Read Online All I Need (Hearts of the South) by Linda Winfree - Free Book Online Page A

further. “Excuse me?”
    “This.” He gestured between them. “It’s not…something’s off.”
    She picked up a pair of lacy panties in a pale blue and pulled them on before retreating to the end of the couch, arms over her chest and her whole body walling him out. “I thought you wanted this.”
    “I did. I do.” He couldn’t quite articulate what was off, and his sex-fogged brain didn’t want to cooperate in processing the experience. “Only differently. Maybe it’s too soon.”
    She slipped off the couch, her movements jerky. “I’m going home.”
    He rose, wincing when he forgot to leverage with the stronger leg. “Wait.”
    “No.” She held up both hands, palms facing him, and shook her head.
    “Savannah.” He zipped his shorts to keep them from falling about his ankles. She snatched up her phone and keys. “Let’s talk about this.”
    “There’s nothing to talk about.” Her tight voice held a hint of desperation. “It didn’t work.”
    “So you’re just going to walk out?”
    “I am.” She was already at the door. “Good night, Emmett.”
    The door snicked closed and he swore. What the hell had happened?
    Emmett stared at the closed door and bit back every foul word he knew. Confusion reigned, snarling his mind and gut into matching knots. How had the touching and teasing, that kiss, turned into the worst sex of his life?
    And, damn it all, he needed another shower.
    In the bathroom, he tossed his clothes in the hamper with more force than necessary. He stripped off the condom and dropped it in the waste can, then stared at himself in the mirror while the shower heated. None of it made sense.
    He ducked under the steaming spray and let the hot water work on the tension in his neck and shoulders. Maybe if he’d taken the time to touch her the way he’d really wanted, to discover the curves of her breasts, the indention of her waist, the smooth skin of her thighs and the secrets between them. He passed a hand over his head. Maybe if he’d had a chance to touch her the way she’d touched him—
    She hadn’t wanted him to touch her.
    He scowled. Did that add up, when her hands had been all over him in the kitchen? She’d been touching him from the time she arrived, right up until she’d taken him. He’d thought the caresses had been about wanting him, but hell, maybe it was really about wanting the act.
    Which completely explained the cold, clinical feel.
    The frustrated desire and confusion flared into a spurt of hot anger. He didn’t like being used. Being friends and planning to sleep together was one thing. This was something else entirely.

Chapter Four
    Oh, that had ended well.
    Savannah fought off an urge to slam her door and made herself close it as carefully as she had Emmett’s. She dropped her keys and phone on the bench by the door and strode through to her bedroom, straight to the closet. She stripped off her dress and dropped it on the closet floor. Her panties followed, tossed toward the hamper along the bedroom wall. Anxiety fluttered in her chest and throat, and her stomach twisted.
    She pulled on her red tank suit and snatched a towel from the stack on a shelf in the bathroom. Thankfully, when she stepped outside, his door and blinds remained closed, the Adirondack empty. She really didn’t want to face him.
    Rough asphalt under her bare feet held on to some of the day’s warmth, and the gate to the swimming pool clanked in the quiet night. She went to the deep end and dove in. The cold water closed over her head, and she fell into strong, rhythmic strokes that didn’t match her tangled thoughts.
    What had gone wrong? The whole evening had proceeded as planned. Cooking had provided multiple opportunities to touch him, and he’d been receptive to her. Ultimately, he’d been eager for her. At the shallow end, she touched the wall and turned. She’d kept herself under total control, emotions locked down. Without the emotional intimacy she didn’t want anyway,