The times between those were various degrees of unsatisfying, but I can accept the blame for a lot of that. Sex makes me feel exposed, and experience has taught me that even guys who think I’m hot when my clothes are on change their mind when they come off. Things get awkward.
I’m shaking with nerves, but this is Dean. He doesn’t pretend to be attracted to me. He really wants me.
All I need are his hot eyes and magic hands on me, and I’ll forget everything else. Or at least I hope I will.
While I wait for Dean, I pour myself a glass of wine and change out of my dress and into a silky slip I bought last Monday. I was feeling so confident and sexy after my evening with Dean that I splurged. It’s light pink and short, with spaghetti straps and matching lace panties. The last time I had the courage to wear something like this was in front of Cody, and considering how that ended, I haven’t bothered with lingerie since.
For Dean, I’ll face all my fears.
When my doorbell rings, I’m armed with the pink slip, sexy music, and a glass of wine, and I’m still not prepared for the look on his face when I open the door. Trixie pushes past me into the house and begins sniffing all the furniture and corners, but my attention is entirely on the man on the other side of the threshold.
“Jesus.” He pushes into the house and shuts the door behind him. The only time his eyes leave me is when they flick to my wine glass.
“Do you like it?” I shouldn’t ask. I should just fake confidence. As if it’s completely normal for me to greet a man at the door while wearing something so slinky.
“That depends. Are you wearing it for me?”
I chuckle. “Of course.”
“When did you buy it?”
I frown. He’s acting . . . different. “Monday.”
“Why?”
I swallow. “Why did I buy it?”
“Yeah.” His voice is rough, as intense as his dark gaze. “What made you buy it? Were you thinking of me or just—”
“You. This.”
“Then I love it.” His gaze flicks to the wine again. “Tell me you’re sober.”
“So sober.”
He takes the glass from my hand. “Let’s keep it that way.” With his other hand, he leads me into my own apartment, depositing my wine glass on a living room end table before pulling me toward the bedroom.
Stopping at the bed, he turns to me as he unbuttons his shirt and tosses it on the floor. When he peels off his undershirt, exposing his strong, sculpted chest, my insides quiver in anticipation. He’s gorgeous. I’ve always thought so, but any attraction I felt to him before is amplified by the intimacy we’ve shared over the last few weeks.
“We’re not playing pretend right now.” Stepping close, he fingers the thin strap of my negligee then slides it from my shoulder. “This is one hundred percent real.”
I cock my head to the side, studying him. “I didn’t mean to upset you when I said that. I just don’t want you to worry I’ll get clingy or something.”
Gently lacing his fingers around both my wrists, he places my hands to his warm, hard chest. “By all means. Cling. I think I’d enjoy a little of that. Or a lot.”
I grin up at him. I don’t think he understands exactly what I’m saying, but it doesn’t matter. He knows just what to say to put my worries at ease, and tonight I’m grateful for that above all else. I skim my fingers down his chest, over his stomach, and along the waistband of his jeans. “You’re gorgeous.”
His nostrils flare, eyes darkening. “And you’re beautiful.” His tongue darts out to touch his bottom lip as he sweeps the strap off the other shoulder. “I like this.”
“Me too,” I admit.
“I bet you hoped I’d fuck you in it,” he murmurs, and my breath catches at the rough language. “I bet you imagined me pushing you onto that bed and driving inside you without bothering to take it off.”
Heat pools between my legs. “The possibility may have crossed my mind.”
“Tempting.” He slides a hand beneath each strap, guiding them down my arms. The satin slides over my skin, and I gasp as I realize he’s taking it off, letting it slide down my body instead of over my head.
My breasts are bare, then my stomach. His eyes are on mine, not on my body, though he’s too close to see all of me anyway. When the slip falls to the floor in a pool of satin around my feet, my heart races.
“Tonight, I need to see all of you,” he says.
I’m in nothing but lacy underwear, and I’ve never wanted someone to find me sexy as much as I want Dean to right now. I’ve never wanted anything to be real as much as I want this to be real. This night between us. This connection. This hunger he feels for me. I gobble up every bit of it.