Her legs locked around his waist. He carried her to the kitchen table, kissing her every step of the way.
Carefully, he eased her back on the tabletop. A sexy smile spread across her face in invitation. Her hair fanned across the wood. She looked like a goddess—gorgeous, sexy, strong.
And his for the taking.
His hands stroked her shoulders, her breasts, the smooth flat planes of her stomach, until he swept her silk pajama pants down. Her sigh of anticipation drew a growl of appreciation from him.
Dropping to his knees between her legs, he caressed her, nuzzled, found her with his tongue. Her hands gripped him in encouragement. Each time they were together, he learned more about her body, her wants and her desires. He burned to glean more insights; pleasuring her damn well pleasured him.
With each touch and tease along the tight bundle of nerves, he called on the ways he knew to bring her to completion in an intense rush. Her breath came faster and faster until…
Yes.
Her back arched in pleasure as she bit back cry after cry. Her legs clamped harder at his shoulders, her fingers digging in. He guided her as each aftershock rippled through her, until she relaxed with a sated sigh.
He inched up her body and cradled her face in his hands. “Let’s be together. Really together.”
“You don’t have to say that to get me in bed.” Her eyes were heavy lidded, her cheeks still flushed from her release.
“I noticed. Now say you’re ready to get serious with me.” He cradled a breast in his hand, his thumb stroking over the tightening peak.
She clasped his wrist. “Don’t use sex as leverage.”
“Be with me.” He rested his forehead against hers, his voice hoarse with emotion.
“I heard you the first time.” Easing out from under him, she righted her clothes again. He could feel her body tense as she moved away.
“I’m going to keep asking.” He couldn’t back down from his proposition. Not now. Not after the last few nights together. Not after all their shared history and twined futures.
“Even if it turns out Fleur isn’t your baby, you want me in your life long-term?” Her tone was dark, as sharp as a knife leveled at his heart.
Broderick crossed his arms, staring hard at her. “You think I want to be with you for free babysitting services? I can pay someone for that.”
Child care wasn’t his concern. He had enough money to make sure Fleur had the best care possible, around the clock.
Glenna’s eyes turned melancholy—with a hint of steel. “I think you’re looking for a mother for her, and I’m the one who comes with the least complications.”
She raked back her hair, a shudder falling from her lips down to her toes. Broderick couldn’t help but note how ragged she sounded.
He laughed darkly. “If you actually believe you come without complications then you are not thinking clearly.”
Nothing about their situation was simple. A decades-long family feud, engaged parents…a passion that had danced between them since they were teenagers. Now precious baby Fleur.
“There’s no need to be sarcastic.” She paced away from him. Creating distance. Old habits. Just like a decade ago.
She doubted him? Well, he could dissuade her of that notion. This time, he’d make sure she didn’t walk away.
He followed her and rested his hands on her shoulders. “I’m serious.”
“Then I will rephrase.” Her face was sad, her hair a tousled mess. “You know I’m the person least likely to complicate your life by falling in love with you.”
Ouch. “That’s harsh. And also a weird compliment, if you think every woman is at risk of succumbing to my charms.”
He ran a light finger down her arm. For a moment she leaned toward him. Almost an answer to his call.
Her face softened. “I don’t mean to insinuate that your feelings don’t matter. You’re offering something serious. That’s a big deal. But I know you’re not in love with me.”
Love. A word that only brought pain.
She had to know that. He’d thought his plan would appeal to her. God knows, the idea of a lifelong passionate friendship enticed him. A way to be connected to someone without the emotional risk, without laying bare his heart and having his scars flayed open.
Had he been wrong in his approach with Glenna? If so, it wouldn’t be the first time he’d royally screwed things up when it came to this woman—or to relationships overall. “Is that what you want me to say?”
“No!” She almost shouted the word, then glanced toward the baby’s room. “No,” she said more softly. “I just want you to stop pressuring me. Give me time to think. I hear what you’re saying and how it makes sense. But everything is happening so fast. I need time to sort through the implications. I need time. Please.”