“Definitelyew,” he echoes. “But even if I wasn’t terrified to get into my own bed at night, I wasn’t sleeping with a bunch of girls because I like to get to know a woman before I sleep with her. Finding her hot isn’t enough. There has to be a connection, and I have to want more than just sex with her.”
My shoulders slump in relief. “Oh, that’s good.”
He gives me a thoughtful look. “Was there a reason you were down here wearing those gray shorts that you haven’t worn since I pinned you against this counter?”
I was hoping he would ask me that exact question, but I was dreading it at the same time. Now I have to say something I’ve rehearsed in the bathroom mirror four times, and I can’t stop envisioning Hunter laughing in my face because it sounds utterly ridiculous. And embarrassing. So, so embarrassing.
“What makes you think I haven’t worn it since then?” I ask, delaying the inevitable.
“You in those shorts have featured in every single dirty dream I’ve had since I saw you in them. If you honestly think I’m not down here thesecondI hear you moving around, hoping I won’t see you in them again, you must be crazy.” He admits it openly, without hesitation, and right to my face. Not a hint of blush anywhere.
My lips tilt up in a smile.
“What?” he asks, softening his gaze.
“I love that about you.”
His brow lifts. “My dirty mind?”
My smile grows. “How open you are about wanting me. And about showing how you feel.”
“Too open,” he mutters. “You should’ve seen the death glare Knox was shooting my chopping board.”
“I wore it for you,” I blurt out.
His smile freezes, and he gulps. “You what now?”
“I wore the shorts for you. I thought I would hear you walk down the stairs, but I didn’t.”
He crowds me, his eyes flicking from mine to my mouth. “And what would you have done if you’d heard me walking down the stairs?” he asks, his voice husky.
Hoped for something similar to what happened last time. Except he wouldn’t have been coming in his shorts. He’d have been coming inside me.
I lift my shoulder in a shrug, hoping it looks casual as my heart hammers against my chest. “I don’t know. Maybe bendover the counter or drop something as you walked into the kitchen. You seemed to like it when I did it before.”
He closes his eyes. “Jesus, Maisie.”
“What?” I ask, alarmed. “Would bending over have been the wrong thing to do?”
He takes a step away from me and looks around. “Do you have a pie in the oven?”
I blink up at him, confused by the sharp turn this conversation has taken. “Uh, no, why?”
I’ve spent the last few minutes hanging around, trying to look busy, hoping Hunter would come down the stairs and we’d have a repeat of what happened last time I wore these gray shorts.
A split second later, I’m over his shoulder and he’s striding out of the kitchen and up the stairs. “We need to continue this conversation in my room.”
I smile as I hang upside down on his back. “What part? Me bending over or what you would have done to me if you’d found me like that?”
He swats my ass, and as I yelp, he’s already following the tap with a caress that makes me moan. “No more talk of you bending over until I have you in my room.”
I’m grinning as he carries me into his room and lays me down on his bed. I give his room a quick scan. The walls are blue, and the furniture is a rich mahogany brown. The major thing that sets his bedroom apart is the surfboard with a green leaf pattern leaning against the wall beside his closet. “I thought you went back to Malibu to surf.”
He glances at the surfboard. “That was one of my first boards, and I love it too much to leave it in my parents' garage. It’s not good for surfing anymore, but I like it as decoration.” He narrows dark blue eyes at me. “But enough about that. You had plans for me in the kitchen.”
“Tell me about one of your dirty dreams,” I say instead.
He snorts. “So you can get up and walk out of here?” He mimes zipping his mouth shut and tossing the key over his shoulder.
