Your Endless Love (The Bennett Family 9)

I swipe my suddenly sweaty palms on my skirt. “I’m not shutting you out. I’m just... I’m freaking out, and I don’t like being watched when I’m at it.”

He frowns, his eyes searching my face. “Why are you freaking out?”

Cupping both my cheeks in his big, strong hands, he rubs little circles with his thumbs on my cheeks, and some of the tension melts away from my body.

“I think this is the first time I actually realize how many wome

n want you.” Wow. Wow. I’m slipping into full meltdown mode, and I don’t know how to stop it. How can I not have realized this before? He’s an international star and has more Sexiest Man titles under his belt than I can count. “This happens a lot, doesn’t it?”

“I’m not gonna lie, it does. But I usually throw out the notes right away. I just didn’t see this one. For the record, I only called back a few times when I first started out. I haven’t done that in years, and I don’t plan to.”

He draws me closer to him, tipping my head up, lowering one hand over my left boob. A split second later, I realize his intention isn’t to fondle my boob but to feel the rhythm of my heart.

“I don’t want your heart racing unless it’s with happiness. Talk to me. What are you afraid of?”

I bite at the inside of my lower lip, feeling small and foolish as I admit, “That you’ll feel lonely or bored at some point when you’re away and give in to temptation.”

“The same thing applies to you. When I’m away filming, you could get bored, want someone to warm your bed.”

“No, no, I won’t. My libido is on high alert only around you,” I joke, but raw vulnerability shines in his eyes.

“Summer, whatever happens between us, promise you’ll be upfront and honest about it.”

“I promise.”

“Then can you believe that I promise you the same?” Kissing my forehead, he pulls me into his arms, and I lose myself in his warmth and all that hard muscle. Believing someone’s promise is more complicated than gifting them with yours, because when you chose to believe someone, you give them power over you. But cocooned like this, wrapped in Alex, I know we’re kindred spirits—we don’t make empty promises.

“Yes, I do, Alex. I do.”

Tipping my head up, he kisses me, and I melt against him. God, I’m so happy he’s back. My chest fills with little bubbles of joy as realization seeps in that he flew in just to spend time with me.

“Let’s go, beautiful,” he murmurs against my lips. “Our night is just starting.”

“Umm... I’m quaking in my boots. Well, my peep-toes.”

“Very well. You should.”

“Was that a threat or a promise?” I should perhaps wait with the teasing until we’re out of here, but I can’t help myself. He has the most delicious replies, and each and every one of them either makes my toes curl or my lady parts tingle—sometimes both.

How he does it, no clue, but instead of studying the phenomenon, I intend to enjoy it. It’s a much better use of my time.

He smiles. “I’ll leave you guessing for now. One hint: you’ll enjoy it either way.”

Yup, everything is tingling: toes and lady parts.

When he takes my hand, leading me out of the room, a current of awareness sizzles through me. I don’t think he means to, but he strips more and more of my defenses every time we’re together. And the scary part? I want to let him. More than that, I want to do the same to this delicious man.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Alex

“Wait a second. I want to see your paintings before we leave,” I tell her once we’re on the ground floor. “They’re still here, right?”

Her eyes widen. “Yes. You really want to see them? You don’t have to humor me.”

“I do want to see them. That’s why I came directly to the gallery.”

Taking my hand, she leads me to a separate room on the ground floor, smaller than the one in the front. She doesn’t switch on the main lighting system, just the installations projecting above every individual painting.