onto his lap.
How can you think straight like that? Not fair.
His cock pokes at me, rigid and huge between us, and everything else fades. I want it inside me again, I want him over me, his weight overpowering me. I want him.
Never wanted anyone like this before, so urgently, so continuously.
I kiss him back, my hands running over his naked chest and shoulders, the heat in my belly mounting as I map the contours of that masculine body.
He takes his time kissing me, his hard-on rubbing between our bodies, then he turns us and throws me down on the bed, climbing after me, tearing my clothes off as if they offend him.