“It’s not what I want,” he said as he set it on the end table next to the couch.
Her breathing sped up.
“What do you want?” she asked softly.
He didn’t answer right away. He didn’t have to. The answer was there in his eyes. The way he looked at her. Wordlessly, she handed him her cup.
His brow furrowed in confusion as he took it and set it on the table next to his.
Gathering her courage around her, she put her sore arm on his shoulder and gently pushed herself up. Before he could help or say anything, she turned and swung her leg over him and settled onto his lap facing him.
She didn’t know what to do first. She was in complete overload. She wanted to dive in, press herself against his chest and hold on tight. She wanted him to hold her. She wanted to snuggle down deep, feel his heartbeat against her cheek.
Tentatively, she put her hands on his chest, and then she slid them around his body, under his armpits, burrowing them between him and the couch.
She leaned in, pressing her cheek against his chest and rubbing lightly over his T-shirt.
He tensed against her. His pulse raced, bumping a steady rhythm against her face. She inhaled deeply, wanting to absorb his scent and the feeling of being in his arms.
Had she not been so reserved this past year, this wouldn’t have come as such a surprise to him. She could feel him struggling with her gesture, and it hurt her. Hurt her that she was responsible for the distance between them.
She pulled away and stared at him for a long moment, plucking up her courage before it deserted her completely. It was her move. In this it had to be. They’d made all the moves so far, and she knew they wouldn’t push her. She was going to have to come to them.
“Cam, I want to ask you something . . . and I want you to be honest with me.”
He regarded her evenly. “I’ve always been honest with you, Reggie. About everything.”
She nodded. “What would happen if I asked you to make love to me? Right here. Right now.”
His body drew up as he sucked in his breath. Then he expelled it in a long whisper. A discernible bulge nudged his jeans at his groin, just inches from the juncture of her thighs where she straddled him.
“What are you really asking?” he said in a hoarse voice. “I think what you want to know is what happens afterward. Am I right?”
She closed her eyes for a moment then reopened them and met his steady gaze. “Sawyer says I’m the only one keeping score, and maybe he’s right. But I have to ask. What happens if we make love? Will it put you at odds with Sawyer and Hutch? Are they going to resent you? Be angry with me?”
“Are we talking hypothetically, Reggie?”
She didn’t look away. Didn’t flinch or dodge the issue. “No,” she whispered.
His body rippled with power, a brief surge that sent heat racing to her core. He wanted her. He vibrated with it. His muscles coiled and tensed beneath her body, and his chest rose and fell with stuttered breaths.
“I want to make love with you, Reggie,” he said softly. “More than anything. But maybe we should get a few things out of the way.
“I’m not competing against Sawyer and Hutch. Will they be jealous? I honestly can’t answer that. They want the same things I do. To be with you in every way imaginable.
“Maybe we gave you the wrong impression with the . . . way we made love to you that first time. Together. It wasn’t planned, but at the same time, if you’d made love to only one of us, would you have understood what it is we want? Or would it have pushed you even further away when you felt like you had betrayed the other two? Isn’t that what worries you now?”
Slowly, she nodded.
“If we make love, Reggie, it’s because we want to. We don’t owe Sawyer and Hutch an explanation just as they wouldn’t owe me one if it was one of them sitting here with you right now.”
“But will they be okay with it?” she whispered. “Will they think I’m choosing you over them?”
He reached out and cupped her cheek. “Are you?”
She shook her head.
“Then they won’t think that.”
