He grunted, pushing past her again and heading downstairs or outside or somewhere, probably to go and find wood.
By the time she’d gathered all the bedding, Brock had returned and was crouched down next to the open hearth in the living room, blowing on flickering embers. Within seconds, larger flames began to dance, and soon it was beautiful orange and red wings of warmth pirouetting along the logs.
Krista let out a contented sigh. The cold that had seemed to embed itself in her very marrow once the adrenaline had worn off finally showed signs of receding.
“Go shower,” he said with a grunt, not bothering to look at her. “Warm up, and the fire will be ready when you’re out.”
She pouted at his back but did as she was told, hoping that he’d join her and they could continue on with the romance from out in the driveway. But alas,no. She was forced to shower alone and scrub her own back.
Emerging a short while later in plaid flannel pants, a big oversize gray hoodie, her fuzzy green and pink cat socks and a French braid down her back, she found Brock in the kitchen with the sound of a kettle boiling. The fire was roaring, and the bedding had all been made.
Krista wandered over to the fire and sat down on the floor, bringing the covers up over her legs. She watched the flames dance, twirl and crackle, burning the once red-hued logs to a dark black.
“Tea?” he asked, making her jump out of her skin.
The man was like a ninja when he wanted to be, all stealth and silence. And then at other times, his big gladiator body stomped around the house and creaked on the stairs as if he were a giant toddler, adding to the paradox that was Brock Hart. A tough nut to crack, a hard man to get to know. Her hard Hart.
But she was determined to get to know him. Each and every time they were together, whether it be sitting on the couch watching a renovation show and eating a stir-fry or rolling around in his bed like sweaty teenagers, she thought she saw a new side of him. But the man was proving to be one of those dodecahedron things, multi-sided and endlessly complicated.
“Tea?” he grunted again, nudging her back with his shin this time.
“Oh, um, sure. Thanks,” she said, shaking her head, letting the confusing thoughts rattle around and then slowly disappear.
He crouched down and handed her a steaming cup of what smelled like Sleepytime tea.
“You care to join me?” she asked, patting the empty space in the bedding beside her. “Plenty of room for two.”
A slow and intriguing smile curved his lips, and in a moment, Brock’s shirt and sweater were off and his pants soon followed, leaving him in nothing but those sexy black boxer briefs. He wasn’t hard, but the line of his cock was hard to miss. Her man was hung.
Blowing the steam off her tea, Krista ran her tongue along the seam of herlips, eyeing Brock like he was a choice cut of meat she just couldn’t wait to sink her teeth into.
“Tongue back in your mouth.” His voice was low and gritty. A hunger echoed in those words, one of demand, one that met her own. He slipped in beside her.
Rather than punch him in the shoulder and tell him to shut up for his smart-ass response, she couldn’t. She was on fire. Pushing the covers off her and quickly standing up, Krista began to undress. The fire, the tea, the flannel and hoodie, all combined with the insane heat radiating off the man beside her, and suddenly her whole body burned.
“You don’t waste any time, do you?” he asked, a hint of humor to his tone.
She threw her hoodie onto the couch. “Shut up. I’m boiling.” Next came the pants, then the socks, until she was in nothing but her underwear and a black tank top.
She stepped over his body before sinking back down into the covers. The whole time, their eyes remained locked. He watched her. She watched him. It was hard to tell who was the prey and who was the hunter at this point. Need and hunger seemed to percolate around both of them as pheromones bounced off the walls and the sexual tension grew thick and heady.
A low growl rumbled from the back of his throat, dark and dripping with promise. His green eyes glowed fierce and bright in the firelight, but as each moment passed, the pupils grew bigger and darker.
But she needed to find out more about Brock. That kiss outside had made those feelings she’d been having for him rachet up several notches, and her whole body had sparked alive in his arms. He was more than just a roommate. He was more than just the father of her child. He was more than just a lover. He was the man she was falling for, and she needed to learn more about him. She needed to learn everything.
The sex could wait.
Or could the talking wait?
Her nipples pebbled beneath her tank top, and her entire core clenched.
Her body certainly didn’t want to wait.
But if they had sex now, he might just roll over and go to sleep after. Then when would they talk? She had him here by the fire. They’d just shared a romantic moment outside. Maybe he would be open to talking, open to sharing.
“Awful lot of thinking going on in that sexy brain of yours,” he said, lifting one dark eyebrow.
Krista’s lips twisted into a half smile as she grabbed her mug of tea and brought it beneath her nose.
