Take Me (Take Me 1)
“I don’t know what you have against me, Travis,” she said, standing across from him, her hands pressed hard into the table, her br**sts swaying provocatively toward him. He forced himself to concentrate on her face and not her incredible ni**les as she said, “I don’t know what you’ve always had against me, why you feel you have to treat me like I’m beneath you.”
Her accusation snapped his mind back to attention, mostly because the validity of what she was saying made him feel like the smelliest piece of garbage in the gutter. The room spun, as she said, “I wasn’t kidding when I told you I was through with your attitude. I may have agreed to share a room with you for the next five days, but I absolutely refuse to let you stomp all over the most glorious—” I in sorry.
The words were out of his mouth before he knew they were coming. Lily’s mouth opened and closed several times, but at least she stopped saying all of those things that were wrenching at his gut. It was easier to apologize to her than to deal with her accusations.
I’ve always treated her like she’s beneath me?
“I’m sorry, Lily,” he said again, fumbling over himself to get her to sit back down. “I promise I’ll stop being such a jerk. It’s just…” He gestured around the room. “It’s just that all of these men are staring at you in that dress, and I can’t stand it because I know that they want to—”
“They are?”
Lily looked around the room in surprise, her anger replaced with surprise.
Travis breathed a sigh of relief that he had turned her attention away from what a raging jerk he was. He said, “Every single one of them, Lily,” and she sat back down while biting her lip in a show of disbelief.
“Like who? Show me who.”
Thank God she’s not leaving, he thought, as the fist unclenched in his gut. He pointed a thumb over his shoulder at the maître d’, then the waiter beside him, then gave up, and said, “The whole lot of ‘em, Lily.
Every last man in here wants to strip you out of that dress. The minute you walked in the door they started wondering what your br**sts would feel like in their palms, how it would feel to have your legs wrapped around them while they—”
“Okay, Travis,” she interrupted, her face pink, her eyes bright. “I get it. You don’t have to say anything more. Let’s try to have a nice dinner, then get some sleep so that we can get some work done tomorrow.”
She opened her menu, and Travis wondered at her sudden change in demeanor. Any other woman would have eaten up the attention she was getting, but Lily seemed unsure of how to deal with it. He should have kept his mouth shut, but he leaned across the table and reached for her hand.
“Attention isn’t a bad thing, you know,” he said, not quite sure why he was trying to make Lily feel better but all the same certain that he had to try.
Lily stared at her hand in his and blinked uncertainly. “All my life I’ve wanted to be invisible,” she said softly. “No,” she corrected, pain radiating from her, through his hand, with her words. “I have been invisible. Who wants to look at the fat girl unless they have something mean to say?”
“Lily, you’re not fat,” Travis said, realizing that he wasn’t just saying it to appease her. He actually meant it.
She pulled her hand away. “I told you to stop making fun of me. Why won’t you stop?” she pleaded.
Travis shook his head. “I’m serious, Lily. You look beautiful.”
“Yeah right, whatever,” she said, and he could tell she was trying to be strong, but the break in her voice gave her away.
A band started playing, and Travis decided there was only one way to break the tension. Getting up, he held out his hand. “Dance with me.”
After a moment’s uncertainty, Lily let him help her up and walk her over to the dance floor. He pulled her into his arms, feeling her tense and stiff against him. He let his fingers play in her curls, thrilling at the soft, silken strands. As he had hoped, the lulling music worked its spell on Lily, and he felt her muscles soften.
Her body eased against him, the dress flowing against his legs, and he had to work to keep himself from growing any harder than he already was, sure that he would scare her away if she could feel the thick bulge in his jeans. Thank God they weren’t relaxed fit; otherwise, his c**k would be liable to attack Lily right there on the dance floor. After the way she had teased him in the bathtub he had wanted to tie her to the bedposts in their hotel room and do every possible thing he could think of to her lush, responsive body.
Trying to shake the incredible image of bondage games with Lily from his mind’s eye, Travis made himself focus on how well they moved together, he and Lily. Her curves were the perfect foil for his taut strength.
Over her shoulder he saw lust in the eyes of’ the other men. He wanted to wear a badge, something to declare, “She’s all mine.”
The song ended, but he didn’t want to let her go. He again started to wonder what was wrong with him, but then he realized he just didn’t care anymore.
If this was how right wrong felt, he couldn’t believe how much time he had wasted fighting it.
He smoothed back a lock of Lily’s hair, brushing it past her ear, watching it flow over her shoulder. Every part of him wanted to kiss her, to take her earlobe between his teeth, to taste the soft, sweet-smelling skin on her neck, to go lower, to caress the top of her br**sts with his tongue…
Lily’s stomach growled and broke the spell. She pulled back and giggled self-consciously. “I guess my stomach knows when it’s time for dinner, no matter where I am in the world.”
Travis’s midsection grumbled loudly, and he grinned. “Did you hear that?” Lily nodded and bit her lip in that sexy way again. “Look what you’ve started.”
Lily led the way back to the table. “Everything looks so delicious,” she said, as they opened their menus,
“and I don’t even know what the words mean.”
Travis laughed and it felt good. And long overdue. He motioned for the waiter to come over. “We’ll have what they’re having,” he said, pointing to the couple sitting behind them. “And a bottle of Chianti.”
Lily smiled at him, and Travis’s stomach flipped over. Probably just hunger pangs, he told himself, but suddenly he wasn’t so sure.
Their food was served, and it looked and smelled better than any meal Lily had ever had. She wanted to dig in and devour the gnocchi in front of her, but her usual insecurities reared yet again. What if he thought she was a pig? Even though he had said she wasn’t fat—like she’d believe that in a million years