Or blame it on me, she thought as she inhaled deeply, sucking his scent all the way down into her toes before…
She did it.
The thing she’d been dreaming of doing since the moment she reclaimed the part of herself Eddy Torres had taken. She opened her mouth over the hot skin of his neck, over the pulse that beat strong and steady, and flicked out her tongue to taste him.
Hot and dark. Sweet and savory. The flavor of him hit her tongue with the eye-crossing joy of melted sugar.
The hand that had been smoothing her hair stilled. But his heart raced against the tip of her tongue. And the low growl at the back of his throat seemed to reverberate in the achy spot between her legs, making her keenly aware of its emptiness.
“Sabrina.” He spoke her name like a warning.
But who was he trying to caution? Her? Or himself?
Definitely me, she decided, regaining her senses and realizing the unambiguous boundary she’d crossed.
He’d been very clear about what he felt for her. And what he didn’t.
Shame at having taken advantage of his comfort rolled through her, burning and bright.
What are you doing? A voice of reason screamed in her head. Do you want to ruin everything you’ve found here at BKI? The trust and friendship you’ve built with Hew?
Her heart suddenly felt fiery and full, a hot air balloon threatening to rise out of her chest.
You fool!
You idiot!
You absolute asshole!
She pulled her mouth from his throat and jumped up with a blurted, “Sorry! I have to pee.”
“Uh…”
She didn’t look back as she raced for the bathroom. But she knew he stood from the bed. She heard the mattress springs squeak.
“Sabrina.” He said her name with such softness, in that Mainer accent that would always bring to mind lobster boats, winter boots, and maple syrup.
She was almost to the door of her ensuite, almost to freedom. But she forced herself to turn and face him.
She’d already proven she was a boundary-crossing jerk. She couldn’t add coward to the list of her sins.
She blinked in astonishment when she realized he’d followed her across the room. The man could move with a quiet precision that was disconcerting to the layperson. And when she tilted her chin back to look at him, she found the light that always lived in his eyes had flared into a flame.
She quickly dropped her gaze to that delicious divot in his throat. She couldn’t stand to look at him directly.
It was like looking at the sun. He was too bright. Too beautiful.
“I’m hungry,” she whispered hoarsely, grabbing the first thing she could think of to distract him from what she’d just done. “Do you think Eliza baked this morning?”
She felt his hesitation more than she saw it. Then she saw it when he slipped his fingers into his hip pockets and rocked back on his heels.
Holding her breath, she waited for him to call her out for the line she’d crossed. Waited for him to say out loud what he’d been silently saying for months.
She blew out a shaky breath when, instead, he took pity on her and said only, “Want me to run down and check?”
“Would you? I need sustenance before I face everyone.”
She chanced a glance at his face and saw the speculation in his eyes. There were questions there. Questions she wasn’t ready to answer. Thankfully, in the end, he didn’t push.
