“You’re incredible.”
He doesn’t even move when he says the words, but a shiver of desire ripples through me as if he’s run his hands down my body.
About a million derogatory responses come to mind, my natural inclination to put myself down rearing up. But Travisjustsaid he finds confidence attractive. And whether he was lying or not, he said he foundmeattractive.
I don’t know why. But it hardly seems like my place to ask him.
Especially when his kisses demonstrate exactly how attractive he finds me. Hell, my panties have been soaked since we left the club, and it’s been almost two years since I’ve been with anyone. And even then, Carter was no prize in the sack.
Something told me Travis would be better.
A lot better.
He sure as hell couldn’t be any worse. Carter and I never had what I would call avibrantsex life. Hell, we didn’t even have adecentsex life. And it certainly wasn’t for my lack of trying.
At least at the beginning of our relationship. In the last few months, I’d more or less given up initiating, because really, who wanted to give up precious reading time for a little pumping and grunting?
I mean, I never even got off.
“I need you to know something, Travis,” I blurt before I can even think about it. Maybe I am still a little tipsy.
“What’s that, little filly?” He crosses the room but stops short of grabbing me and pulling me to him.
Instinctively, I take a step toward him. “Do you call me that because you’re a horse guy?”
“A cowboy, you mean?” His upper lip twitches like he’s trying not to laugh.
“Right,” I say with a wave of my hand. “Do you call me that because you’re a cowboy or because I remind you of a horse?”
“You remind me of a horse, of course.”
It was like a virtual ice-cold bucket of water was dumped over my head. I took three staggering steps backward until my legs hit the back of the couch and I fell into the plush cushions. “Oh,” was all I could manage to say.
Of course, he thought I looked like a horse. With my awful hair and my plain face, never mind my short, stubby body… I was a fool to believe a man like this could be attracted to me at all.
“Whoa.” He holds up both hands, clearly noticing the change in atmosphere. “What’s that all about?”
I can’t even look at him. “What?”
He doesn’t answer right away; he moves to the bar, where he pulls the bottle of Bodacious Bubbles from the ice bucket and pops the cork before pouring two glasses. Only then does he join me on the couch, turning so he’s facing me. “She’s really done a number on you, hey?”
“Who?” I take the glass he holds out for me and take a deep drink. If I’m going to make it through yet another humiliation tonight, I’m going to need alcohol.
“Your shitty stepsister,” he says easily. “She’s obviously convinced you that you’re not worthy of… well, anything. I saw the way she treated you, Maisey, and I have to tell you, I can think of a few choice names for a woman like her.”
I can’t help it; I smile.
“I meant every single word I said back there,” he says, looking into my eyes exactly as he did in the bar earlier. “But yes, you do remind me of a little filly because you’re gorgeous, Maisey. You’re not like other women.”
“I’m certainly not.” I toss back the rest of my glass, the bubbles hitting the back of my throat in a burst. “Not even close.”
“No.” He takes the glass from me and sets it down along with his untouched glass. “You are sexy and sassy, and you have a spark in your eyes that goes a whole hell of a lot deeper than every single one of those buckle bunnies in that bar tonight.”
“Buckle bunnies?” I laugh. “What on earth…”
“Fake tits, too-tight clothes, bleached hair, too much makeup, and a desperation that oozes off them almost as strong as the cheap perfume they douse themselves in.”
“I take it you’ve met a few?” I don’t really want to know how many women like that he’s been with, but at the same time, morbid curiosity makes me ask.
