Tempting the Billionaire (Love in the Balance 1)
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You were thinking it.”
He was adorable when lacking confidence. She moved to sit next to him, even though facing backward made her woozy. She curled her legs beneath her and plucked the paper from his hands. In what she hoped was a seductive move, she flicked her wrist and tossed it in a pile at his feet.
“You”—she poked a finger into his chest, batting her eyelashes—“don’t have a clue what I’m thinking.”
The corner of his mouth curved. “Guilty.”
She plucked one button from its buttonhole, followed by another. He pulled her onto his lap and she straddled him, taking the opportunity to muss his thick hair with her fingers.
“You’re becoming a habit,” he murmured.
Oh, she liked the sound of that. Shane was a routine guy. Every day sounded like a habit she could get into. His hands closed around hers, stroking her fingers and sending the blood zinging through her veins like a laser light show.
“Kiss me.”
She obeyed.
As she moved her lips on his, she considered it was Shane who was becoming the habit. It was hard to imagine not being this close to him, not touching him, not kissing him.
His hands slid down to cup her bottom, where it rested on his lap. He deepened the kiss, sending her pulse racing. Closing her eyes, she kissed him back and returned to the task of opening his shirt. The future would happen whether she worried about it or not.
And for now, she chose not.
* * *
A bowl of half-eaten popcorn and two wineglasses rested on Shane’s coffee table. Crickitt sat, knees tucked to her chin on the stylish black leather couch. Her heels began to slide and she pushed herself up for the twelfth time. And, for the twelfth time, slid right back down. “I hate this couch!”
Shane chuckled.
She faced him. “I can’t enjoy my movie if I’m constantly slipping onto the floor.”
He turned his attention to the television, where an enormous alligator chomped on a hapless fisherman’s remaining limbs. Shane screwed his mouth to one side. “I’m not sure how you can enjoy it as it is.”
She couldn’t help laughing. He’d pandered to her fondness for horror movies, letting her pick what to snuggle up and watch after each of their weekday dates. Though, in her defense, they did more making out than watching the screen. Still, he could probably use a break.
She pointed the remote and the television winked off. “Let’s do what you want to do tonight.” Wasting no time, he reached for her. She pushed against him. “I’m serious. I have been eating up your evenings every night since we got back from Tennessee.” So far, the most amazing nights of her life.
He frowned. “You make it sound like you’re keeping me from something.”
“Aren’t I?”
Shane patted his flat stomach. “My workouts. If I miss too many more, I’ll lose my figure.”
“Okay, well, let’s be active.”
Shane’s grin was predatory. “Yes. Let’s.”
He smothered her attempt to shove him away by nuzzling her neck. Moving her shirt aside, he kissed her bare shoulder and slipped his tongue under her bra strap.
“I meant a real workout,” she managed weakly.
“Oh, it will be.”
The clock on the wall chimed and his shoulders went rigid, his mouth hovering over her neck. As the last chime echoed across the room, his arms tightened around her and he returned his lips to her skin.
It was a subtle reaction, the briefest response. But she noticed.
She grasped Shane’s face between her palms. “What was that?” She smoothed the crease between his brows with her thumb.
He pushed a hand through his hair, swiping her hands from his face in the process. “What was what?”
“Your reaction. To the clock.” She wasn’t sure that’s what it was until he shot her a look, confirming it.
He recovered quickly. “Just noticed it was late, that’s all.”
“Late,” she said flatly. It wasn’t, not for them. Each of their dates lasted until they were both yawning, their eyes heavy.
Shane clenched his jaw. A piece of his hair stood out from the side of his head. She reached for it, but he dipped his head to one side, avoiding her.
He stood, gesturing toward her half-full wineglass. “Done?”
“Uh…I guess so.”
He carried their glasses to the sink and washed them at the island, his face drawn. Had the room cooled several degrees, or was it her? She shrugged her shirt back over her shoulder as Shane came to stand between the kitchen and the front door.