br /> A smile curved up his lips, and he scooted closer. People on the television talked, but neither of them listened. “Are we being honest?”
“Aren’t we always?” she said breathlessly.
“I like to think so, yes.”
She rested her hand on his thigh. If someone had told her months ago that she would be comfortable enough with Wyatt Hamilton to actually touch his thigh while sitting on her couch with him, she would have laughed so hard she got the hiccups. If they had told her she would know what he looked like naked, she would never have stopped laughing.
Yet here she was, with her hand on his thigh, intimately familiar with every inch of his body, clothed or unclothed. “Then say what you need to say.”
He opened his mouth, closed it, and sighed. “We should have stopped sleeping together weeks ago. That one night should have been just that. One night. It’s all I ever do.”
Seriously. Was something sharp stabbed into her heart? “Like I said, if you want to stop now—”
“I don’t. That’s the problem. That’s always been the problem.” He set his beer down on the table. She did the same, though she wasn’t really sure why. “Every sensible part of my brain is telling me we’re taking this too far, and someone is going to get hurt.”
“Why would someone get hurt? We talked about what this is.”
“Yeah, but the more time you spend with someone, the easier it is to forget expectations and rules.” He pushed her hair off her face, tucking it behind her ear. The gesture was more intimate than anything else he did. Maybe because he did it without thought. He just noticed something in her way and took care of it. It was so natural. So familiar. So right. “You could make me want to forget, but I don’t want to make you do the same. I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Then don’t.”
She closed the distance between them, kissing him, and he groaned. It was long and deep and masculine—and also somehow possessively dominant. He pulled her on top of him, and she straddled him, squeezing him between her thighs. He deepened the kiss, burying his hand in her hair, and secured his free one around her hip, gripping her tightly. As his mouth moved under hers, he thrust his hips, moving against her, making her entire body tense and crave even more.
She always wanted more of him.
Like he said, that was the problem.
Maybe he was right. Maybe they should have stopped weeks ago. Maybe they never should have taken that step that led them to where they were now. But they had. And she couldn’t regret that, or anything that became of it, because with him, she was happy. Yes, that happiness was temporary, and yes it would go away. But not all happiness was meant to last forever.
That didn’t make it any less meaningful.
Or any less real.
He broke the kiss off, breathing heavily. “I’m serious, Kass. I don’t want to hurt you. Don’t want to confuse things.”
“I’m not confused.” She shook her head, trying to kiss him again.
He avoided her mouth, tightening his hold on her. “What we have between us is special. I never want you to doubt that this means something to me. That you mean something to me. But…”
“It doesn’t change anything. You still don’t want to be with anyone.” She forced a smile. The words didn’t hurt, but the fact that he needed to say them again, after all this time, kind of did. “I promise. This is just fun for both of us. Just amazing sex. Nothing more.”
For a second, she’d swear she’d…hurt him.
Like he didn’t like hearing her say those words.
Maybe, though, she projected that onto him because deep down, she wanted it to be true. She wanted him to want more. But he never would. What she wanted and what was reality were not the same. No one understood that better than her. “Right. Sex.”
He kissed her again, but there was a franticness behind it that called to her soul and made her, once again, think there was more than met the eye when it came to Wyatt Hamilton. But those suspicions were dangerous. There was nothing buried deep under his words.
What he said was what she got, and that was all there was to it.
To believe otherwise was foolish.
He broke off the kiss long enough to rip her shirt over her head, and then his lips were back on hers with a desperation that defied reason. He undid her bra and closed his hands over her breasts, rolling his fingers over the hard peaks. Her stomach tightened, and she moved against him, riding him through the fabric of the clothing that was still in the way. He yanked on her leggings, and she stood up, shimmying out of them effortlessly.
When they hit the floor, his eyes widened. Licking his lips, he reached out and ran his finger down her stomach, over her belly button, and between her thighs. “No underwear?”
“Not today. I like to keep you on your toes.”