It took her lust-addled brain a fraction of a second to realize he was pulling away from her, letting go of her thigh and shifting from between her legs. He didn’t step away, but he stopped kissing her and rested his forehead against hers.
“We need to stop.”
“Why?” She knew he wanted her. The evidence had been wedged between her legs moments earlier. It had to be some kind of crisis of conscience, which was just going to piss her off.
“I’m supposed to be looking after you, not taking advantage of you when you’re vulnerable.”
He could start looking after her by giving her a couple of orgasms and showing her everything he knew about sex. She opened her mouth to lead with that and then remembered the man had been willing to shield her body with his when the bullets were flying around them. She could take the time to ease him into the idea.
“I’m not an invalid. I know what I want.” She pitched her voice low and said the words slowly so they didn’t come out as a needy whine. Nothing sexy about that.
“It’s the adrenaline. It makes everyone react differently. Some people want sex.”
“Everyone wants sex,” she said, trying and losing the battle to hold on to her patience. But honestly, she finally found a man who could turn her on and he had some kind of crazy savior complex. “It’s not the adrenaline. It’s the way your hands feel on my body, the way your lips fit against mine. You can lie and say you don’t feel it, but we both know that’s not true.” She closed the distance between them again, fitting her body to his to drive home her point.
“Sophie, please.” His voice actually sounded pained.
“Please what?” she asked, knowing she wasn’t going to like his answer.
“We need to stop.” He took a step away from her and she felt a chill that had nothing to do with the temperature of the room. “Get some rest. I’ll see you in the morning.”
She could push him, demand he acknowledge he felt what she did. But what if she was wrong and he was just humoring her? What if she wasn’t exciting enough for him? Sophie’s potential sex partners had been limited but she doubted a man like Emerson suffered from the same kind of challenge. He could get any woman he wanted into his bed, which meant one thing. Maybe he didn’t want her the way she wanted him.
Except she’d felt the way his body responded to her and even more, she’d seen how off-kilter he’d been after their kiss. Something else was stopping him from giving them what she was pretty sure they both wanted.Maybe. Or not. It was a whole lot easier to feel sure of herself when he wasn’t trying to push her away.
