Just One Night (Sex, Love & Stiletto 3)

But sitting on opposite sides of the car did nothing to ease the awareness that had been steadily growing over the course of the evening. Only the tension was different this time. It lacked the usual resentment. As though they both recognized the attraction and were on the verge of accepting it.

On the verge of doing something about it.

Oh, Emma. Don’t kill me.

“Tolerable, huh?”

Her eyes snapped back to his. “What?”

“You said my looks were merely tolerable.”

&n

bsp; She shrugged and gestured a finger over his flat stomach. “Well, duh. Because clearly you’re letting yourself go.”

His eyes bored into hers as he turned to face her more fully. “You didn’t seem to think so last week.”

“Last week, I was under the misassumption that there was something other than friendship between us.”

Sam’s eyes never left hers. “Isn’t there?”

She knew what he was doing. He was putting the ball in her court, making her take the first big steps. Uh-uh, Compton. I’m done being the hunter. You want me, you come get me.

Riley turned her head to look out the window, letting her silence say it all. I’m not playing.

They rode the rest of the way in not-quite-companionable silence, both aware that a decision awaited them but neither quite ready to take that step.

Riley paid the cabdriver and they walked up the cracked sidewalk to the door of her apartment building.

Still they said nothing, and the longer they remained silent, the more the air seemed to simmer around them. Riley knew full well that she should leave him here at the front door, where they were still in plain view of the smattering of people on the sidewalk. But when she wordlessly unlocked the main door, he silently followed.

And then they were outside her apartment door and it was definitely time to say goodbye before one or both of them did something they’d likely regret in the morning.

Or rather … Sam would regret it, and Riley would then hate that she’d become little more than an “oops” in his black book.

“You are officially relieved of brotherly duty,” she said quietly, trying for a cheeky smile. “This is about the point where Liam would leave me, probably to find some leggy blonde in a Village bar.”

Tell me you’re not going to go find some leggy blonde.

Sam said nothing, his face an unreadable mask.

“Well … night,” she said, hating him for making her feel awkward. Hating herself for so desperately wanting a man who didn’t want her enough to act on it.

He nodded once, continuing to stare at her with hot eyes, and she turned away before she could beg him, just once, to forget about her last name. To forget about whatever idiotic nonsense kept him from reaching for her.

Then he was reaching for her, turning her toward him even as he walked her back against the door, pinning her there with his body.

His eyes locked on hers for a heartbeat before his mouth moved over hers, a little roughly as his lips pushed hers apart. Riley’s purse dropped noisily to the ground, and she started to put her hands around his neck, only to have him grab her wrists, pinning them above her head as he continued his relentless assault on her mouth.

It was the kiss of a man who was done depriving himself—a man who’d take what he wanted, consequences be damned. Riley let him take what he wanted.

“Keys,” he said against her ear before his lips moved down her neck.

Keys? She could barely remember her name, but when he released her hands, they were definitely not holding the keys she’d had minutes earlier.

She bent over to pick them up, relieved when her hands didn’t shake as she fit the key into the lock.

This was it. Sex. Making love. Hell, it didn’t matter what she called it. She was finally going to figure out what all the fuss was about.