She rolls her eyes, and a soft chuckle escapes me.
“There have been some women. But none have ever come here. And I’ve never read poetry to anyone in my life.”
“Oh.”
“I’ll always be honest with you, Hallie,” I promise, noting the way she’s chewing her lower lip.
I place the book on the cushion beside me and lift her feet into my lap, my hand encasing one slender ankle.
“After what happened with Lavinia, I thought maybe I was broken. So I went out with other women. Took them to bed even. But I couldn’t ever…” I run my free hand around my jaw with a quiet curse. “The thought of looking into their eyes and letting go just… I couldn’t ever get that far.”
“You don’t have to explain.”
I look into her open, trusting gaze. Admitting that I’ve had sex with beautiful women but been unable to finish isn’t as hard to admit as I thought it would be. Maybe it’s a deep-rooted issue from Elaina cheating on me. I have no problem getting hard. No problem fucking… just a problem getting over that finish line, unless I’m alone.
“In the end, I stopped trying to date altogether. Until Sinclair told me she bought me a gift.”
“Me.” Hallie smiles weakly as I skate my hand over her ankle, caressing her skin.
“You.”
I press my thumb deeper, massaging the arch of her foot. Her lips part with a contented sigh and she shifts position, giving me easier access.
“I should go soon,” she breathes.
I rub deeper, committing the way her lashes flutter with pleasure to my memory.
A deep chime over the built-in speaker system rings out, announcing a visitor. Whoever it is, the doorman must have recognized and let in, because the chime is the one for the penthouse door.
Hallie tugs her feet from my lap and straightens.
“Are you going to get that?”
“I’ll be back in a minute.”
I make my way down the hallway to the door. It’s eleven o’clock. Not wildly late. But late enough that my heart races and my thoughts jump to Sinclair, Sullivan, and Molly.
Sullivan took Molly home after dinner. And Sinclair went to sleep over at Zoey’s place. They both insisted that’s what they wanted after we all finished dinner. Sullivan would have called if Molly was ill. And Denver took Sinclair to Zoey’s. He would have told me if there was a problem.
I check the spyhole before opening the door.
“Lavinia?” I frown.
“Hi Sterling. I was just thinking about things, and I thought maybe you’d like someone to talk to tonight?” She holds up a bottle of wine.
I stare at her in her tightly wrapped coat, her nose pink on the end from the evening air.
“You thought I’d like company?”
She pouts, heat swimming in her gaze. “Mm-hm. Can I come in?”
My frown deepens. “I… was about to go to bed. It’s late.”
I realize my mistake the moment Lavinia’s brows rise like I’ve issued an invitation.
“I knew you wanted more,” she gushes, stepping forward and reaching for me.
She curls her hand around the back of my neck in an attempt to guide my mouth to hers.
