Read Online Tempting Sydney by Angela Corbett - Free Book Online Page B

eventually hit his waist. I breathed a sigh of relief when I realized he wasn’t birthday-suit ready. He was wearing black athletic shorts that hung to his knees. A band of grey—boxers or briefs?—peeked out under his shorts. I wasn’t sure whether to be relieved at his lack of nudity, or disappointed…I was a little of both.
    Still, he was half-naked—shorts and socks were all that remained. And he was sooooo freaking hot! He had the body of someone who spent all their free time running Spartan Races. Every part of him was toned, sculpted, and huge—Every. Single. Part. I had to mentally slap myself to force my eyes away from the lower half of his body. On a scale of one to five, I was at drool-threat level six. The important thing was to not let him know that, though. Better-than-a-werewolf had a big enough ego as it was. “Boxers, huh?” I said, taking a guess at his underwear preference.
    He raised a brow. “How do you know I’m wearing anything at all?”
    I raised mine back. “You go commando often?”
    He slid his index fingers between the cloth of his shorts and his tight, toned skin. He started to tug down. “Wanna find out?”
    The devil on my left shoulder was screaming: Yes, please! Luckily, the angel on my right shoulder was exceedingly boring with far more sense. The angel reasoned that if seeing Jax fully clothed made me want to hump him like a bunny and to hell with graduating at the top of my class, then seeing Jax naked would be trouble. Lots and lots of trouble. I agreed. “I’m good, thanks.” I pointed to his waist. “Plus, you’re not hiding it very well.”
    He looked down, noticing how much of his underclothes he was already showing me, and flashed an unapologetic grin. He watched me for several moments before leaning against his bed. “How many men have you been with, Syd?”
    I felt like I’d just been hit with verbal whiplash—again. It seemed to happen frequently with Jax. “Excuse me?” I said, completely affronted.
    He reached down to pick up his socks on the floor and throw them into the square laundry basket next to the wall. I was so pissed, I didn’t even really notice how the muscles in his arms, shoulders, back and abs moved with tightly honed, perfect fluidity. Really. I didn’t. “Come on,” he said, straightening back up. “I’ll tell you my number; you tell me yours.”
    “Absolutely not.”
    “Why? Embarrassed?”
    “No! But the only way that would be your business is if we were in relationship. We’re not. So screw you.”
    “We could be.”
    I blinked in shock. “No!” A relationship? We hadn’t even been on a date, what was he talking about? Though the thought sent a flutter through my stomach that met the flutter already percolating a bit lower thanks to Jax’s lack of clothes. “We couldn’t do that,” I said, flushed and off-kilter. I was not prepared for this decision yet.
    “Why?”
    “Because I’m not ready for a relationship right now. And from what I can tell, neither are you.”
    He eyed me. “I guess it depends on what your definition of ‘relationship’ is.”
    “Mutual love, respect, and quality time. Passion, friendship, intimacy, common interests. Caring about each other, being there for one another. I thought those were all pretty common relationship themes.”
    “Every relationship is different. Some people just want to have fun.”
    “I’m guessing that’s you.”
    “If you go into it with expectations already set, no one gets hurt.”
    I snorted. “Right. I’m sure you have a lot of experience with this. Maybe you can shut your emotions off and screw anything that moves, but I can’t.”
    His eyes hardened ever so slightly. “I didn’t say that was my definition. I said it was a definition. You wouldn’t even answer my question about how many men you’ve been with. You’re uncomfortable with the thought of opening up and relying on someone else. It seems like you’re the one who can’t handle a