Or so he kept telling himself, because, sitting there in his oversize shirt and pants, Abby was the sexiest thing he’d seen in his life.
“What are you doing, Abby?” he managed to ask. He hated the way her features fell in response. But they shouldn’t be doing this. She didn’t need to get embroiled with him; she needed to leave, to get far away. And Luc was not skilled enough in the ways of seduction to do this right—whatever this was. He’d only mess it up, the way he’d messed up every other time he’d been with a woman.
“I was…” She inhaled, maybe taking in a dose of courage, before she lifted her chin and went on. “I wanted to… I want to…”
“We shouldn’t.” He stood and took a couple steps back. She needed someone smooth and knowledgeable. Someone who’d take her out and show her the world. Not a man who’d rather do anything to avoid crowds.
Her shoulders squared up. “Why not?”
“I can’t kiss you again,” he said. He knew this, but he wasn’t happy about it.
“Because it’s a sin?”
He blinked, confused, and shook his head. “No, Abby—”
“Iwantto do it again. It’s wrong, I know that, but—”
“Of course it’s not wrong.” He paused, searching for words. “It’s just…you should do this with someone more…like you.”
“Like me? You mean sheltered and inexperienced? Or another sinner? Because people out here do things. I’ve seen ’em, even in public. It’s so…shameless. Maybe… Is kissing bad where you’re from?” Her words came out breathless, the consonants almost inaudible.
“Bad? You mean wrong?”
“Yes. Is it bad that I want to kiss you just because it feels good?”
He huffed disbelievingly. “No. No, that’s not bad.”
Luc strode to the steps, thinking he’d go up there and… What? Get himself off while she sat down here, expectant and waiting?
No, to the bathroom. A cold shower would clear his head. Or outside—yeah, he could go out into the snow and—
“I want to try more,” she interrupted. Jesus, why couldn’t he catch his breath?
“Not with me, Abby.”
“Oh. You don’t want me like that.”
“That is not what I mean. I mean you are…” He lifted his hands, trying to describe the perfection of someone so bright and crushingly lovely. “I mean I’ll ruin this. I’ll ruinyou.”
How was he supposed to explain the things that got him off, the images that crowded his brain? How could he tell a woman like her that he always liked the bounce of tits and the sight of his cock sinking in? That foreplay was a hand wrapped in hair, conversation, a nod, and a few grunts? He pictured trying to explain how far he was from a romantic. His fantasies… God, if she only knew. He had no idea how to keep his desire civilized enough for someone so innocent.
“I still don’t understand. If you want this, then why are you stopping?” she asked.
“Because I don’t want to hurt you, all right? Your back, but also your”—he made a pointless motion in her general direction—“your person. I’m not gentle, like you need. I’m not…slow and romantic. I don’t spout poetry or…ordance. Or doforeplay.” And then, because he needed to shock some sense into her, he said, “Ifuck, Abby. I fuck hard and fast. I do it forme. I’m a selfish lover because I’m no good at communicating, and I’ve never understoodhow. So, no.No, I’m not the man to introduce you to the pleasures of the flesh.”
He stood there breathing hard, wishing he could escape the soft accusation in her eyes.
“I’m sorry, Abby.” He looked away. “I need to sleep now. You should sleep upstairs in my…in the bed. Could you… Could we…”
Eyes downcast, she stood, her freckles lost in the blotchy wash of red that took over her pale, pale skin. His hand itched to touch it, but damn it, he wouldn’t be the one to break whatever seal of abstinence this woman had been brought up with. He’d let some other man do it—a man whose flowery tongue could ease his way.
The thought of tongues made him angry, while his prick ached in his pants. There was nothing to do but storm into the kitchen, petulant but righteous in his restraint. Another man would give in.
But not me.
“All right then. May I…” She motioned toward the bathroom, not meeting his eye.
“Yes, of course,” he said, feeling only slightly contrite as he went about the business of closing the house down for the night. He let the dog out, stuffed a couple more logs into the stove, all of it with the hot, guilty strain of his erection between his legs.
