wanted his next breath, but it was just so damn wrong, for a whole host of reasons.
He pinned her with his stare. “You know what I’m talking about.”
“No, I’m not sure I do . . .” She shook her head even as something in her eyes changed and warmed. She wet her lips with her tongue.
Clearly she knew exactly what he was talking about. He gave up fighting and pulled her against him before he had a chance to think or she had a chance to say anything else outrageous.
Leaning down to press his lips against hers, he wasn’t surprised to discover that she tasted even better than he remembered. She felt better, too, all soft curves and smooth skin. He ran his hands up and down her arms before sliding his palms down her back, across her ass and lower. The shock of feeling those warm curves had him pulling back for a millisecond before diving in again. Kissing Sassy was madness, and right now he wanted to do more than just kiss her, because after a moment’s hesitation, she was kissing him back.
Her tongue was in his mouth, and her hands were on his shoulders, his waist, and then his hips. Slowly the two of them inched across the room toward the wall. He looked down, reaching for the hem of her nightshirt, and spied the bandage on the side of her neck from the attack in Constantine.
His hand stilled on her leg. It was like having a bucket of ice water dumped on his head, and a sudden semblance of sanity returned. As much as he wanted her, this was a fucking bad idea. He was not doing this. Not with Trey’s little sister. Not here, not now.
He wasn’t that big an ass. At least he sure as hell hoped not. He took a deep, steadying breath, and instead of lifting the nightshirt, he smoothed it out over her hip and put one hand at her waist as he eased away from her.
The expression in her eyes was slightly dazed, but then it filled with the same look he’d seen in Constantine two days ago. Fear flashed in her widened gaze for an instant, then vanished so fast that if he hadn’t been staring into her face, he would have missed it. She pushed against his chest, and he immediately pulled back, dropping his hands to his sides.
Had something happened to her on that trek across the Sahara that he didn’t know about? Or had he done something himself just now that scared her? His imagination raced down various unsavory paths.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
She wouldn’t look up at him. “Nothing,” she muttered. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” She lifted her chin defiantly, but when she took another step backward into the wall, her panicked eyes met his.
He stepped away to give her space. Something big was going on here.
“Don’t worry, Sassy, we’re not doing this. And despite what just happened, I’m not going to force myself on you. I’d be a real dick—”
Dammit. He should just give up trying not to curse around her. “What I mean is that I’d be a real jerk if I slept with you and then turned around and left you in Mississippi with everything that’s happening. I won’t do that.”
She was looking down again, so he couldn’t tell what she was thinking. It was probably too much to hope that she was smiling. Over the past six months it had seemed to amuse her that she was able to make him cuss when other women couldn’t.
He kept talking in an attempt to put her at ease, but he had the distinct feeling he was babbling. “I want you, I think you know that. And yeah, I may need to go take a cold shower, but that’s my problem, not yours.”
She looked up at him then, but her eyes were shuttered, giving nothing away. “Thank you,” she mumbled and turned.
Well, shit. She wasn’t going to tell him anything.
He was standing there, hard as nails, staring at her back, and there was nothing to do but go into the bathroom and turn the cold water on. After checking that the door to the hotel room was locked, he left her to do just that.
He shut the door to the bathroom softly, even though
He pinned her with his stare. “You know what I’m talking about.”
“No, I’m not sure I do . . .” She shook her head even as something in her eyes changed and warmed. She wet her lips with her tongue.
Clearly she knew exactly what he was talking about. He gave up fighting and pulled her against him before he had a chance to think or she had a chance to say anything else outrageous.
Leaning down to press his lips against hers, he wasn’t surprised to discover that she tasted even better than he remembered. She felt better, too, all soft curves and smooth skin. He ran his hands up and down her arms before sliding his palms down her back, across her ass and lower. The shock of feeling those warm curves had him pulling back for a millisecond before diving in again. Kissing Sassy was madness, and right now he wanted to do more than just kiss her, because after a moment’s hesitation, she was kissing him back.
Her tongue was in his mouth, and her hands were on his shoulders, his waist, and then his hips. Slowly the two of them inched across the room toward the wall. He looked down, reaching for the hem of her nightshirt, and spied the bandage on the side of her neck from the attack in Constantine.
His hand stilled on her leg. It was like having a bucket of ice water dumped on his head, and a sudden semblance of sanity returned. As much as he wanted her, this was a fucking bad idea. He was not doing this. Not with Trey’s little sister. Not here, not now.
He wasn’t that big an ass. At least he sure as hell hoped not. He took a deep, steadying breath, and instead of lifting the nightshirt, he smoothed it out over her hip and put one hand at her waist as he eased away from her.
The expression in her eyes was slightly dazed, but then it filled with the same look he’d seen in Constantine two days ago. Fear flashed in her widened gaze for an instant, then vanished so fast that if he hadn’t been staring into her face, he would have missed it. She pushed against his chest, and he immediately pulled back, dropping his hands to his sides.
Had something happened to her on that trek across the Sahara that he didn’t know about? Or had he done something himself just now that scared her? His imagination raced down various unsavory paths.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
She wouldn’t look up at him. “Nothing,” she muttered. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” She lifted her chin defiantly, but when she took another step backward into the wall, her panicked eyes met his.
He stepped away to give her space. Something big was going on here.
“Don’t worry, Sassy, we’re not doing this. And despite what just happened, I’m not going to force myself on you. I’d be a real dick—”
Dammit. He should just give up trying not to curse around her. “What I mean is that I’d be a real jerk if I slept with you and then turned around and left you in Mississippi with everything that’s happening. I won’t do that.”
She was looking down again, so he couldn’t tell what she was thinking. It was probably too much to hope that she was smiling. Over the past six months it had seemed to amuse her that she was able to make him cuss when other women couldn’t.
He kept talking in an attempt to put her at ease, but he had the distinct feeling he was babbling. “I want you, I think you know that. And yeah, I may need to go take a cold shower, but that’s my problem, not yours.”
She looked up at him then, but her eyes were shuttered, giving nothing away. “Thank you,” she mumbled and turned.
Well, shit. She wasn’t going to tell him anything.
He was standing there, hard as nails, staring at her back, and there was nothing to do but go into the bathroom and turn the cold water on. After checking that the door to the hotel room was locked, he left her to do just that.
He shut the door to the bathroom softly, even though
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