My eyes move without thought, devouring the sculpted lines of his statuesque body. How can a man be built to such perfection? Terrible, naughty thoughts enter my mind as he comes closer.
And then I see his hands…
The same thick, strong, callused hands from the party that saved me. God, I just want him to open a jar for me.
Without a word, he takes the seat in front of me and stares at me like I’m a problem—a problem he intends to solve. He radiates a calm authority that makes me want to get down on my knees in front of him.
This close, I can see amber in his dark brown eyes, blazing like embers in the night sky.
He just stares at me for what feels like an eternity. I hide my hands under the table, praying he doesn’t see them shaking. He probably thinks I’m going to just scurry away, like I did the other night.
In fact, that’s just what I’m going to do.
Trembling, I slap my laptop shut and begin to stuff it in my bag. But as I’m getting to my feet, he speaks, and his voice hits me like a tranquilizer, knocking me back into my seat.
“Congratulations.”
Is he talking to me? My breath comes in spurts as I try and fail to look at him. “F-for what?” I stammer.
“You’ve done something no other woman has done.”
His voice goes right through me, burying itself in my chest. My breasts tingle and my nipples go hard at the memory of him saving me, asking me with such ownership,“Are you okay?”
“What…what’s that?” God, I sound like such an idiot. But my brain just is not working. It’s like I’ve been hit by a bolt of lightning.
I might be imagining things, but I could swear the edges of his mouth twist up the tiniest bit, indicating the hint of a smile. “Yes.” He nods. “You made me come back for more.”
“I did?”
He nods again, slower this time. His eyes examine me, making me even more self-conscious. “You don’t need to be scared. I’d be gentle with you.”
My lips move on their own. “You would?”
This time, he actually smiles. “Unless you don’t want me to.”
I’m terrified of this man. But at the same time, I’m more turned on than I’ve ever been. Even as I shift in my seat, I feel the soak between my thighs. My body is so aroused it’s almost painful.
“Sorry…I’m not good at this.”
“Good at what?” he asks. My pulse is pounding between my legs, and his mouth is moving, but I can barely hear him over the roaring in my ears.
“This,” I stammer. It’s time to go.
“I’m not asking you to be.”
He leans forward, placing his hands on the table. Those hands…so big…so strong…
…I bet he could tear my clothes off me without even trying…
“My name is Dawson.”
“I need to go,” I say, trying to escape for the second time.
“I need you not to run—” he starts to say, but my legs are listening to me, so I’m going. Speed-walking out of the coffee shop and down the sidewalk. I’m halfway down the block when the urge to turn back hits me.
I haveneverbeen so turned on. Not in my entire life. And I know already, with certainty, that Charles isn’t going to be enough for me. Not today.
But what am I supposed to do? Go back there and throw myself into Dawson’s musclebound arms? If I didn’t have a panic attack, I’d have to tell him I’m a virgin. Thenhe’dbe the one running for the hills.
