Read Online About That Night by Beth Andrews - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Beth Andrews
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trying to get inside her head, see into her soul. As if he wanted to know her thoughts, feelings and secrets.
She’d chosen to share a few of those with him, but the rest were hers to keep.
Such as how hard it had been for her to come here, to knock on his door. How she wasn’t sure which had been a bigger mistake—refusing him earlier or changing her mind. How scared she was that he was going to send her on her way.
How she didn’t want to be alone tonight.
But he couldn’t know any of that. She kept her expression clear. Waited while he looked his fill, while he made up his mind.
“You’re trouble,” he finally said.
Tension burst out of her in a short laugh. That was his big revelation? “So I’ve been told. What’s wrong with a little trouble?”
He looked at her as though she’d asked what was wrong with a little nuclear war. “I don’t do trouble.”
But he was getting closer to it. Literally. Leaning forward, he wrapped his big hands around her upper arms. Pulled her gently toward him.
“No?” she asked softly, her heart racing.
He shook his head, his eyes dark with want. “I fix things. Make the trouble disappear.”
She’d noticed. Had watched him put out one small fire after another at the party, taking care of his parents, getting the busty blonde who’d been hitting on his brother to back off. Dancing with his niece when she pulled him onto the dance floor.
Ivy let her gaze drop to his mouth, linger there as she ran her tongue across her bottom lip. “Do you really want me to disappear?”
His fingers tightened, his nails digging into her skin. Though it killed her not to touch him, not to close the distance between them and press her mouth against his, she kept her hands in her lap. Stayed perfectly still. She’d meant it when she’d said the next move was his. He may not like playing games but he was participating willingly in this one. And far be it from her to take away the man’s belief that he had the upper hand.
As long as she was the one holding the best cards.
His hands slid up her arms slowly, across her shoulders. He stabbed his fingers into the hair at the nape of her neck, his thumbs nudging her chin up. Her mouth parted. Her breathing quickened.
He tugged her forward. Later, much later, she would worry about that. About how he’d turned the tables. How, instead of coming to her, he was bringing her to him. But for now, with his palms warm against her cheeks, all she could think about was his touch. His kiss.
His head came closer, his features blurring. She wanted to shut her eyes, to lose herself in sensations, but she couldn’t look away. He paused when their mouths were inches apart. The air surrounding them stilled. Thickened. All she could see was his face, all she could hear was the blood rushing in her ears.
All she wanted was him.
His breath washed over her, and she made a sound in the back of her throat that could only be described as needy. Dear Lord, he hadn’t even kissed her yet, and she was already acting like a fool, her brain fogged with desire. It was humiliating, needing him this much. It was dangerous, being this weak for a man. If Ivy wasn’t careful, she’d lose her good sense and her pride.
She couldn’t make herself care.
She lifted her hands to his chest, curled her fingers into his shirt and yanked him to her.
Yes , she thought as their mouths met. This was what she wanted. The flash of heat. The heady desire. His kiss was hard and hungry, his lips firm. Beneath her hands, he was solid. Warm. She’d expected finesse. Control. After all, he had both in spades. But what she got was an answer to her own desire, one that matched it. A heat that threatened to consume her.
His fingers tightened on her hair, the bite and tug ramping up her excitement as he tipped her head to the side to deepen the kiss. She slid her hands over the hard planes of his chest, up to his shoulders. Down his arms. He tasted of whiskey and smelled like
She’d chosen to share a few of those with him, but the rest were hers to keep.
Such as how hard it had been for her to come here, to knock on his door. How she wasn’t sure which had been a bigger mistake—refusing him earlier or changing her mind. How scared she was that he was going to send her on her way.
How she didn’t want to be alone tonight.
But he couldn’t know any of that. She kept her expression clear. Waited while he looked his fill, while he made up his mind.
“You’re trouble,” he finally said.
Tension burst out of her in a short laugh. That was his big revelation? “So I’ve been told. What’s wrong with a little trouble?”
He looked at her as though she’d asked what was wrong with a little nuclear war. “I don’t do trouble.”
But he was getting closer to it. Literally. Leaning forward, he wrapped his big hands around her upper arms. Pulled her gently toward him.
“No?” she asked softly, her heart racing.
He shook his head, his eyes dark with want. “I fix things. Make the trouble disappear.”
She’d noticed. Had watched him put out one small fire after another at the party, taking care of his parents, getting the busty blonde who’d been hitting on his brother to back off. Dancing with his niece when she pulled him onto the dance floor.
Ivy let her gaze drop to his mouth, linger there as she ran her tongue across her bottom lip. “Do you really want me to disappear?”
His fingers tightened, his nails digging into her skin. Though it killed her not to touch him, not to close the distance between them and press her mouth against his, she kept her hands in her lap. Stayed perfectly still. She’d meant it when she’d said the next move was his. He may not like playing games but he was participating willingly in this one. And far be it from her to take away the man’s belief that he had the upper hand.
As long as she was the one holding the best cards.
His hands slid up her arms slowly, across her shoulders. He stabbed his fingers into the hair at the nape of her neck, his thumbs nudging her chin up. Her mouth parted. Her breathing quickened.
He tugged her forward. Later, much later, she would worry about that. About how he’d turned the tables. How, instead of coming to her, he was bringing her to him. But for now, with his palms warm against her cheeks, all she could think about was his touch. His kiss.
His head came closer, his features blurring. She wanted to shut her eyes, to lose herself in sensations, but she couldn’t look away. He paused when their mouths were inches apart. The air surrounding them stilled. Thickened. All she could see was his face, all she could hear was the blood rushing in her ears.
All she wanted was him.
His breath washed over her, and she made a sound in the back of her throat that could only be described as needy. Dear Lord, he hadn’t even kissed her yet, and she was already acting like a fool, her brain fogged with desire. It was humiliating, needing him this much. It was dangerous, being this weak for a man. If Ivy wasn’t careful, she’d lose her good sense and her pride.
She couldn’t make herself care.
She lifted her hands to his chest, curled her fingers into his shirt and yanked him to her.
Yes , she thought as their mouths met. This was what she wanted. The flash of heat. The heady desire. His kiss was hard and hungry, his lips firm. Beneath her hands, he was solid. Warm. She’d expected finesse. Control. After all, he had both in spades. But what she got was an answer to her own desire, one that matched it. A heat that threatened to consume her.
His fingers tightened on her hair, the bite and tug ramping up her excitement as he tipped her head to the side to deepen the kiss. She slid her hands over the hard planes of his chest, up to his shoulders. Down his arms. He tasted of whiskey and smelled like
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