“No romance?”
He chuckled. “No.”
Megan looked toward the doorway, surprised that Ean had approached without her hearing him. She pulled a book from one of the shelves. “Did you like The Odyssey?”
“Very much.”
She returned the novel to the bookcase. “Then you enjoy romance.”
He walked over to her and stood so close. “I never said I didn’t enjoy romance.”
His voice was low and rough and elicited a reaction from her she couldn’t put into words. It was a feeling she’d never had before.
Megan swallowed to ease the tightness in her throat. “Can you take anything seriously?”
“Let’s see.” He lowered his mouth to hers. Megan sighed. This was what she’d been waiting for all evening . . . all day. Her eyelids drifted closed and she inhaled deeply. Ean’s scent—musk and soap—clouded her judgment. His taste thrilled her—pasta and spice. His corded arms wrapped around her, pulling her closer to his long, lean warmth. Megan was on sensory overload. She pressed even harder to Ean, pushing her breasts against his muscled chest.
Ean lifted his head, then trailed hot kisses down the side of her neck. “Is this serious enough for you?” His voice was a powerful aphrodisiac.
“Oh yes.” Megan could barely breathe much less talk.
He chuckled deep in his throat. The sound vibrated down her body to her thighs. Megan traced his ear with her tongue, then bit its lobe. Ean’s lips traveled farther down her neck. He licked her collarbone and Megan shivered from the inside out.
She tipped back her head and breathed slowly. Megan dragged her fingers across the vast expanse of his shoulders. Her nipples tightened as his heat burned her through his black jersey. She followed the rigid line of his spine, until she found the waistband of his khakis. She needed to feel his skin against hers, nothing in between them.
Megan tugged Ean’s jersey from his pants and slipped her palms up his back. His muscles quivered beneath her touch. Her mouth went dry. Memories of last night made her damp and hot.
Ean swept her into his arms. Megan’s eyes popped open as he carried her to the sofa in two long strides.
She looked up at his sharp, tense features. “I could have walked.”
His gaze scorched her. “This was faster.”
Ean toed off his shoes and lowered her to her feet. Megan stopped him before he moved them to the sofa. Wordlessly, she helped him pull off his jersey. The sight of his bare burnt sienna chest made her swallow. She trailed her fingers through the light layer of crisp hairs that covered his pecs and led into his waistband. Holding his gaze, Megan tugged off his belt and popped open the button of his pants.
Ean lay on the sofa, luring her down on top of him. Megan didn’t take much coaxing. She was so hot—she could have burned to ashes. He drew her head down to his. Megan parted her lips for their kiss . . . but a deeper shadow on the beige carpet in front of the mahogany coffee table snatched her attention.
She pulled away from Ean. “What’s that?” A warning stirred in the back of her mind.
“What?” Ean sounded as though he was still in the moment.
Megan stretched down to rescue the flimsy, see-through material. She straddled Ean as she held the bit of cloth in front of her. Megan had never seen the bra before, but she knew instantly to whom it belonged. Ean’s expression of surprised dismay confirmed her fears.
“How could you?” Megan hadn’t felt so inadequate since she’d been fourteen and had opened her bedroom door to find Ean and Ramona kissing in the hallway. She struggled to get away from him.
Ean clamped a hand on her left leg. “Megan, wait a—”
“Don’t touch me.” She snarled like a wounded wild animal and flung Ramona’s bra in his face. Ean dropped his hand and she scrambled off him.
Ean rose to his feet beside her. “Megan, will you please wait a minute?”
She spun toward him. “You knew I didn’t want to get involved with you until you broke up with Ramona.”
“We have broken up.”
“Really?” She snatched Ramona’s bra from the carpet and shook it under his nose. “Then whose bra is this, and how did it end up beside the very same sofa on which we were making love?”
Ean cupped her fist. “I didn’t invite her here. I didn’t invite her to take off her clothes, either.”