But every time Landon got close to me, my body responded in ways that had nothing to do with science and everything to do with lust. He just turned me on. There was no commitment between us. How could there be? We’d known each other for a whopping three days and his days in Seattle were numbered. Sure, this thing between us couldgrowinto a relationship, but it would be long-distance with sporadic in-person visits.
It probably wouldn’t last.
And, although I’d told him I didn’t do casual sex (or any sex, really), the man had me reconsidering my position on the matter. I couldn’t deny the attraction I felt to him. The instant his lips had landed on mine, my brain short circuited and my libido took over. If we hadn’t been interrupted, I had no doubt I would have let him go as far as he wanted.
No,Iwould have wanted us to go all the way.
The idea startled me. Then it worried me for a whole different reason. Landon was pulling paper cartons out of a plastic bag and lining them up on my bar. Watching him—and appreciating the way his biceps bulged with every move—I blurted out, “I’m going to go take a shower.”
He looked up at me, pausing in his food display task. “But what about dinner?”
“I’m not really hungry right now. Maybe later?”
His gaze went from me to the food, and then back to me. Then his eyebrows shot up his forehead. “Are you okay, Mercy?”
“Yes. It’s just been a long day and I could really use some hot water to work out the kinks in my neck.”
“I could give you a massage,” he suggested. Then his face screwed up like he was angry at himself for suggesting it. “A platonic, healing massage. I didn’t mean anything sexual by that.”
If I let him put his hands anywhere near me, I was done for. And there were things I needed to take care of first. “Thanks, but I’m good.” I turned and dashed down the hallway before he could say more.
Grabbing a pair of pajama bottoms and a tank top from my room, I hurried into the bathroom and locked the door. Then I stripped out of my work clothes and climbed into the shower. As water cascaded over my head, I took a gander at my real reason for escaping from Landon, unsurprised to see that it was even worse than I’d expected.
I hadn’t had a boyfriend in more than a year, and I’d let things get a little out of control downstairs. Some women had a landing strip, I had more of an overgrown airfield. Thank God Landon hadn’t put his hand down my pants; he might have gotten it stuck and been grounded for good.
And then I’d be left high and dry.
Wax would never do, even if I had any. No, clearing away this much pubic hair called for a match and a controlled burn. But since I didn’t want to set off the building’s sprinklers (or end up in the hospital), I grabbed my razor and went to work. While I lathered and shaved, I thought about Landon. Knowing he’d only be in town for a month, I’d been determined to protect my heart from him. But now, that didn’t seem so important. I was lonely, he was lonely, I needed a distraction from the fact I could have been shot today, and he needed a little healing of his own.
We could help each other.
Besides, the scientific part of my brain was all too curious about what sex would be like with someone I was so attracted to. Would it be all passion and power? Or would it be sweet and loving? Would he help me finally understand what the big deal was? Would he help me find that fabled “release”?
Washing between my legs, I grazed my folds and was surprised by how sensitive they were. Just thinking about getting it on with Landon was doing a number on my body. So, I got out of the shower and dried myself off, freshly shaved and all too ready to pick up where we’d left off.
