Finding Him (Covet 2)

Even the gentlest touch set me off.

I hated my body for responding to anything he did; it felt like a direct betrayal of Noah even though I knew logically I would eventually have to move on. Eventually I’d live the life we’d planned but with another man.

The thought brought me back to reality and away from Julian’s soft touches and teasing remarks.

I was at that cabin for a reason, and that reason was not to crush on a playboy who probably had enough notches in his bedpost to break the frame.

Besides, we were on round five.

He won the first three.

I won the fourth.

“You’re staring awful hard at your cards . . .”

“It’s not my fault I keep getting distracted by your polka-dotted bra. Didn’t notice the little bow on it before. I like it. Did your mom buy you a lollipop before or after she took you shopping at Target?”

I scowled and looked down at my cards. “First off, you’re the one who said that socks are a pair and count as one. Second, if you don’t like it, don’t look.” The last thing I needed was another go around with Julian helping me get the bra back on—I barely survived the first time. “And third, this is Victoria’s Secret. Oh, and fourth, you’re an ass.”

“Victoria’s Secret,” he repeated, his eyes skimming his cards and then the upper half of my mostly bare body before looking back down again. “Wouldn’t have guessed.”

I shivered and changed the subject. “So? What will it be?”

“All in.” He shoved all his M&M’s, aka his chips, to the middle of the table, his grin so smug it was almost cute—almost.

I looked down at my cards again. I had a pair of sevens. That was it. I narrowed my eyes at him. Did he have a tell? Businessmen were typically boardroom warriors with nerves of steel, so I highly doubted he’d reveal anything in a card game.

He scratched the back of his head.

Bingo.

I shoved my candy forward. “Call.”

“Show me your cards.”

“You first.” I grinned.

He shook his head and flipped his cards over. “Royal flush.”

I slowly lowered my cards and watched in horror as he took all the candy to his side of the table and then very annoyingly jerked his head at me. “Your pants or your bra, your choice.”

I shoved my chair back and stood, then gave him an apologetic smile. “Sorry, but”—I held up my hands—“it’s really hard to get undressed with all the gauze.”

“Yet you managed to get semi-dressed this morning and take your sweater off . . .”

I shrugged. “They’re throbbing like I have ten tiny heartbeats.”

“Okay.” He stood and faced me. “Then I guess I’ll have to help you.”

Not the direction I thought he’d take. If anything, I thought he’d toss some irritated words my way and stomp out of the room.

“Umm . . .”

He reached for me.

And idiot that I was.

I didn’t stop him.

His hands grazed my hips as he held my swaying body steady.

It had been too long, hadn’t it? Since I’d been touched, since I’d liked it.

Way too long.

And now my body was misfiring at the worst possible time with the worst possible person on the planet.

“Wh-what are you doing?” My voice was too breathless, my eyes couldn’t decide if they should focus on his eyes or his mouth, with its perfect sensual lips, that was inches away from my face.

He leaned in until our foreheads touched and whispered, “Winning.” Right before digging his fingers into my leggings and very slowly rolling them down until he reached my bare feet. He gently lifted each foot and pulled them completely off, leaving me standing there in my polka-dot bra and my hot-pink panties. Clearly I hadn’t been planning on being naked when I’d packed for this trip. Otherwise, I would have brought something that didn’t look like a preteen training bra.

Then again, what was I thinking?

I wasn’t ready for that.

For any of it.

It was too raw, too soon.

And again, he was too wrong.

“I’ll give these back on one condition.” He dangled the leggings in between our bodies.

“Oh, and what’s that?” I croaked and cleared my throat. “Because this is as naked as I get.”

“I wonder if that makes bedroom activities difficult.”

“A truly talented man would work with it,” I countered as his eyebrows shot up his forehead.

“I can’t decide if that’s a challenge or not . . .”

“Not,” I said helpfully.

He chuckled. “Fine, it’s going to sound stupid, but I’m going to ask anyway.”

“Now you have me worried,” I teased.

“Kiss me.” He said it so quietly I almost didn’t hear him. “Kiss me and I’ll make dinner and give you back your pants.”

“What?”

“A kiss, usually it’s two mouths, one soul—”

“I know what a kiss is. I’m just confused, why would you want to kiss me?”

“Let’s just call it an experiment. I haven’t really kissed anyone since I woke up feeling like a different man, and I want to see if everything on the outside feels the same as it does on the inside—changed.”