Sophie’s resolve hardened; she wouldn’t let him retreat. “Maybe the right man is someone who doesn’t think he’s right but is willing to try and figure out a path forward, for the right reasons.”
Stone’s face softened, the hint of a smile playing on his lips. “Even if I were the kind of guy who would do that, we’ve established that I’m not your type.”
Her heart fluttered at his words, the possibility ofwhat could besuddenly seeming within reach. “Not completely true. If you recall, I told you that in my fantasies you’re exactly my type of man.”
“And what book boyfriend trope do heroes with tragic backstory fall under?”
“Any of them.”
“Why would a generic hero with no trope be your fantasy choice?”
Heat filled her cheeks, but she didn’t shy away from responding truthfully. “Because heroes with tragic backstory are often excellent dirty talkers.”
“What I hear you saying is you fantasize about men like me—not because we’re perfect for you—but because in real life you’ve never had a man tell you, ‘Get down on your knees and—'”
“I’m not going to apologize for what turns me on,” she snapped.
“Nor should you. But the ability to talk dirty to a woman isn’t something one builds a forever relationship upon. It’s more of a torrid fling asset. Which I’m—”
“Can I kiss you?” she interrupted before he said something that ruined her mood. “You see, before I woke up, I had a dream that my mom was talking to me about how conflicted I am where you’re concerned. And in my dream, she said I’d know you’re the right guy if you bend your rules for me and for me alone. I figure a kiss is the biggest rule I can get you to bend right now.”
Stone’s smile turned tender, genuine. “We’ve already bent that rule, or did you forget?”
“Yes, but I want to bend it here, where no one is watching, and it’s being bent for discovery purposes that I hold very dear. You’d be doing me a huge favor.”
He groaned. “Has any man ever managed to tell you no while looking at you freshly awake after a night spent in your bed?”
“Nope,” she said with as much assurance as she could manage considering he was the first she’d ever asked a special favor of.
“We haven’t even brushed our teeth,” he said.
She reached around and opened the top drawer of her bedside table and pulled out a pack of Listerine breath strips. She snapped open the container, pulled three out, handed them tohim, and then plopped three in her mouth. “A professional daydreamer is always prepared,” she quipped. “Now, can we kiss?”
“I can’t see the harm in kissing you one more time… If it means that much to you.”
“You’re the best.” She scrambled onto her knees and leaned across him, lowering her face until their lips touched. And before she could decide tongue or no tongue, he yanked her down and deepened the kiss.
Sparks and heat consumed her. Like her skin was alive with magic. She shuddered at the sensation.
There was tongue.
When she was certain her pulse couldn’t beat any wilder, he growled against her mouth and fisted his hand in her hair. Who knew a girl’s pulse could push into that gear?
The kiss exceeded even her wildest hopes. The fierce, desperate vibes of this might-be-our-last-so-let’s-make-it-a-good-one were off the chart.
She was so lost in all the new sensations kissing him presented, she didn’t notice he’d shifted until he was suddenly on top.
His lips left hers to drop soft kisses on her forehead, her eyelids, her cheeks.
“Stone, I—”
“Don’t say it,” he growled and captured her lips again, preventing her from speaking.
She arched into him, grinding against his erection.
He stilled, moved his lips to her ear and spoke. “Don’t.”
In that moment, Sophie’s spinning brain told her two things. One, she felt safe in his arms. Two, she wanted them both naked. “But I want to,” she practically whined.
