His mouth went dry, the saliva disappearing completely. He felt light-headed and drunk, though not off alcohol. No, his blood had all just gotten redirected to his dick.
He wanted to shove the board game and the chest aside and drop to his knees in front of her. He wanted to bury his face in between those breasts, and then his cock. He wanted to lick, bite, suck those impetuous nipples.
She rose, but kept that blanket wrapped around her waist with one fist. Her first step was a little hesitant, but then she grew in confidence, walking around the table to come stand in front of him. She was short enough that her breasts were on eye level for him.
“Eve,” he said hoarsely, and her name was the splash of cold water he needed. Eve. Not a woman who wanted nothing more from him than a single night of fun.
She was Eve. A Chandler. And he had far too many problems to get tangled up in a Chandler.
He swallowed, then swallowed again. “Ah, Eve—”
He was going to let her down gently. He really was. He had the words on the tip of his tongue. They froze there, though, when she placed her hand on his naked shoulders. An electric shock ran through him. He wanted to drag her hand lower, over his chest. Down to the erection straining against the blanket.
The erection that was wrong, on so many levels. He tore his gaze away from her breasts and grasped her hand when it started moving over his pecs. “Eve. No.”
He watched her shutter, power down. First it was her skin, paling slightly, then her eyes going blank. Oh Jesus. He hadn’t meant to kill that tiny spark of heat in her. He opened his mouth, uncertain how to explain.
I can’t have an affair with you, and an affair is all anyone wants me for.
She grabbed the blanket and hitched it up high. He was treated to a flash of pink panties and a slice of her belly, and then she was covered again, her breasts tucked away. She took huge steps backward, and it was like there was a canyon between them instead of a few feet. Damn it. “Eve.”
She shook her head, hard, her wavy hair tumbling around her face. “No, I—I don’t know what I was just doing. I misunderstood.”
“It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not!” To his horror, her eyes grew shiny. He rose, but then he remembered his own blanket. The knot had loosened and it fell before he could grasp it. Her gaze dropped down to his boxer briefs and the erection tenting the fabric, and then she whirled away.
“Listen, you don’t have to be embarrassed—” he started.
“No,” she said sharply. “I don’t want to talk about this. Can you respect that, please? I—I want to go to bed.”
He grimaced. On the one hand, he’d be happy to never talk about this. On the other hand, her breasts.
They’re never going to be in either of your hands.
“Yeah,” he said.
“Please turn around.”
He did just that, so she could adjust her blanket.
She was silent for a second. “Thank you.”
He glanced down at the board game, allowing himself a grim smile. Her system was solid. While she hadn’t bankrupted him, she’d most definitely won.
Chapter 16
The world was working against Eve. She wanted to put her clothes back on, but they were still soaked. She hadn’t thought this gambit through, logistics wise.
She lay on the old couch on top of a bunch of blankets, to keep contact between herself and the old sofa to a minimum. She’d take these blankets to the house and wash them, return them with thanks.
She closed her eyes. She’d turned her back to Gabe, who was sitting against the wall near the fire. It had grown warm in the little cabin, but their clothes needed to dry and it was better than being cold.
Gabe moved, his blankets rustling. She wished she could block him out completely, but that wasn’t possible.
She’d been able to read the rejection in his eyes, before he could tell her to cover up. He hadn’t wanted her.
Did it kill you?
