“Not wanting to hurt someone doesn’t mean you don’t have balls. Maybe it means you have the biggest balls.”
Hansley laughs.
After a while longer, I say, “So…” but trail off because I’m not sure where I’m going with that. I just feel like the silence is a little long, and he doesn’t feel any better. All I want is to make him feel better, though I have no idea how to do that. I probably can’t, but I desperately want to.
As if he knows what I’m asking, which is quite remarkable since I don’t know what I’m asking, he says, “I don’t have a plan. But logically, my first order of business should be finding myown place, so I can stop sleeping in Alka’s guest room before I wear out my welcome.”
I bristle immediately. My entire body tensing. “You’ve been staying at Alka’s?” I ask, attempting to keep my voice neutral.
He chuckles, his arms tightening around me. Clearly I didn’t succeed at neutral. “I have. You know he’s married, right? And has Roux too.”
“Yeah,” I grit out, though that doesn’t make me less… stiff.
“Are you jealous, Lemon?” he murmurs, his lips brushing along my neck.
I huff, refusing to answer.
“Why don’t you like Alka?”
“I just don’t,” I mutter.
“There must be a reason.”
“It could very well be a reason like the one where I didn’t like you,” I say hotly.
“You were attracted to him,” he says.
Scowling, I refuse to say anything. I’m not even going to correct him on the fact that’snotwhy I didn’t like him. I was just angry that his presence took my team’s money. And pissed that he was always one step ahead. That everyone just instantly liked him. That he was good at fuckingeverything.
He rolls us so I’m on my back, a big smile splitting his face. “That’s it, isn’t it?”
“No,” I growl and try to get away. He doesn’t let me. “But it doesn’t matter. I’m not his type, anyway. I’m not tall and fit and naturally pretty like he is. Like all those jerks are.” I think I mistakenly just admitted far more than I ever intended to. And now it’s out there. I can’t take it back. Fuck my life.
Hansley’s smile softens. “Queens are perfect, just as they are,” he says quietly.
I press my lips together, feeling exposed right now. I’m sure I’m a sloppy mess. My makeup is probably gross and smudgedand melting down my face from sweat. My hair is likely wild and untamed. I smell like sex and sweat. Let’s not even start on my body image!
“Do you know what my first thought was when I saw you without your clothes on just now?” he asks, and I can’t take a breath as I shake my head. “That you’re absolutely exquisite. Everything about you. The long lines of your toned legs.” He runs his fingers over my thigh, moving toward my hip. “The shapely planes of your stomach.” His fingers dip in my navel before trailing further up my torso. “Your sexy arms have so much power in them.” His lips press to one bicep.
I take a shaky breath.
“Your eyes are so beautiful that I’d love to look into them for as long as you let me. Your smile, on those rare occasions that I get to see a real one, is breathtaking. I am obsessed with your curls.” He lifts my hand and between us, twining our fingers together. Tears sting the corner of my eyes as I look at where our hands are connected. “Do not compare yourself to anyone else, Lemon. You’re right that you aren’t anything like them. Because you’re not supposed to be. You’re you, exactly as you should be, and stunning for it.”
My breath comes out wobbly as I look at him. “Stop saying nice things,” I whisper.
Hansley smiles, bringing his body down on mine. “You’re the only man I’ve ever been attracted to and as humbling and soft as your personality is, I know it’s not just that which drew me to you.”
I snort, which I know he was going for.
“It’s you,” he murmurs, pressing soft kisses to my skin. “All of you.”
He keeps my hand in his, pressing it to the mattress above my head as he kisses along my neck and collarbone, his other hand moving over my body. I get the distinct impression that histouch is worshiping. It’s difficult not to give into the tears that are trying to push out of me. I won’t cry. I don’t want to be that person who cries at compliments.
I also don’t want to be that guy who refuses to accept them. Even if I don’t necessarily believe them. Hansley is a nice guy. He is. He says nice guy things. But why does my heart keep racing like this? I’m going to have a heart attack.
I fumble blindly and scooch us until I can grip another condom. It’s not easy one handed, trying to get it out. Especially when he’s trying to jerk himself into my hand as I struggle to roll the condom down.
It’s another frustrating minute later before I finally find the lube and make a mess all over us because he sucks on my neck and I gasp, squeezing the lube so it spurts like a happy dick everywhere.
